We found ourselves sitting at home. Or was it the courtyard of a mosque that we frequently visited with our friends. Yeah, same thing.
You know when you live everyday with some people. You invest your time and emotions in them. They become your companions. You travel around discovering places. You find joy. You create memories. And then they have to move on. They have to leave because their journey… their purpose in life is different. In order to achieve that. In order to reach to their unique destination, they move on. They don’t leave the memories back. No sir. They put those priceless experiences in a treasure box that they hide close to their heart. Experiences that give them the courage to move on. To grow and to have faith in life. They grow together with the memories. Almost as if, the memories represented you. But they move on, and they continue making connections with other souls. They continue to leave meaningful footprints in strangers’ hearts. They make those strangers feel at home. Home, an invaluable gift in this cruel, lonely world. But this writing. This reflection is not about them. It is about those who are left behind. Everyone is left behind at some point of time. Which isn’t a bad thing. You are left behind for a purpose. To make a home for someone else. And eventually you will have to move on too. But no matter how much you hear about my experience. Nothing prepares you for the feeling when you come to realise. That your time with someone has come to an end.
It feels like revisiting your old apartment. You know every twist and turn like the back of your palm. With walls painted in mellow, fond memories from your childhood. And the musky, old scent of home. It almost feels like travelling back in time. Except, the people who you shared the memory. They are left back in the future. They are not here to witness this monumental occasion. It happens every time. The feeling never gets old. You relate to all of this? That is exactly how it was like. When…
When we found ourselves sitting at home. Or was it the courtyard of a mosque that we frequently visited with our friends. Yeah, same thing. We sat there still, as if nothing else mattered in life. Our problems disappeared. Even time came to a pause in awe. We breathed in every inch of that view. Our lungs jolted at the familiarity. It could not see. But it could feel. The air being a witness of those carefree times when we believed in a happily ever after. When we lived in the moment instead of reminiscing the past or worrying about the future. Our eyes scouted the deserted courtyard that once hosted a plethora of memories. Memories that came from various families of giggle and joy, stress and silly moments. And then the eerie silence dragged us back to reality. We looked at each other with solemn eyes. A handful of us that remain in this place that we call home. We smiled. But you have to trust me on this. That smile spoke a thousand words. We passed it around as if to support each other. It would go and embrace the other soul. To help us realise how lucky we were. How blessed we are. To get acquainted with people who we can call home. To have souls who we can be fully vulnerable to. To have experienced events and made memories that people only watch in movies.
We shrugged away the goosebumps and let our stiff shoulders sink into our body. We took a deep sigh of joy when we looked up at the sky.
Because it was a sky full of stars, yet the sky felt empty. And we knew why.
Mohsin A. 