Thundering Memories
Written By: Omar Malik


“Omer, Omer, come here, look at this!” I ran to him, ran into his open arms and he lifted me up, put me on his shoulders and pointed out. The mighty thunder of the Niagara Falls was deafening my ears, the mist coming down, tickling my skin. “Isn’t it beautiful Ummo”, he looked up at me, those brown eyes filled with excitement as if he was a little kid showing his dad his straight A report card. There we were, my dad and me, best friends, watching the water plummet down, millions of gallons of water just carelessly falling, falling. I woke up with a jolt, fighting to go back to sleep, to go back to my dreams, past memories slowly fading away until reality slapped me in the face. I opened my eyes. It was sunny out. As I looked out the sky light I could see the clouds, slowly moving, like massive ships in an endless ocean. “Omer, wake up, you’re going to be late”, I heard my ammi, my mom, shouting from downstairs, her voice floating up the stairs and gently pulling me out of bed. I walked over to the bathroom, turned the hot water on and just stood under the shower, letting the humidity seep into my skin, the mist gently kissing my face. “You know the Niagara Falls are one of the wonder of the world. Its one of the biggest waterfalls in the whole world”, my abu told me. “See how Allah, has made the earth with such beauty. Ummo, never forget this day, this day you and me here in front of one of the miracles of life.” I looked down at his hair; it was jet black and soft. The sky was lit a bright orange, the sun setting, hitting the water in such a way that it danced as the falls came crashing down. “I will never forget abu, I will remember this day forever”, I said to him.

“Omer, what are you doing in there, you are taking such a long time, save some water for the rest of the world na baba”, I heard my mom say from outside the door. “Sorry ammi.” I turned off the water. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with my dad, lost in my memories forever. “When is abu coming home”, I asked my ammi. “His plane should arrive at six, you will pick him up, yes?” “Of course ammi.” I hurriedly ate my breakfast and ran out the door. “Don’t forget to call your abu to check when he will be there”, I heard my mom say as I jumped in my car, turned the ignition and drove off to school.

“Today in class we will be talking about Newton’s third law, pay attention because this is all going to be on your test and tomorrow…” The teacher was going on about something. I drowned his voice out and looked out the window. I hadn’t seen my abu for six months and he was finally coming home today. He had been in Tokyo on business. “You know Omer, one day you will realize how lucky you are to be living in America. See this land is the land of opportunity, your mother and I came here twenty years ago to give you a chance at a better life” I remember the day he said that to me, I remember it like the lyrics to a good song, his voice, so calm, so much wisdom in those eyes. I remember the way he looked straight into my eyes when he talked, like he knew what I was thinking even before I did. I was six when my mom went to Texas for a week. “What’s wrong janni”, he had asked me. “I miss ammi, I had said, my voice soft, like I was telling him a secret I didn’t want the world to know. “Your ammi will be back, don’t worry, she’s just gone to visit her sister” He took me in his arms, hugged me and held me close. I remember how all the sadness had disappeared. It was as if his heart took my sorrow for its own. My dad was my best friend, he was my roll model and he was finally coming back today.

Books slammed shut, backpacks furiously being zipped, the teacher shouting about something being due next week over all the noise of students trying to beat each other out the door. I snapped back and looked around, class was over and fall break had begun. I calmly put my things in my bag and walked out the door. Stepping out into the sun my whole body shuddered as the cold left, replaced by the warmth of a warm fall day. The fall breeze played around in my hair, bringing with it the smell of earth. I just stood for a minute, closed my eyes and filled my lungs with the smell of fall. I made my way over to my car, looking at the colors, the beauty of fall. If Michael Angelo, and Da Vinci were known as master artist then surely God was art. How the trees looked with their leaves turning vibrant colors, how the big white clouds contrasted with the light blue of the sky, God knew art, he was art, all the rest of these artists were just mimicking His work, folding, molding, bending, morphing His original work to create individual copies they called their own. I loved how sometimes the world just seemed like a huge canvas of life, like I was walking through an ever changing painting, each drop of leaf a new brush stroke. I took it all in, took the beauty of the world and let it paint its self on my eyes. I looked at my watch, it was almost six and the sun was slowly dipping, the rays turning the sky into a brilliant plethora of colors. I put the car into gear and drove off.

I arrived at the airport just in time. The passengers were coming out, some happy, some tiered, some just glad to be back, and then amongst the crowd I saw him, I saw my abu. Wearing a black coat, blue shirt, small suite case in one hand, and a bag slug across his shoulder, he was finally here. I walked up; touched his shoulder and he turned around, smiled and embraced me. He smelled like the inside of a plane, it reminded me off all the travels we’d been on. I took his luggage and led him to the car, opened the door and took him home. Every one was excited he was finally back, the house its self seemed more at ease, as if the walls were humming with happiness. I went up stairs to my bed, lay down and just thought how glad I was for him to be back home. “I brought you something”, I heard his calm voice come from the doorway. He walked over and sat down, the bed seemed to bow down to his weight. “Here, open it”. I took the package and gently took the wrapping off. I wanted to wait, I didn’t want to rush the surprise, wanted to savor every moment. I opened the box and inside I found a camera. “It’s the latest model they had out. It’s for you to capture the memories, the feelings, and the world around you. “You know I’m not going to be around forever, so this is for you, so that you may immortalize all the happy memories you want and keep them with you.”

…………

That was ten years ago. How I would give any thing to go back to that day. I was thirty five now, living in New York, the city that never sleeps, the exact reason I moved here. To keep my mind busy, to keep my self busy. My dad was a memory now. He lived in my dreams, my heart. I saw him in the face of other people, heard his voice when I was alone, but he’s gone. Left this world, left me. I missed him, missed him like one misses good times after a fun weekend. I was living in one of the largest cities in the world, surrounded by millions of people, but I felt alone. I looked around and saw people just aimlessly walking, talking, laughing, but no one cared for each other, no one cared. Walking to my small two bedroom apartment I sank into my couch and turned on the TV. The screen flickered to life like I had just revived it from a comma. “I hate you! You never do any thing for me. Thanks for ruining my life dad”, some blond haired teenager was yelling. It made me sick, how could some one say that to their parents. “I moved here for you Ummo, moved here so you could have any thing you wanted.” My abu had come from a small town in Pakistan, half way around the world. His voice just kept ringing in my ear like a peaceful melody. It was all I could hear, my eyes slowly closed on their own and I feel asleep. I was twelve. “You’ve disappointed me, I thought I taught you better and you just--”, he took a deep breath, his chest expanding and his head down. The look in his eyes I’ll never forget that look. They looked at me, filled with sorrow. It was as if I could see into his thoughts, how disappointed he was in me. I remember that day. I had skipped school to go see a new movie with a couple of friends. We had snuck in and afterwards I smoked for the first and last time. “Common, its going to be fine, our parents won’t find out”, I heard my friend’s voice. They had all convinced me that it was the cool thing to do, their words like poison, numbing my sense of morals my abu had worked so hard to teach me. “Why did you do it, haven’t I taught you better”, his voice ran through my ears, down to my heart, squeezing it. I felt as if I had just murdered my best friend. I felt the sadness rising from my heart, spreading to the rest of my body like a virus. I looked back at him, tears forming in my eyes. “I’m sorry abu, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry”, my voice cracked, my body shuddered, I closed my eyes trying to stop the rush of tears I knew were about to come. My dad reached over me, put his arm around me and pulled me close. Big warm tears jumped out of my eyes, some how they felt real, my face felt wet. I touched my face and looked around. The TV was on, the light creating shadows on the wall. I wiped my eyes and went to the bathroom. I looked at my self in the mirror, my eyes had deep red veins running through them like small little rivers. How I wished I looked more like him. I turned on the water, splashed cold water on my face and went to bed.

…………

I never truly understood what my parents said about life, about how no one will care for you, no one will listen to you. “These people you call your friends, they won’t be there with you until the end, only your family will. Beta, we love you very much and we just don’t want to see you hurt.” I had been so rebellious when I was young, causing so much hurt to my parents. “You know Omer, one day you will realize what we mean, one day you will understand every thing.” I understood now what they meant, understood it like it was the simplest thing in the world. They had sacrificed so much for me, so much. I looked out the window of my twenty building office. The city below was filled with life. People walking, the taxi cabs like a constant flow, as if some one had dropped a paint can filled with yellow paint and it was effortlessly gliding along the streets of Manhattan. I was happy. Life had given me every thing a man could want. I looked down at the picture that seemed to frame my perfect world. My wife, Sanna, two kids, son and daughter, and me, smile at the camera like I didn’t have a care in the world. We were at Niagara Falls. You could see the crystal clear water behind us as it plummeted down below. The picture seemed like a slice of heaven, like Angels had taken a picture of us in paradise. I remember that day all the time for some reason. Sitting on my dads shoulders, no care in the world, smiling and pointing out into the mist of the falls. My dad had told me to never forget that day; his words rang loud in my ears as if he’d just said it. I missed him so much. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for all that I had done, for breaking so much of his trust. My throat tightened and I felt my heart dip, like it wanted to leave me too.

I called my ammi later that night. Told her I missed her and wanted her to come live with me. I wanted to make up for my mistakes. I hadn’t talked to her much, my ammi always reminded me of the goods times I had with my dad, my abu jaan. “Omer when I leave you have to promise me to take care of your ammi, promise me.” I had never fulfilled that promise. I had left her, left her alone when she needed me most.

………

It was five years ago when he was still alive. I was young, stupid and life was throwing me every thing I wanted. It seemed life was bringing me every thing I ever desired in silver platters. I had forgot how much my parents had done for me, exchanged their love for a piece of a perfect life of my own. My Abu had called me, told me to come home, that they wanted to see me. I was too busy, too busy eating the sweet fruits of a false life. “Omer, are you there?” “Yes abu, but I can’t come this weekend. I have project I’m working on” “Achaa Ummo, but try to come if you can okay?” It was the last time he lovingly called me Ummo, the last time I heard his voice.

Death is strange thing. We all have to face it but some how we forget. We waste our lives as death draws closer thinking we’ll live forever and then when it shows up, blocking the light from the frame of our bedroom doorway we realize how much more we could have done with our precious life. No matter how hard we hold on death always wins, always takes the ones we love away from us, snatches them out of our lives and leaves only their memories where their warm body used to lay.

It was the next day that I found out my Abu had passed away. “Omer, Omer”, my moms voice barley coming through the phone as if something was holding it back, “Your abu, he, I want you to come home.” “Ammi I cant, not right now” “Omer, I need you here” It was the way she said it that made my heart sink, my heart became heavy like a cold rock was weighing it down, becoming heavier and colder. “Your abu, he, he…” It hit me like a snowstorm, the cold spread through my hot blood, the phone shook, my eyes starting to sting as tears formed. “I’m coming ammi.” I took the next flight to Chicago and was there before sun set. Walking into the house all the happiness I had ever had was sucked out of me, the walls greedily fighting over them. The wood floors creaked, groaning under the years of being walked on. There she was, my ammi, sitting by the window. The evening sun light made her hair look lighter then it was, I walked over sat down and the next thing I knew we were both crying.

Night came down, stealing the last rays of sun away from the earth. I walked upstairs, went to my dad’s room and slowly turned on the lights. The yellowish light took its time lighting up the room, made the memories that had been dormant for all these years come alive. “A is for apple. B is for banana, what is C for Ummo?” “C is for cat er pil lar”, I had said, forming the words in my mouth like it was the hardest word I had ever read. I slowly walked over to the bed. I imagined him, lying down on his back, propped against the head board, glasses resting lightly on his nose, white salwaar kaameez on, reading the latest issue of Time magazine. I closed my eyes, shutting the light out, trying to slow down all the memories jumbled in my head. I law down and looked up at the ceiling. “Never forget this day Ummo, never forget.” I won’t abu, I thought, I won’t.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and life moved on like it never stops. I begged my ammi to come live with me, to come back with me but she said this was her home, this was where she felt most happy, so I left her. Left her and flew back to my life in NY. Years came and dropped gifts into my life. I got married, had two kids, and landed a job at the New York Times. Life, it seemed, was trying to bribe me, trying to make me forget all that had happened, but love is funny like that because no matter how hard you try you can never erase it, because love doesn’t lie in your brain, but lives in your heart.

…………

I propped the phone against my shoulders and my ear. The phone rang. “Hello, Assalamualakum Omer beta, how are you, I haven’t heard from you in such a long time”, my moms voice was tired but excited. “Ammi I miss you. I want you to come to New York and stay here with us”. “Omer I am old now, New York is fine for you, you have your life there but this is where my heart is, where your dad and me raised you, where all my memories live.” “Then I’m coming to live with you”, I said, my voice had changed over the years, sorrow had seeped into it, the young youthful voice I had so many years ago had been replaced by a slow, sad, but confident voice. “I would love nothing more baba”, my mom said. My job let me transfer to their Chicago office, Sunna was happy for me, encouraged me that I was making the right choice and since the kids were still young they had no care in those little eyes, only excitement. A week went by and the apartment walls lay bare, naked only covered with the memories we were leaving behind. I stood in the doorway, took one last look and closed the door.

I was seeing my ammi after two years. The drive to the suburbs of Chicago took a while, the frequent stops for food and bathroom breaks adding time to our already long trip. We arrived late night, the moon was up, her pure white light covering the earth in a blanket as every one slept. I got out of the car, my breath fogging up in the cold air outside. I walked up the stairs, kids in both hands, Sanna rolling the small suitcase behind me. I rang the door bell and I heard the floor boards creak as my mom came to open the door. The door opened, standing there was my ammi, her hair speckled with gray hair, that same youthful smile and those bright green eyes that had been etched in my memory, looking at me. We all walked in and I felt the house smile like it did all those years ago, felt the walls fading paint somehow regain its color. It felt weird being back home, but as the days went on we settled in. “Shunna, shunna, where are you going”, my mom played with the kids. The kids had brought that lost happiness back into her smile. I still missed my abu, I saw him when I walked into his room, memories of him flashed before me when I was tired and remembered seeing him working late at night on projects from work. I was glade I was back with ammi, glade I had finally fulfilled my abu’s promise.

I walked to my room, my old room, my hands gliding over the walls, feeling for the light switch. I turned the lights on. The light filled the room like a container being filled with water, slowly lighting up every little detail, eating away the darkness that lurked just seconds ago. I walked over to my bed and sat down, my eyes floated over and I saw a familiar looking box. I opened it and found inside the camera my abu had given me. “So you can capture the memories of the world”, he had said to me. I took it in my hands, ran my fingers, slowly feeling every detail of the camera. I lay back, propped my head against the headboard and looked out the skylight. The stars twinkled, all trying to outshine each other, to some how lessen the darkness of the night. I closed my eyes and thought about that day. “You know the Niagara Falls are one of the wonder of the world. Its one of the biggest waterfalls in the whole world, see how Allah has made the earth with such beauty.” I opened my eyes. Ummo, never forget this day, this day you and I here in front of one of the miracles of life. I won’t abu, I thought to my self as my fingers ran over the cool lens of the camera, my eyes closed. I was with my dad again, on his shoulders, his jet black hair, the warm air bringing with it the mist from the falls. He looked up at me, those big brown eyes looking at me with such love. I won’t abu, I whispered. I won’t.






The End.