Take Me There

Yusra Shaukat

“What is the difference between strength and courage?” I asked.

“When you are around and it makes me smile, that is strength. But when you are far away and even my imagination cannot reach you, I still smile—that I call courage,” my father replied with tears in his eyes. That day I decided not to leave him alone, no matter what, but I never knew what life was going to play with me. 

Life has always been an adventure and full of surprises, since childhood. I was the only child of my parents and deep down in my heart I was so glad about it. I was the centre of their attention. Though my parents were poor, they never let me realize it. We were the inhabitants of a small village, with only two plots of land, one motorbike, one cow, and a few hens. My father was a clerk in a private school, which was exactly 10 km far from my village. For me my mother was the most beautiful person on the earth. She had long black shiny hair, a big smile on her face, and big, black eyes. She looked even more attractive when she used kajal and mascara. Our home consisted of two bedrooms, one kitchen and two washrooms. My mother always tried her best to keep those clean and tidy. Sometimes I wondered how she was able to manage so many things together, though she was quite young. She was the one in our family to wake up early, clean the whole house, extract milk from the only cow of ours, and collect the eggs from the tiny home outside our house, which was specially made for the hens by my father. My father used to help her in making the breakfast daily and seeing them working together in the kitchen–both looking at each other, enjoying gossip, with big smiles on their faces–was the most beautiful scene for me. They both taught me the real essence of love. They were the people who taught me to find happiness in small things. 

Then comes the part, when I used to sit like a princess in front of my father’s bike. He used to drop me off at my school, which was quite far from our village. I was the only female child whose parents did not send her to the government school in the village, but to private school. That taught me how important I was to my parents and also I was well-aware of their expectations of me. They wanted me to achieve a position , which could help the children of our village to be able to cope with the new challenges. I always tried my level best to give utmost priority to my studies. My mother never asked me to help her in household chores, neither had I bothered myself. 

I always admired those people who were really good at speaking. Unfortunately there was no internet, TV or any other source from which I could seek help to improve my public speaking. The only option to practise was to take classes with the children of my own village. Every day, after school I used to teach English to the children of our village. At that time I was in grade 6 and I was the only child in the whole village familiar with English. 

I used to have many friends and our favorite spot to meet was the big oak tree, located in the centre of our village. We managed to play different games and the voices used to echo across the whole village. Our favorite game was swinging. One of us would sit in the rope and the rest of us would push her from the back, singing different folk songs. People in our village used to laugh with us, when they passed by. We used to run after each other in the long fields, filled with greenery everywhere, pouring water on each other. Life was so beautiful, without any kind of sorrow. I was thankful to Allah for everything “He” gave me. My days were going very well, and I was pretty good with my studies too. By the time I reached grade 12, I was able to achieve one of my goals, as I had made it possible to make the children learn some basics of English. I used to believe that life would be like this forever, happiness everywhere, but my assumptions were purely based on my simple experience. I never thought life sometimes also can be so harsh and cruel. 

It was Friday, and when I opened my eyes, I saw my mother sitting beside me. Her big beautiful eyes were full of tears, but still she was smiling. That smile which was the strength and courage behind my every success. That day my board results were going to be announced and I was tensed as well, but I knew I was going to perform very well. My father kissed my forehead and went to my school to get my results. As I had performed brilliantly in my board exams, my father decided to send me to my aunt’s home, in a city far from our village.  My aunt was the only sibling of my father. I remember she visited when I was 5 years old and after that I never saw her. I still remember how much she loved to spend most of her time with me. She brought many expensive dresses, toys, books, and other things. Her fashion sense was perfect. She used to wear kameez with pants along with a short dupta around her neck. I heard she married a guy and went with him to the city and never showed herself in the village for a long time after. The last time she visited, she said she had gotten a divorce from her husband, but neither my father nor my mother asked why. She stayed for only 5 days, but before leaving she made my father promise to send me to the city for my studies. My parents didn’t say anything in front of her, but once she left my mother insisted that she would not send me to the city. 

“Don’t you remember what your sister did? She left us alone and preferred that guy over all of us. She never sent a single letter asking whether we were alive or not. But now she is all alone, she wants my daughter to go and be like her. No I will never let her go. Do whatever you want to do.” Thus my mother expressed her decision.  

“But if she will go, she will be able to complete her dreams. That’s what we both want for her. What she will do living in the village? I don’t want my daughter to be like us.” My father sat beside my mother, who was crying. 

“I am well aware of the dreams, but all I want is to have her back here beside me, when I will be old. You tell me, will she be able to adjust herself in that environment? People there drink alcohol, smoke and more. What if she becomes like them? Will your sister be able to give her love or take care of her the way we do? My daughter means the whole world to me. Please I don’t want to lose her.” My mother pleaded. 

Tears came to my eyes, but I managed to control them. I sat beside her, with my arms around her neck and said, “Till now you had always been my strength Maa. Now, as I am going to take the biggest decision of my life, I want you to have faith in me. Trust me, I won’t involve myself in such activities that would be a stigma to our family.” I smiled at her and she smiled back, which meant I had her permission to chase my dreams.

It took us two days by bus to reach the city. My aunt was at the bus station to pick me up. She hugged me so tight that I was unable to breath at first. I never understood her affection for me. My father was supposed to leave the same day, as he already took two days leave. While he was leaving, tears were flowing from his eyes. “Always listen to your heart and follow it beta. And don’t forget out there, there is a place and people who have so many expectations of you. May Allah help you with your journey.” These were his parting words to me. I wanted to cry and ask him to stop, but I couldn’t. My aunt held my hand and asked me to sit in her car. That was the first time I sat in a car. 

Everything was new to me, even my own aunt. She lived in a very large bungalow. I won’t call that a home because there was no one except a few servants. They were not allowed to speak to me, nor to my aunt, and that seemed weird. There were several rooms on both sides of the corridor. My aunt showed me all the rooms, but there was no one living there. My room was at the last right corner of the corridor. I opened the room and for a while I was unable to speak. This was the same room I dreamt of. Blue walls, blue curtains, my pictures were hanging on the walls, teddy bears and minions everywhere. A big mirror at the corner of the room, cupboards and drawers were full of fancy dresses and shoes. For a while, I felt like a princess. My aunt was around 35, but she looked younger. She always had a beautiful smile, with shinning teeth. Whenever I looked into her eyes I felt that they wanted to say so much, but didn’t have the courage to utter those words. 

I took admission at one of the finest universities in the city. At first, I felt so uncomfortable seeing girls wearing shorts, hanging out with boys, smoking, and whatnot. But time teaches us everything. My aunt was a fashion designer, so I myself used to wear branded clothes, but I never tried wearing shorts, and nor did my aunt ask me to do so. I had good friendships with other students, but not to the extent where I could tell them how lonely I feel when I return from university, how much I need someone to join me for lunch or dinner, how much I miss talking about the fields, the games I used to play, and how much I truly miss my parents’ taking care of me and never leaving me alone. Though my aunt was around, I never tried to form a relationship with her where I could share everything because her lifestyle was so different. Most of the time, she used to travel around the country as well as overseas. I was left alone, recalling the advice of my mother not to forget who I was. I tried my level best in my studies and was amongst the top students of my class. My aunt used to appreciate me all the time and bring me gifts. But what I needed were my parents. I really wanted to let them know how it feels when one is so close to her destiny and her parents aren’t with her. I used to write in my diary on a daily basis, to show them, when I returned, how much I missed them. I tried to ask my aunt to send me to my village on vacations, but everytime I asked, she pretended to be busy. I couldn’t travel by myself, as I was not even aware of the roads properly. I never wanted to go outside and discover new places, though my aunt asked me many time. I even stopped asking her to send me to village. During my vacations, I kept myself busy in the kitchen cooking with the servants, chatting with them, reading books, writing poetry and trying to connect to those people who could help me to build a school in my village. Sometimes my aunt took me shopping as well. 

People say time flies, but in my case it seemed to take centuries to complete my Bachelors. It took me four years and a month to achieve my destiny. By then, I had the qualifications to start a school in my village. I was able to raise funds with the help of media, friends, and obviously my aunt to construct a school which would follow the modern education system. I was happy, as I had kept the promise of my mother and father. 

At last the day came which I was waiting for those long years. I knew that my mother would not talk to me as I didn’t go home on my vacations, but I wanted to tell her how much I missed her every second. My aunt came along with me. I bought lots of gifts for my parents. I was truly happy after a long time. I imagined how the people of my village would react when they saw me. How happy they would be to hear about the school. I wanted to meet my friends in the same spot under the oak tree. I wanted to tease my father by saying that Maa is more attractive than him. 

I didn’t even realize that we were about to reach the village, the place where my heart lies. I felt the air when it touched my face. I smelled the soil and saw that all was as I had left them, but I felt there was something wrong. I didn’t see a single person, not even a kid outside in the field or the streets. 

The whole village was quiet and it haunted me inside. When the car stopped outside my house, I saw people were running here and there. I noticed them for a while and jumped out of the car. My heart started to beat so fast, as if it planned to come out. I ran into the courtyard, where people were gathered in a circle. My mind was blind. I went towards them. What my eyes saw, should not have been. I had saved so much to share with that person, whom I missed the most and now she refused to even talk to me for the rest of my life. She didn’t even wait for me to hug her once. She didn’t wait to see her daughter call her “Maa” just one time before leaving me and my father all alone in the world, with her memories. I sat on my knees and those tears which I controlled for four years came out like a flood. Someone put her head in my lap. I kissed her face many times; requested her to open her eyes just once to see her daughter who has come to see her. I apologized for not coming sooner, but alas it was too late. Too late to call her back. 

My father was broken into pieces, but now it was my responsibility to join those pieces together. I gave him all my time, decided not to pursue graduate school. My father and I looked after the construction of the school and within one year we opened that for the children. 

They say time heals everything, but that is not true. You never forget the memories but you dig them deep down in your heart and never let them come out. After my mother passed away, I never cried in front of my father. I tried to keep him happy, and mostly I succeeded. But one thing will remain in my heart forever and that is how I was unable to tell my mother that I tried to keep her promise and that I missed her so much. I wish someone could take me there, where I would get a chance to let Maa know about my journey, a journey no one else could understand.