Eighty Eight

To the author of Finding My Way.. this one’s for you.  Just because you’re amazing like that. ❤

Guys, if you don’t already read her blog, what are you even doing with your life?! Go check it out: https://findingmyway68.wordpress.com/

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As narrated by Dee:

“I hate that it is, but this is the story of our lives. It’s the truth. I swear, Daanyaal. I’ve fed you enough lies.”

“How did you’ll find out?” he asks, ignoring my statement.

“She fell pregnant.”

He frowns.

I sigh.

“2 months after the business meeting, Paapa told us everything. You see, when the London lady fell pregnant, Paapa realized how badly he messed up. So he came clean. He told us everything… well, actually, he told Maama, and Dayyanah overheard. So she told me. When Maama explained to Dayyanah and I what was going on, we already knew.”

“How old were you guys?”

“Eleven. You just turned nine, if I remember correctly.”

“So did you guys understand the situation?”

“Not entirely, no. Dayyanah seemed to understand it better than I, but that was usually the case with everything,” I say.

He nods in acknowledgement.

I’m unsure whether I should go on or if he is going to ask more questions. But the silence stretches on and Daanyaal’s attention is fixed on me again.

“Maama wasn’t the same woman after that. I don’t blame her. How could you ever be the same knowing that the man you love, is in love with someone else?”

“Things were bad, or so we thought. Little did we know what was yet to come.”

I pause, looking out the window as I slowly sip my water. The ice cold liquid soothes the lump forming in my throat, sending a shiver down my spine as it slips down my esophagus. And then everything feels frozen.. numb.

Everything except the pain.

“Then came the day Paapa said he’s going to London… for a month, maybe more. Thinking about it properly now, I’m positive this is where things just spiraled out of control… The ball at the top of the hill was simply tipped, but it was enough for it to get rolling. And, I’m sure it wouldn’t have made a difference, but the hill wasn’t a gentle sloping one.”

“London Lady… we’ll just call her that, okay?”

“Yes, I don’t even want to know her name,” Daanyaal replies bluntly.

Good, at least I’m not the one who hates her mere existence!

“So.. urm, London Lady demanded support as her last month set in. Her husband divorced her and her parents had to no interest considering the child was.. well.. you know..”

He nods so I continue.

“Paapa said he had to go. He said it was only right. Pity he didn’t realize it was only right not to get involved with her in the first place,” I say sarcastically, emotion finally seeping into my voice.

“Maama snapped. She’d taken the news of London Lady’s pregnancy badly. She changed entirely. Maama became attached to her prayer mat. She only spoke to Paapa when the need arose, and apparently it killed him the way Maama ignored him because he still loved her,” I scoff.

Daanyaal’s eyes narrow.

Leave your side comments out, Deeyanah. Just say what you need to. Don’t trigger the hate now, because there’ll be none left when he has to hate… 

Oh but there will be hate. There will always be hate. The hate doesn’t go away that easily, no.

Instead, hate grows everyday. And eventually, it becomes a controlling monster. It prevents you from loving, it prevents you from seeing the good in this world, it prevents you from smiling back at an innocent child, and worst of all, it makes you hungry for revenge.

Hate and revenge, they go hand in hand.

When you have hate in your heart; which was made to love, you will constantly be uneasy. You will wake up each morning, vowing to not go to bed until you get the person who destroyed your life back. And when you go to bed unsuccessful, you will slumber only for the energy it gives, telling yourself that the energy will be used for revenge.

This hate, the thirst for revenge, it will become your reason to live.

And how unfortunate is it that a person chooses to use their heart to hate, when it can be used to love.

How unlucky is the person who allows himself to become so blinded by the ugliness of this world, that he is unable to see the goodness.

How difficult must the life of that person who refuses to step on his pride and just let it go be.

‘Just let go,’ they say.

But how do you ‘just let go’?

How do you forgive a grudge when there is no reason to?

How do you see the beautiful things in this world when you’ve grown up seen the ugly side?

How do you make space to love in your heart, when all it was taught to do was hate?

And maybe this is why I’m still being dragged… because I haven’t yet let go.

Sighing heavily, I look away from Daanyaal and start speaking again.

“It all gets too much at some point… sometimes at several points. Maama yelled at him. She told him to go and not to even bother coming back. She told him he was a filthy liar. She was yelling so loud, that you woke up. It was night time. Dayyanah and I were in bed, but as soon as Dayy heard you wake up, she hurried to fetch you. Do you remember that night, Daanyaal? Do you remember how terrified you were, how terrified Dayyanah and I were?”

His eyes are teary now, and I force myself to control my emotions.

Control them or they control you. 

“Paapa was yelling over her voice, telling her to shut up. He told her that had she been good enough for him, he wouldn’t have sought another woman. But Maama was angry that night… the angriest I ever remember her being. Their voices rose above each other, making you hide in Dayy’s chest.”

My breathing has quickened and my hands are now shaking.

“You liked her more than me,” I say with a small smile. “She used to spoil you rotten, that’s why!”

“Where is she now?” he asks, his expression relaxing slightly.

His question wipes away my smile.

“I don’t know,” I reply, quietly.

“What do you mean you-”

“We’ll get to that part,” I cut him off.

“Just be patient, okay? It’s a long story. And not an easy one to tell.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Ignoring him, I continue.

“That night… that night was the first time Paapa raised his hand to Maama. She refused to keep quiet. So he silenced her.”

I hear Daanyaal’s sharp intake of breath but I don’t dare to look at his expression.

“He hit her?!” gasps Danyaal, his voice filled with horror.

I nod, watching the world outside through the window.

“He didn’t know how to express his emotions… and Maama didn’t know how to control hers, at that time.”

I steal a glance at Daanyaal, and then immediately regret it.

Tears are flowing from his widened eyes. Etched in every part of his skin, is pure horror, disbelief and anguish.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…

I look away quickly, trying to get his expression out of my head. But it has already added itself to the images inside my head… the ones which are unforgettable.

I have to carry on. I have to tell him everything no matter how difficult it is for me or him.

No one said it was going to be easy, and now I know why.

That’s the thing about life though…

It isn’t meant to be easy.

But that’s okay…

Because it is only temporary.

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Hey. Hi. Hello. Salaam. Bonjour. Salut. Ciao. Ahoj. Bog. Marhaba. Ola.

Hope everyone is doing well. 

Thousand apologies for the long wait! 

Like Dee said, “Just be patient, okay? It’s a long story. And not an easy one to tell.”

So listen to Dee and be patient, okay? Okay, good!

Don’t forget to drop me a comment letting me know what you think and that you missed me. Just kidding! 😉 

Much love,

Troubled Illusioner. ❤