The Diary Of Iqbal Syed-A Raazi Fanfiction

Grief

Tuesday,

4th May

11:45 P.M.

The utter chaos that had descended upon the Cantonment has been lifted now that Abba is back from Islamabad. He took charge as soon as he stepped in the Cantonment this morning and so, thanks to him, our troops are all organized and we have established contact with other Cantonments and other parts of the country. We have a few moments to breathe now, before we receive more news.

When Abba had finished taking reports from us and had finally settled into his chair back home he asked after Sehmat and Ammi Ji. I didn't really know what to tell him. They're both saddened and shaken, and very much in pain, and trying to function the best they can after the loss of an integral part of their lives. Just like Abba himself has been doing for the past thirteen years. Just like all of us have. He sat back and rubbed his face, and remained that way for a while, his hand shielding his face from other eyes, and I could tell how much it had really hurt him. The only time I had seen him like this was when Ammi had died. I wanted to help him somehow, and comfort him, but again I just don't know how. He finally let his hand down with a sad smile and it might just have broken my heart a little, seeing him so ... helpless. But he carried on with business as usual, even as Sehmat dropped in to remind us of the time.

Abba thinks that Sehmat should go stay with her mother for a few days, and give them both time to heal. Except I had already suggested so to her while we were there, and she had declined it quite firmly. It hurt her too much to walk the pathways that they had always traversed together without him. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, I didn't have the heart to press any further. I told him as much. He sighed heavily, and then, from across the desk, he took hold of my hand and reminded me again what my conscience has been telling me for a while now. The best way in which I can help her, is to be there for her—to let her know that I am there for her. He retired for the night after that, and I wandered back towards my bedroom. The best way to help anyone is to be there for them. But how do I be there for Abba now, when I've been so detached from him all these years?

Sehmat had already fallen asleep to the sound of Getz and Gilberto by the time I came in, so I couldn't talk to her. She looked troubled even in her sleep.

I remember when she was still alive, Ammi used to have a favourite pair of anklets. They were silver, simple in design but elegant nevertheless. Just before her death, when she was in the hospital, she had entrusted Bhaijaan and I with some of her jewellery. To give to our future brides, she had said, in case she didn't make it. She died the morning after. Her anklets are probably the only possession of hers that I have, and the most important of all that I own. I had hoped to present Sehmat with them under different circumstances, but I do not see a better way of conveying to her that I know what she's going through. That I'll be beside her through it all.

It's been a long day.

Iqbal S.