Reflection of my moon

Last night, your faded memory came to me,
As in the wilderness, spring comes quietly,
As slowly in desert, moves the breeze,
As to a sick man, without cause, comes peace!

The moon of my night, an oasis for my deserted soul and a heavenly shelter from cold buffets of life, was my mother. It was a scenic day glittering with the serene sunshine in the blue sky. That day, she had completely recovered from the demon of hepatitis. The vivacity of life was sparkling in her eyes. The omen of life had totally exalted her to a novel perseverance. She had grabbed the silky life with her caressing hands. The life to her meant her children.
The moon of Ramadan was surely an omen of joy for us. We had scheduled our sister's wedding. In that reference, my father and mother were to leave for another city. I bade them farewell under God's heaven and saw them off. "Life is going to be beautiful," I smiled to myself and went to the bed.
Suddenly at midnight, violent knocking at the door woke me up. Something wrong alarmed me. It was my cousin at the door.
"Where are uncle and aunt?" he asked.
"They have gone out of station," I uttered. I saw a cruel prophecy residing his eyes.
"What has happened?" I inquired.
"There has been a horrible accident on the highway."
"Don’t you dare say that!" I tried to say, but my lips refused to cooperate.
"The woman died on the spot," he continued. I couldn't listen any further.
My heart forgot to beat, my eyes forgot to blink and my ears forgot to hear. It was as if someone had poisoned my brain. The surrounding air started thundering. Unable to feel, numb and dumb, a tear was finally blessed down my eyes. It broke me to prayers.
I knelt down to call Him. I asked Him to turn this news false. I begged, "May she live today! Don't snatch life from her too early, too shortly!" At that time, I realized how cruel life could get.
Then, the real news came, shattering my heart into a million pieces, that a heavy truck had torn her poised body into pieces. The poisonous venom gushed into my whole being, paralyzing my soul and my urge to live, like a tumour budding inside me which would engulf my whole existence.
With a torrent of tears, I could see my mother parting from me. I knew I was going to miss her caressing hands, her warm lap, her sincere rebukes and her each and everything.
It has been two years, they say. It has been countless centuries for every second is merely a wall of distance from her. Until now, I have achieved all that she dreamed for me. Nonetheless, never was any achievement so colourless and meaningless.
I have learnt to live without her, but with her reflection. The way a sea can never get the moon but is happy to be with its reflection. I can feel her around me; sometimes smiling, at times snubbing and at times, praying for me. 
Allah has taken away His property but He has also blessed me with her strength and her memories.  Even if on the worldly basis, she is no more with me, I can see her in all I see. I can feel her everywhere, encouraging me to live and succeed. I can hear her whispers saying unto me,
"My beloved speaks and says to me: 'Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come.'"

- Written by: Samina Siddique (Class of 2021)

- Story by: Farzeen Javaid (Class of 2021)