August 4, 2012

It's been 4 years since he was killed.

It's strange, but I don't tell people my father died. Because to me, he didn't. It seems too lukewarm, too natural and not as painful, somehow. And the truth is, his death was none of those things.

My father was killed by a person who walked into his office, brandished a gun, shot only him (when everyone else including my brother were in same room) and ran off without taking the money. Either it was a trigger-happy, slightly stupid robber who needed no money, or this was a targeted killing. I believe the latter, but we have no proof. Largely because the police's ideas of investigation were terrorizing my mother, my brother and our servants with fairly pointless cross-questioning. Since they did more harm then help, my family dropped the case. And all pretensions of access to justice.

And now, 4 years later, daddy's daughter is sitting on her bed, on a cloudy-grey day that cries with her, looking around her and wondering how she allowed herself to get so lonely. Wondering why she spent the past few years deliberately pushing people away. Why every decision she has taken has pushed her towards this large, beautiful, but empty apartment in Islamabad, miles away from Karachi - and from her father's grave. She wonders why she turned down all of the socially acceptable, perfectly good men who wanted to marry her, despite all the craziness, in favor of a relationship with a younger man who does not understand her - and probably never will. She wonders why she moved so far away from everything she was, so much of what she believed in, so many people she loved.

Most of all, she wonders where all of this has led her. Because despite all the bravado, all the smart, independent decisions and all outward assurances to the contrary, when she looks within and sees where she is, she knows she is not happy.

And she knows this is not how he wanted her to be.


Winter Song said...

Hugs and my condolences.We're never old enough to deal with the loss of a parent, especially if they're taken away from us so brutally. The distances you've created from everyone, the bridges that you've built between yourself and the others, have been your way of dealing with the pain and turmoil. You will heal, and then, when you're ready you'll walk back again. All the best. I am into my 9th year without my mother, I am still struggling. Wishing you the best of luck, and love.

Anonymous said...

Prayers for your dad. we're never ready for the loss of a loved one, especially our parents. May you be blessed with the strength to become stronger with every passing day and may you have all the experiences in life that make you happy.

Lots of love and hugs


Saad F'akhtar said...

Call me before or after you write these things! Really, call me!

Xeb said...

Thank you, I appreciate the comments.

Rakhi said...

Xeb, I am so sorry to hear about your father. My heartfelt condolences and prayers for you.
And I know how it feels to end a long relationship even though staying in it may have been painful. The void does seem like too much to bear. But have faith in time. It will all heal soon.
Best wishes and love