Although any death of a loved one can be emotionally devastating but sudden or untimely deaths give traumatic experiences. It was the 8th of October-2020, I was sitting in my study room expecting a knock at the door by my mother who used to serve me lunch at the proper time. While performing her daily chores, she often recited the Kashmiri verses or Darood Shreif that gave us a hint of her presence at home. But, on that particular day, I heard no sound, no knock. That gloomy silence raised my anxiety very high. I stood up, came out of the room to know the reason for her delay. In the meantime, I heard a loud noise in the nearby kitchen garden and within a couple of minutes, a huge crowd assembled in and around the place. I also approached there barefooted without knowing the actual situation. Alas! The most unfortunate and horrible scene was just a few yards away from me. As i entered the premises, I saw my mother’s body collapsed on the ground, pooled in blood from head to toe. She had become the victim of man-wild conflict. Accidents are part of life but certain accidents can never be forgotten or erased from the mind. Whenever I pass from that very spot, it always haunts me.

Her death was preordained. Neither in or any earthly power could alter her fate but what made me uncomfortable is that her physical absence will never allow me now to share my achievements or failures with her any more. Her presence used to make every place feel like a home. Now i wander around feeling her shadows. Her cracked hands, dried eyes, and feeble body structure reflecting her courage and commitment. She was very diligent, caring, and affectionate. She not only kept her family tied with love but also shared the same intensity of love with others
Very few people knew about her spiritual stature. She was a God-fearing lady; connected with one of the spiritual lineages of the Sufi Order (Sisila). She attained the proper allegiance from the spiritual mentor as required by any disciple who wishes to be part of this sacred path. Her simplicity, steadfastness, patience aret he outcome of her supererogatory prayers that she used to perform in isolation. If anyone approached her with any problem mainly the health-related complications of newborn babies like mouth sores, swelling, rashes, anxiety, etc, she always welcomed everyone with a smiling mood and treated them without any communitarian bias or malice .Her modesty, sympathetic and humble attitude, truly suited to her name “Haleema”- meaning mild-hearted. Throughout her life, she remained a staunch supporter of indigenous culture and followed the ethics of morality strictly. When all the women in the locality replaced their headgear with the modern scarf, she preferred to wear Kashmiri headgear (Daug)- a simple piece of cloth square in shape with light needlework at the edges and a long traditional gown (Pheran). Your simple living and dress code became your identity. Being your son, I feel proud when I hear people citing the example of your simplicity and kindness in social gatherings even today when you are not physically present with us. I can’t find words to describe how valuable you were to me. The death of you will always remain to be the greatest loss in my life. May God grant you eternal peace!

Email:----imudasirali@gmail.com