Pervade and Faint

Chapter 44

Sophia came back home the day I was supposed to leave. I had to leave before midnight, which inevitably meant that I had only a day to spend with Sophia, auntie Shama and dad. Dad and auntie Shama both, took their day off. Dad had to appeal in the court for uncle Qurashi's case at first light.
We were supposed to go for supper at auntie Shama's house after he would be back.

Meanwhile, I sat in my room, trying to get my bags prepared. A really depressing feeling sank my heart into a deep sea of desperation. I knew that I would be leaving everyone behind, just like I had, last time. As minutes passed by, my heart went more and more into agony. The greatest loneliness is the loneliness which is felt before the real loneliness, when you are yet with the people who you know that you will be leaving soon. I imagined how I would ever live sans my dad, auntie Shama, and most significantly, Sophia.
As I stood naked in front of my closet, I noticed that I lost my prawn structure. My body went frail in just twelve days, twelve tough days. It had been a hard time for me, as it had been, equivalently, for all of us. Sophia suffered a ton. She was only eighteen, and life had buffeted her malevolently. It would be a blithering encumbrance for Sophia to keep pace with her studies, for she had a child, now.
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When dad arrived, we paid our visit to auntie Shama's house. Auntie Shama had prepared quite an elaborate dinner, chicken ramen and shrimp. The food was delectable, as usual. But for me, it was devoid of flavor, probably because I was depressed about leaving, or probably because Sophia wasn't at the dining table. She stayed in her room. But it was still good and relieving to know that she was in the house, with us; safe. Sophia had been treated with heavy painkillers like morphine, diclofenac, and tramadol. She couldn't move comfortably because it was a vaginal birth, which is certainly an extremely painful process. Her pelvic floor muscles went really sore and injured, attenuating her strength and stretch abilities. There were a few intricate exercises for that, but Sophia wasn't prepared for them, claiming that she was in too much pain. It was definitely a painful time for her, but she had a vigilant mother for her care. Sophia was only allowed to have only specific meals. No spices, parsley, dairy products, juices, and not even chocolate.

I had to leave right after supper because my bags hadn't been packed. And I knew that I had to pack them myself. I stood in front of my closet, eyes shut. A tear escaped from beneath my eyelid, wetting my cheek. Never in my life had I felt more depressed. I really missed mom. Life would have been completely different if I would have her on my side. Nothing in the world can take place of a mother. I fell in love with Sophia. My heart sank in the deep oceans of her love. But the love between my mom and I was incompatible, immeasurable. If Sophia made me smile, than mom was the one controlling every muscle of my face. If Sophia was my favorite color, than mom was my rainbow. If Sophia was a pleasant day, than mom was the entire spring. But the features of destiny are utterly serpentine. They take a man and move him to and fro between happiness and pain. And the painful side of life always lingers more.
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When I was done packing my bag, I sat on my bed, thinking of Harvard and the life I had ahead of me. There was a knock at the door. I knew from the serenity of the knock that it was dad. And it actually was. He entered the room and sat on my bed, providing me company. Dad looked at my bag, a bit amazed that I had packed it myself.
"Ready", asked dad.
"What do mean ready?" I asked, taking a surreptitious glance at my watch. But there was nothing I could do about it. There were only two hours left for my flight.
"Ready?" he asked again, smiling mischievously. I knew what he was referring to. And once again, dad and I reiterated the conversation which we had a few nights beforehand.

Dad slipped his hand into his pocket and took something out. Before I could get a proper glance, he placed the thing in my palm. There was a little distribution of sweat from one palm to the other.
"I love you dad", I said. I wondered whether I had ever said that to him before.
"Wrong person", he said and elbowed me. It took me a while to understand what he had meant. But when I comprehended it, both of us laughed.
"Go", he said, giving me a light push.

With a hand in my pocket, I went over to auntie Shama's house. A deep connection had formed between auntie Shama and I. Her hospitality was phenomenal. She tried her best not to let me feel that I had lost my mother. Recalling, a mother is a mother. And nothing in the world can take place of a mother.

Inevitably, auntie Shama opened the door for me and smiled. I walked in the house, memories cascading in my head.

"I really wanted to thank you for your hospitality _ ", I said and she put her hand on my arm.
"I should be the one thanking you", she said and smiled.
"You reunited me with my daughter", she said, withdrawing her hand. We stood there for a minute, stuck in memories. I knew by the expressions on her face that she was thinking about the unpleasant times which she had to confront, but the thunderstorm were gone. And the rainbows were about to manifest. But in real life, rainbows just partially appear after thunderstorm. The thunderstorms of life linger for long, in the form of grief and hardships and struggles. As a matter of fact, they even entwine with the rainbows. In real life, mere happiness is impossible. And I believe that life is actually incomplete without grief. Mere happiness is a great grief itself. Every rain brings joy, and the results of over joy are floods.

"Sophia is in her room", said auntie Shama. She knew that I had come to see her.

As I ascended the stairs, I realized that the last time I went to Sophia's room was actually when I was going for Harvard. Things had and hadn't changed.

Her door was left ajar, revealing a little bit of her room. I peeked in to see whether she was awake or not. Sophia was awake. Her child was attached to her breast. The infants tiny lips had been attached to Sophia's breast, suckling. Sophia placed a hand behind the baby's neck. It was my first time seeing Sophia's body. God, she was ravishingly beautiful, flawless. I swear to god that I didn't look at her with wrong intentions. She had always been conscious about herself. And I greatly respected her for that. When Sophia detached the child from her breast, I whispered for her name.
"Sophia", I whispered. On hearing my words, she quickly put her shirt down, making sure to cover her body.

"Come in", she said after a few seconds. As I stepped in the room, old memories flashed in my head. I looked over at Sophia. God, she was still as beautiful as she had been the very first time I saw her. When our eyes met, she quickly shifted her gaze to the floor and flushed, as usual. Her checks went red all of a sudden. I smiled. And so did she. My shrinking violet, I thought.
"Sophia", I said, completely taken aback by her beauty. Through her smile, she looked at me. I wondered whether she needed me with the same intensity with which I needed her. I looked at her hands. There were a few cuts on the inside. I had noticed them in the hospital. She suffered through a lot.
"Sophia", I reiterated, but the charm of her name was still reinvigorating. I put my hand in my pocket, nervously, took it out and gained a step towards Sophia.
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Moments, and my moment

There are religions which emphasize on their own viewpoints. Many religions claim as well as guarantee that the reward of resist and patience is heaven. But it is axiomatic that there must be some reward in this world. And there is. The reward of patience and resist actually does exist in this world. A man and woman love each other more than anything in the world. And when they get segregated (by the factor of faint), the pull of their love brings them back. And that's the factor of pervade. Nothing can prove more beneficial in love than more love. And it is only then possible that broken hearts will patch.

Standing in front of the love of my life, I wondered whether the moment would ever repeat in my life. And I knew that it wouldn't, which meant that it was my moment. It was my moment to spend my moment because the moment was never to come again in my life.

Considering it my one and only moment, I went down for the kneel . . .