nargis kay phool …

This day last year!

An overcast sky is hanging over the lake. Every now and then there is a sprinkle of tiny droplets. It was the same last night. I could hear the rain falling softly. There was no other sound. Being acutely aware of a familiar tug at my heart,I put the book on the table and let myself go adrift on overwhelming wave after wave of times that once were.
I had a long talk with my son before he headed back home. Every week, when he comes visiting us, I always have this special time with him. Family dinner, gup shap after the table is cleared, tea/ coffee. then the girls, their baba and chacha play board games. I still remember the awe on the chacha’s face. When the games ended and saying good night both the girls went into their room for the night, he came and said “she beat me three times! never letting anyone win! what kind of an eleven year old is she” I laughed.

So, everyone calling it a night went to their rooms leaving us two sitting and talking.

We had an enjoyable talk with him, and after he left, brought my book to the family room and reclined with book in my hand. There was no way I was going to read anything tonight. Our conversation had stirred something in my memory and now the old log was open and demanding my attention.

And the rain was falling. Thinking about Pakistan, thinking about Wah and Islamabad, I fell asleep. When I came up again from the depths of a spell, it was three in the morning. I remember the last image flashing before my eyes closed again was my mother,s blooming garden in Wah and someone working in the flower beds. Zarrin Khan, no doubt. Who else could it be?

In the afternoon, I was at Lows garden section, buying flowers, then went to Home Depot to buy more plants, potting soil, special fertilizer for Bougainvilleas. Trellises. And a special something that I had thought about last night … the Daffodil bulbs. We call then Narcissus. They grew in abundance in my mother’s garden!

Yes, Narcissus – Nargis kay phool!!

11/9/2014

11/9/2015
Orlando.

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