The necessary pain...

The necessary hurt...what can one say..the occasion doesn't allow one to say much...to whom does one express heart felt grief...both happiness and grief can only be expressed to loved ones..who can understand and share the pain...but why does one grieve those lost loved ones who have gone to a better place and are in the hands of God...our belief teaches us to not mourn those who are dutiful in their lives, who have lived their lives within the boundaries of Islam and the defined principles of Allah..our faith teaches us not to mourn their loss..as they are in a better place, where there is no pain, no needles, no medical tests, no doctors' prescriptions, none of that hassle..isn't it a much more better concept and vision to see your loved one in such a better place...and yet...when my mother passed away....all I could remember is the constant tears and crying on my part...and there was no one to cry with me...usually in funerals there are sisters, khalas..some sort of female members of the family who lament more than the males...and yet..I had no one there...and then there was the worldly side to look after as well...to bury my mother...as I steeled myself to do those things that a son must do....between a constant haze of tears and my nose running continuously...and yet...it changed for person to person...for relatives who were close to my mother..I could cry freely on the phone to them..but others I would be formal and short....and that's about it...later I realized that I was actually realizing my mom's teachings in a way..she always told me to never show my emotions to someone who didn't care...and I think I would have done her proud there...but anyways...even in the situation of such grief...the first three days...I didn't sleep much...except when totally exhausted...other than that...all I could do was look at the walls and doors of the house and see my mom everywhere...expecting her to walk out of any door, to scold me for something...to call out to me...just to be there for me as she always used to be...in her own way.We always used to talk about how people would never realise the importance of someone in their real life...just like a light bulb..than only when the light went out...then we would realize how important it had been to have its presence there...of how many paths were lighted...and how something so common and seemingly insignificant would suddenly seem to be the cause of darkness in our world..but the outpouring of emotion cannot be controlled then...no amount of devotion or religious learning...can prepare one for that....the suddenness of seeing my mother go still in my arms...to hold her hand in mine and feel it go so cold...and to then suddenly find it wet with my tears...at once accepting that she was gone and I am all alone...even when the medics tried CPR...I knew it was far too late..and that my mother was gone...there was no sound...my arms around my mom...I don't know if I should hate myself for this..but I sort of knew that it would happen...but never like this...and it was so sudden...perhaps if I read this later it might sound that it would be me being in a melodramatic moment..but it was nothing of the sort...one can never be prepared for that sort of action....there is no fixed reaction..I just felt so helpless that I couldn't do anything...but when God calls...we answer...Innallah ha Ina Illahi Rajihoon...Oh Allah from You have you have come...and to You we will return....and yet...man is so fickle..and weak..that even with the help of the greatest entity of the world...we bow to the strings of the heart...but how can we not..we have been taught to love by Him...and even our devotion to Him is a direction representation of our love to Him...and even though we don't want to believe in this worldly existence..and yet...it hurts so much when your most loved person leaves this world and goes away...not a physical pain...but a more deep and piercing pain that is so painful that it seems that one can almost feel their heart break...literally..the pain is excruciating....almost suffocating ..what one really wants to do is just cry it out..but life is so cruel is that I wasn't even given that luxury...helping my dad plan the funeral and work it out as we wanted it to be..and it was such a mixed response...at one time serious and grieving at others...such a conflict..even I didn't know what to call it...but the thought of losing my mother...my rock...my universe...there were no words to describe that ...there was so much I wanted to tell her..to talk to her about...to be able to serve her...to be able to be with her...to have her attend my wedding...tell my children to play with their grandmother...all the little things that we did together...the kisses...the hugs...the feel of my mother's hand on my cheek..her gentle rebukes...the endless talks on every concern able topic in life...the singing of songs together...discussing what happened in school..talking about what kind of girl I would marry...how she would dry my tears all the times I cried...all the times I would curl up in my bed and in the morning I would have a blanket over me...as my mom had tucked me in...all those times we take for granted in our life....but the most heart rendering moment was when I saw her for the last time...my mother looked as she was sleeping..she was so calm...her face was so clear...in my heart, I wanted to call out to her...to tell her "mom plz come back...plz wake up..how would I live in this life without you....without you telling me what to do...shielding me from the world..." and yet...nothing came out...I always wanted to remember her as the vibrant lady she was...always so full of life and humor...throughout the dua..only thing I can remember are the words that I memorized as a kid..and the tears flowing down my cheeks...someone tried to comfort me...I can't remember who..someone skinny and thin..and saying some well rehearsed lines to me...all I can remember is glaring at them so hard that they took their hands off me and moved away....I didn't want to be rude...but I didn't want anyone to give me false condolences of any kind...I just didn't want any of that sort of feeling...I wasn't in the right state of mind to judge anyone...and yet...I simply wanted to be alone...my mom always believed that her son was capable of so much...and I knew it was my duty to now do that...even in such a difficult time..the duty of a son had to be fulfilled..and my mother had already groomed me in such a way that I would have done so even if I wasn't in any frame of mind to comprehend what I was doing....lowering my mother into the grave...I didn't realise that in spite of all the rain nothing was wet...it was all dry...only thing wet were my eyes...I set the planks of wood...taking care that nothing would get through...and then finally filling in the grave..that was the hardest part...and then a Bosnian lady who was visiting her father's grave in the front of my mother's ...came down and tried to distract me by asking some questions...but then she said..that I shouldn't be grieving because at the time of interment in the grave is the time when one enters Heaven...one should be happy for them....all I could say that I knew that she was in Heaven...I was crying because I had been left alone.....