Vocal Silence

He passed away on 10 th Sept’ 17, 18 th of Zilhajj. So silently. I got a message of his demise but I hadn’t checked it till the fall of dusk when I put my head on the pillow to rest. I had not anticipated it. Never anticipated it. That was the day to be merry. I had to get up after a brief rest and get dressed for an engagement celebration. I was restless that day. Uncomfortable. But I had not anticipated that message. It was a significant day for me, 18 th of Zilhajj, the death anniversary of Hazrat Usman Ghani R.A. I was lying on the bed recalling the love of the Prophet P.B.U.H for H.Usman Zun-Nurain telling myself that I will offer two rakaat as esaal-e-sawaab for him as soon as I get up. But then I got the message and I could not sleep. I lied there with tears running down my cheeks, and even as they dried up on my face I still stood frozen on the threshold of a new world where Maqbool Sahab had stopped existing. I have heard he had grown extremely frail before his death. ...

Black. Black is beautiful for it does not require explanation. It is the negation of everything. Absence of colours. Not an absence of meaning for I intend it for a purpose, the purpose being to escape. Sometimes I wish for life to cease – end into the abyss of darkness, the blackness of my slumbers. Sometimes I wish to escape my identity – an identity awarded to me by others where people recognize me for my smile and joviality. I feel lost when that smile disappears and yes it disappears. Disappears for days. For endless, excruciating days when I do not know how to move forward, how to make sense of events and incidents for my identity has marooned me. That smile that disappears leaves me handicapped. Those days I lean on black, mirroring the wistfulness of my life when my mind exhorts me to be myself as if I am nothing other than radiance and positivity but my heart – my heart asks me to just stop – disappear, disappear into nothing and black is the best way for this to b...