By Aliya Manzoor
Alima, I am that common girl, always searching for my identity in the midst of the world’s chaos. Sometimes I roam around, searching in my home, streets, village, and city, trying to find my own recognition, my true self. I am not capable of taking care of myself in this terrifying time. I remember, I recall my childhood, when you would scold your own children. I would watch, longing, as you pushed them away from me. I, too, would feel weak and helpless.
I am unique because of you. I am distinct from everything, even the sky and the entire world. You didn’t make me yours, yet you made me cry with love. I still remember those days; they still make me cry sometimes. The feeling of every time still causes pain and stress. You held me captive, draining my strength. Your words cut deep, silencing my voice and shrouding me in shame.
I am torn between two states. You would inflict immense pain upon me, and yet I would look at you with eyes of love. Sometimes I rise as high as the sky, and then I am affected by the bad things that come from the sky. I haven’t seen them, but they’re accusing me of the love that existed between us in the past. I was thirsty for love, but they didn’t fulfill it. You showed me darkness, then led me to light, only to make me cry again. You revealed to me the terror of human nature, yet instructed me to place my faith in them despite all. I was longing for something, and you made me cry by placing it right in front of me.
My complaint is not with time, but with myself. I managed to hold on to myself for a little while, but now I’m struggling to keep myself together. I have isolated myself because I need your support. I am too overwhelmed to handle difficult situations alone. I didn’t find a home, nor did I find a family. You were always lost in your own thoughts, and I was lost in gazing at you.
I carried the scars of my childhood within me, absorbing all the pain. I was weak, yet I continued to smile. You, however, showcased your strength and tyrannized me. I thought you understood me, and with that hope, I had pinned my expectations on you. I fear that you’ll try to make me like you, and then blame me and my bloodline. The glance you cast upon me, the face you make, it’s a perpetual anguish that haunts my being.
I wanted to set myself free, but your memories have arrested me. I carry a burning fire in my heart, yet I meet you every day. Despite this, the fear of society has killed me. I am that girl who always gets punished for doing nothing. I am the one whom the world has scattered. If I ever try to rise and be genuine, I am definitely humiliated and made to feel ashamed. I was crushed by the whims of fate, left to wither, worn and weary.
My youth was spent trying to make you understand. I can neither replace you nor erase you, but I hope you’ll realize that you snuffed out my youth, right from my childhood. If you lead by example, all will be transformed. Yet, I tremble at the intensity of your gaze, which stores even the darkest of souls.
When will you bring justice to this cruel, unjust, and harsh world? I am aware of everything, but I won’t say anything. I see all, but I remain silent. I used to think that the people around me would understand and appreciate my worth. But they didn’t remember me, and now I realize that was just a foolish imagination. This loneliness, this injustice, has become poison in my heart. When will you understand that love is not about your own blood, child, beauty, money, necessity, or wealth? If you could understand how preoccupied my heart and mind are with your words, I’d consider myself half-mad, summoning you myself.
I wish the world would understand me, and then comprehend its own perspective, for our future is drowning in the gestures of others. I have the capacity to give the world so much from my treasure, but I fear that you’ll erase me with your words. I’ve seen tears in my own eyes, and then seen myself holding on, persevering. What can you take away from me now? I’ve been estranged from your love for a long time, and I’ve been angry with this entire world.
All I can do is pray that I can understand myself somehow, because thinking about you day and night gives me nothing.
An orphaned girl’s echoes of her mind.
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