Mirrors and Reflections

By

Maliha Jahanzeb

Daastan Publishing

First Published in Pakistan by Daastan PVT LTD

House # A-41, Madni Street, Lala Rukh, Wah Cantt, Punjab 47040

www.daastan.com www.meraqissa.com

Text copyrights © Maliha Jahanzeb

Book Design copyright © Maliha Jahanzeb

Edited and Formatted by: Daman Khalid

The moral rights of the writer, illustrator and editor have been asserted.

All rights reserved

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-969-696-763-7

Dedicated to my late parents: Khalid and Samina

Table of Contents

A Visit to the Attic

On Loss.

The Struggles of Motherhood

Judgement and Negativity

Hope

Courage

On Road to Kashmir

A Journey of a Lifetime

On Triumph

Morning of the Desert

Finding A Meaning

Acknowledgements

About the Author

The Prose

A Visit to the Attic

         Sofia shambled weakly along the store room, the wooden floor creaking under her night slippers. It was certain that without her grandson by her side taking half of her weight on his shoulders, she wouldn’t be able to make it across that floor. Nevertheless, Sofia was a very active woman for her old age. She was known for her heart-toheart talks, likable demeanor and most of all, her art of storytelling. For that very reason, youngsters would love to sit near her, sipping hot chocolate in winters and listening to the stories of exciting adventures.

        She stepped over the wooden floor as it creaked beneath her feet and approached the bookshelves in the attic. She extracted the oldest photo album from a shelf and flipped open the book. The moment her eyes laid on its pages, she gasped loudly startling her grandson.

        “What? What happened?” he asked worriedly.

        She waved her hand at him and said: “Oh you wouldn’t understand. It’s my old photo album when I was at the college, spending my days at the hostel.” She sighed dreaming about her days, looking lost in thoughts.

        “Really? How come we never heard of your hostel days before? I don’t remember mother ever relating how you spent your life as a hosteller.”

        “Oh, your mother? Ha! She wouldn’t know!” she chuckled. “I hid away all my photos of pre-marriage and hostel days when your mother was young. I often forget that I actually have one for myself.”

        Looking back at the picture where Sofia sat beside the window of her hostel room, it seemed she was sucked fifty years back into her life.

        In the hostel room, she sat writing a paper for the anthropology course. All around her, most of her friends were already free, done with their exams or term papers. She sat irritated that she was among only few who were left with their term papers. She blew out her candle and went outside the hostel and onto the college grounds. The lake attracted her, the beautiful lake where students were often found either taking a mid-day nap in the summer or reflecting upon some philosophy. She went near and saw her reflection in the clear water. She felt alive and radiant as she looked upon the figure reflecting back at her from the mirror. “Who are you?” she wondered in her head. “Are you happy with the way things are? Or are you lost and still searching for something?”

         It seemed the life she had led was something she had been forced into. She did not have much interest in Finance and mathematical courses but because in her times there were not too many colleges that were offering courses in English Literature or Creative Writing so she ended up doing Bachelors in Finance. As it was not enough, she had to bear the effects of cultural shock as well. Those were the difficult years of moving into a new city that was completely different from the city she was born into. At that time, she was uncertain but her greatest passion was writing and art. But later in life, whenever she thought about her passion it was nothing but love for writing, art and poetry.

        Those years were tough and challenging when her mother was diagnosed with cancer again for the 3rd time, this time in the liver, and was undergoing chemotherapy. Her younger brother was only 11 years old. The visits to the hospital and the dislocation from the homely environment made her extremely depressed. She was not even in touch with her childhood friends for a very long time. Then the time she spent at her college as an undergraduate was very passive and dismal, away from all the social activity at college.

        “Really grandma?! I wouldn’t, or for that matter anyone would ever believe that YOU of all the people in the family could have undergone depression!” her grandson, Adam, exclaimed out of utter disbelief and she realized that she was narrating her saga to him.

        “Oh well Adam, life is full of surprises. Some are pleasant and some are very unpleasant. And it is not for us to say, what should come our way or what shouldn’t come our way. When it does, it just does, and we got to keep at our toes and be ready to face the storm.” Her eyes were gleaming as if hiding a mystery behind them while saying these words.

        She again looked at the photo album to find a picture of her backyard and she was once again swept off to another world. The backyard had a date palm, a mango tree and a huge Banyan tree with swings.

       “Hey Mishal! My mother has planned an amazing game for all of our friends! We’re going to play the Crystal Maze game!” exclaimed a 13-year-old Sofia to her best friend Mishal. Her mother was a talented lady who used to do many creative activities for all the kids in the compound. She often organized cultural shows and exciting games for all the kids and they used to wait eagerly for those programs.

        “Really Sofia?” asked Mishal excitedly. “I can’t wait! Crystal Maze is my favorite game! I wonder how your mother is going to manage all that.”

        And finally, the day of their little celebrations approached. All the games were set up in the backyard. There was a mystery game, a mathematical game, a game in which the player had to climb a ladder and fill bucket with water (water had to be collected from the hose pipe from a faraway tap) to bring the crystal upwards and many others!

        This was her life at home, but her life when she entered high school was no less fun. Once Sofia and her friends were too bored during break and they really felt like having an activity. They found empty water bottles lying nearby and started using them as drums and had a great singing session. However, one of the junior teachers found out. Thus, Sofia and her friends were busy singing, when somebody quickly ran into the classroom.

       “Everyone, Miss Sniffet is coming!”

        They quickly got up to their seats. In such moments, everyone in the class used to be excited and thrilled, but they quickly tried to resume back to their normal selves when a teacher or senior approached. However, Sofia always had great difficulty returning back to her normal self. She would always end up bursting into laughter even when the teacher would have entered. Today, she was caught.

      “Whose idea was this? Using school water cans as drums?” bellowed the Junior Teacher. No one answered. “I’m asking you something, Grade 9! This is not a joke!” It seemed steam was blowing down her nostrils like an angry dragon.

       Despite Miss Sniffet’s anger, Sofia, engrossed in the fun they just had, could not sustain the laughter within.