The sun was peaking in and out behind big cotton shaped clouds that seemed to have been painted on a vast blue canvas. The day was young. The air warm, carrying with it the laughter of good memories and the smell of summer time fun. I leaned on the warm hood of my car the summer breeze gently blowing through the trees, I let it flow over my face, into my hair, it was as if the wind had thousands of little hands, each one of them reaching into my mind and taking my worries. I put my head back and closed my eyes, the sun was strong and I could see the bright red through my eyelids. Summer was different this year. I was different. Winter had finally left taking with it the sorrow it had brought hidden in its perfect snowflakes. I was happy school was out, happy the earth was warm again.

It wasn't until later that night that I realized what had changed, what was missing. It was something inside me. Something I felt I had lost with the constant weathering of school, with the constant beating of life. It was laughter, how much time had passed since I had smiled, almost as if my face didn't even know how to anymore. The laughter in my heart, in my soul had disappeared like some one had taken it and put it in a jar next to my dreams, my happiness. It had been a long day, a tiring day. One of those days where you didn't remember what you did but you know you had done a lot. Sitting on the couch I looked around. The house was dark, I liked it that way, it fit how I felt, alone. I finally got up, the couch held on to me for a second afraid I wouldn't come back. As I got into bed the springs creaking with every move I made, filling the room with an odd sound. It was strange, hearing something after such a long period of quite. It was as if the empty space didn't know what to do with the sound, as if it had been deaf for ages and now it could finally hear again. I put my head on the pillow the cotton took shape to contour my head, the cold pillow stealing my warmth keeping it as its own. I let the moons light creep through the blinds and gently close my eyes. Let the slow tinkering of the rain against the window drown out the moans and creaks of the house. It had been a long day.

Dreams are like stories written by God and delivered by angles that take you to wondrous places, sometimes they're better then reality, sometimes they make reality look like a dream. It was only when I dreamed was I happy. I see my mother. She’s standing, her eyes shining joy into the room, her smile warmer then the fireplace crackling in the background. There’s music, the room is filled with people. Little kids lost in their own world, parents talking about their world. There’s so much happiness in that little room, so much joy, so much love that Satan himself would smile. I walk up to my ammi, my mother, I want to hug her. Take her in my arms and ask her why she had left me behind in this cruel world. I slowly raise my arm, slowly inch towards her. I’m almost there, I would finally hug her, I would finally feel what my heart ached for, what I ached for, my mothers touch, her love, but dreams are funny in that way, they always know when to bring you back to earth.

It was four years ago. Four long years ago when life had plunged its ice cold hands into my heart taking my love. Rain was falling from the sky as if thousands of angles where crying, mourning what was about to come. The dark clouds thundered, shaking the earth, as if reminding it of the sorrow that would occur on its soil. Music was playing softly as I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. I looked over and saw my ammi. Saw how she was looking out, the water taking the light from the city, distorting it, and creating different images on the canvas of the window. We were alone, coming back from the city. The rest of the family had stayed home. It was just me and my ammi jaan. She turned to me. "You know I’m proud of you, you've accomplished so much. I still remember when you were a little baby, always causing mischief. I knew the day you were born that you would make me proud. You're my strength you know, never forget how much I love you" I still remember what she said to me like they had been etched with love in my mind. It was one of the last things she ever said to me.

The screams of kids playing filled the warm summer air. The sun was soft today. Summer was slowly ending. Fall was coming with every leaf drop. Sitting on a park bench, the swings metal catching the light from the sun and throwing it my way, glinting. It reminded me of the time in the car when I had used my watch to reflect light in my brothers closed eyes. "Don't bother him, you know he gets cranky when you bother him in his sleep", my ammi had said to me with that love infused voice. "Sorry ammi jaan", I had said to her, sneakily shining light every now and then. How I missed those days. How I missed being a kid, missed being looked after. Now it was just me and the world, the world a mean teacher who kept using me as an example of what would happen to the others if they didn't listen.

The noise filled the room, overwhelming, pushing against the walls of the house, slowly seeping out of the cracks between windows. I sat among people I didn't know, some who I knew but didn't want to talk with. I had lost the need the talk. I didn't even know if my tongue remembered how. Fall had swooped in like an eagle, clutching summer in its talons. The air outside had been robbed of its warmth, but inside the body heat of laughing people kept the cold out. As I looked around the house my eyes were drawn to this patch through a group of standing people. There she stood, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, my eyes unfocused, taking in one thing at a time. Her black hair flowing down below her shoulders, like the waves of a serene lake. Her eyes were like two crescents that made the bright fall moon look pale. She was laughing, how one person could have so much joy so much warmth. My eyes finally focused on her whole face her image developed in my minds eye like I had taken a mental picture. She finally looked up, our eyes met and for the first time in a long time I smiled.

The drive back home was a blur of lights and noises. My mind kept wandering back to her, to my dark haired pari. Over the weeks she entered my dream with grace. Bringing unbound warmth to my heart, for the first time in four years I heard my heart beat. With fall in full color the atmosphere of the world, it seemed, had changed. The bright greens were replaced by vibrant reds and yellows. The warm winds replaced by a mild fall breeze that sometimes carried with it the cold reminder of winter. On my drive back to my apartment, the one place I called home, my phone rang. It was my abu, my dad, he was finally back from his over seas business trip. I admired my dad. He was the one person I looked up to, his success was the force that pushed me to excel in every thing I did. “Hello”, I answered. “Assalamualakum beta, where are you? How are you? Is every thing fine? How goes college?” the usual chit-chat, the usual question and answer. It was after I hung up that I realized I missed him, I missed his confident yet soft voice. It seemed like a river that I had been holding back finally pushed hard enough and streamed out. I cried the whole drive home. I tried to stop but stray memories of my ammi kept producing fresh tears, my whole body shuddered as I tried to block out the memories I had tired to keep in the depths of my mind. Reaching home I flung my self onto my bed, brought the covers over my head and cried until there were no more tears, just my wet eyes and the pain in my heart as if some one had taken a searing hot iron rod and pressed it into my heart. I fell asleep with the fresh pain of loss still griping my every thought.

I woke up the next day to find the sun was out. It seemed the world was showing me how happy it was, trying to make me jealous. As I lay in bed I stared up through the sky light and saw the clouds slowly going across the sky like giant boats in the clear blue ocean. The warmth trying to seep into my skin, but my body wouldn’t let it. It wasn’t ready to be warm. I closed my eyes and went back. “This is the happiest day of my life, do you know how proud you’ve made me. Graduating high school is a great accomplishment my raja. Today Omer baba you have made me the happiest mother in the world.” I remember that day like it just happened, like I was just there and was yanked out into another world, this world, my world of pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks, tears of joy. Her eyes looked at me with so much love. My ammi was proud of me. I was proud of my self. I had made my ammi happy and that was my happiness.

Reminiscing about the past always brought a fresh wave of pain but I tried to ignore it. I turned the shower on, turned the hot water all the way up, but the water turned into ice the moment it touched my skin. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something, anything else. It was then that I saw her. Smiling at me like she had smiled at the party, her eyes happy to see me even though we had never met, slowly the water got warmer.

Two more years went by, vanished as if they were mere moments. I was finally out of college. My dad came for my graduation, him along with my younger brother. I was happy to see them. “There he is, there is my graduate”, my dad boomed out. I could see he was proud, I could see the happiness twinkling in his eye. Ahmad, my younger brother, gave me a tight hug. I smiled and kissed my dad on the cheek. They stayed at my small apartment, my home, for two weeks. It felt like we were a family again. Felt as if the cold boulder that had been on my chest had finally been lifted. I missed my ammi, but on that day it was as if she was there. I saw her. The same smile she had when I graduated high school, the same pride in her eyes. Two weeks flew by and before I knew it my abu jaan and Ahmad were boarding the plane. “You should come with us. Now that you’re done with college you should come back and live with us. We can be a family again.” “Thank you Abu but I don’t think I’m ready to go back yet, I promise I will come one day, I promise.” Just like that they were gone, the big steal bird took them away like they never came, but left behind something that I hadn’t felt in in a long time, warmth.

I started an internship at a huge multi national company. I was finally what I had always wanted to be a journalist. Days sped up to where day and night ran into each other, becoming one huge blur. I lost my self in my work. Made new friends, moved into the city, by graduating the world, it seemed, lost interest in using me as a genie pig. I was finally free. It was at a thanksgiving party the following year that I met the girl who had taken my heart for her own. I was standing alone when she walked up to me. She smelled sweet, not the sweet you find in a candy shop but a sweetness of good shampoo. Her hair just as long as I remembered it, her eyes just as dark, filled with mysteries, not those that brought pain but those of good times. “So how do you like the party?” she asked me, her voice was soft like a whisper but loud enough that I could hear her over the shouts and bellowing laughter of the guests. “Its going well, thanks.” “You look really pretty today”, the words escaped my thoughts through my tongue, my cheeks blushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so abrupt”, I apologized. She just smiled. “Do you want to go for a walk?” she asked me in her sugar coated voice.

We dodged cheering guest, packs of little kids, tripping over lines of scattered shoes we finally made it outside. The cold air sucking the heat from my face, it felt nice. The scene was like that you see in some romantic movie, boy and girl walking, city lights, the warm air condensing and turning into puffs of smoke as they spoke. It was that night I fell in love. I called my abu the next day, told him the news. Told him how I had met someone who filled the emptiness, the cave of sorrow that my ammi’s departure left behind. I could tell he was happy. His voice resonated out of the phone and he flew in the next week. “Ahmad was in college so he couldn’t make it but he sends his love.” A couple weeks went by and I asked Sahra, my jaan, if she wanted to marry me. Her eyes lit up like a moonless sky on the Fourth-of-July. She jumped up and hugged me for the first time. Her warm body filled my cold body with warmth. I smiled and hugged her back.

Months slowly went by like lazy summer flies and every thing was finally ready for the wedding. Relatives from all over had flown in to celebrate. It was the day of the wedding. I closed my eyes. “Omer baba, I’m so happy you’ve found some one for you. She is pretty, just like your ammi”, my mom said, smiling. “No ammi, you are far prettier. I really wish you were here today, I will miss you so much” I felt something warm going down my cheek. “Don’t worry beta, I will always be with you. I love you. “I love you too ammi” One tear led to another and before I knew streams of tears were flowing out of my tired eyes. I just sat in my room, a mix of happiness and sorrow. Making my way into the shower my tears mixed with the hot water. I closed my eyes and let the water make its way from my head all the way down to my toes taking my sadness down the drain. “You know I’m proud of you, you've accomplished so much. I still remember when you were a little baby, always causing mischief. I knew the day you were born that you would make me proud. You're my strength you know, never forget how much I love you" I see her just sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window. How much I wished I could go back in time, but time like, the mighty rivers, flows only one way, eroding the world around you.

It took me a while to get ready. The sadness lingered in my heart the whole way to the hotel. My abu and baby brother knew what I was thinking and didn’t try to help me, they knew they couldn’t. It was tradition for the groom and the bride to sit together on a stage in front of every one so I made my way over to the couch and sat down and waited, waited for my pari to come down. When she finally did my eyes slowly came up to see her, she looked more beautiful then any thing God has made in this world. With her head down she walked closer to me, looked up and smiled. I felt all the sorrow melt away, her smile like the spring sun melting away the remnants of the winter snow. How lucky I was to have found her. The rest of that day came and went. Two days later and the ceremonies had ceased, Sahra and me were finally married.

Days turned into months, months into years. Seasons changed out side while we changed inside. Four years after our wedding I was a father. It was my daughters second birthday. She looked just like her mother, the same twinkle in her eyes the same un-flickering happiness behind her smile. We named her Fatima, and just like that my life had a new reason. She became the love of our lives. Her laughter, her mischievousness, her memories filled our empty house. Life was good. I saw my ammi jaan every day. Saw her looking at Fatima with that loving smile, saw her sitting in the sun the way she used to when we were young. The pain of my ammi had finally been replaced with happiness. They say love conquers all, it took a while to conquer my rigid mountain of sorrow but it finally did. After another year I took Sahra, Fatima and our new baby boy Amer back to my home town. I fulfilled my promise to my abu and came home.

It was just like I had left it. A small suburban town where life was easy, my dad was happier then I had ever seen him the day we showed up at his doorstep. Holding Amer in my arms, bag slug over my shoulder, Fatima to my left holding her mothers hand, it was picture perfect. We were finally a family. Ahmad came home later that evening and we shared old stories, brought up old memories, and filled the house with new ones. We talked late into the night, talked about every thing from new jobs to politics to the kids. My abu told me how happy he was I had returned, how happy he was to have his family back together, and in that moment I saw how much pain he had hidden behind his dark eyes, he blinked and it was gone, replaced only by my reflection.

After hours of talking I finally lay down to rest, Sahra my jaan, at my side. I let my mind wander, let the darkness close around me. It was silent but a silence filled with whispers of happy times. The walls talked amongst themselves, the house creaked and settled in for the long night. My eyes closed and I found my self in the car, my ammi at my side. She turned to me “I knew the day you were born that you would make me proud. You're my strength you know, never forget how much I love you, never forget that you’re my jaan, my life. If any thing happens to me know that I will never leave you. I will always live through you, through your eyes I will see all that you will accomplish. Never forget me Omer baba because no matter what happens I want you to know I love you.” I slowly opened my eyes, looked around in the dark and whispered. I love you too ammi, I love you too.

-Omar Malik

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.