

The volcano is silent now till the next eruption. The lava has pacified to some extent. Fumes still linger in the atmosphere but they will disappear too with time. But the damage has been done. The lacuna has widened. Time will drop some sand over but the void would never be filled completely because after every volcanic activity, the gap keeps widening.
Unfortunately, yesterday my husband discovered my recent blog posts (the copy I made in ms word). As expected, he didn't like slashing his mother. I told him that there should be some way to went out my anger and I found this very therapeutic. Besides, he didn't like the last three lines of my previous post. Of course, the idea of moving out scares him. It's not his fault. He is a product of a very typical-conservative-influenced-by-Hindu-culture Pakistani society. Here you are not allowed to think outside the box. You are not allowed to have your own perspective. Speaking one's mind is considered blasphemy. My religion gives me right to demand for a separate home, to make my own decisions (of course, with my husband's consent but not like k mommy mana kareingi or hamarey yehan aisa nahin hota) and to strive to cultivate my faculties and for my financial independence. Had my mother-in-law been normal, I wouldn't have thought about that. But I am grateful that he is supportive. He stands by me whenever my in-laws try to slash me. And that's why I am able to bear all this. He thinks moving out will create more distances. What he doesn't realize that though physically close, we are separated by the distance of miles. Only time will tell him that. I just hope I will be around to see that because yester night I prayed to God to make sure mine and my family's life gets over soon and together; since they won't be able to live without me. As for my husband, he has his family to care of him!
Just when things couldn't get worse, there was a verbal warfare today at house. Fire broke the ice. Fragments of thoughts and suppressed feelings of anger and hatred erupted in the form of verbal assaults. Of course, I was the focal point of the collective rage. Whatever I had uttered in the past, the words and statements were morphed and presented as ugly string of characters. Also, the things I had never said or did were attributed to me. Life is not easy here. You have to think twice before even breathing. Everything is analyzed with a twisted angle. I believe when going gets tough one shouldn't be going together. Time and distance together heal the wounds. They just don't understand that! I so wish we move out soon. I desperately need a peace of mind lest I rest in peace.
Nine days to my birthday, what a start!
I was surfing the channels and came across repeat telecast of Shahista's morning programme. It was the set that made me halt because it was designed by IRIS, one of my favourite wedding designers and planners. The programme was dedicated to mothers with Amir Liaquat Hussain as main guest while real-life mothers were also invited who had extra ordinary stories to tell about courage and struggle. While watching the programme and after, I realized I never really thanked God for blessing me with such a great mother and how often I took her for granted. Amir Liaquat's regret was that he didn't get chance to spend time with her mother when she was alive as work kept him busy mostly. As I reflect upon it I do regret too for not spending much time with her, to listen to her. My mother is alive Allhamdulliah, but now that I live far away, and not even allowed to call her daily, I am coming down with a guilty pang. How often have we thought that when we'll wake up next morning, this mother figure won't be present to grace us?