He plays at other's weddings. At weddings of someone's daughter, sister, brother, son, imagining the day when he would marry off his daughter. That is what he plays for, that is what he earns for, for that one last wish through her one last breath.
He still remembers the day when she gave birth to her, knowing that the family wished for a son, knowing that she had, but, given birth to another unwanted mother, but she trusted her husband's morals without any doubts. She knew he would do anything for their child, because soon that will be all that he has.
As she pushed out what had become of her fetus, she whispered in his ears, "Marry her off proudly. She is the only one". He knew then, she won't live any longer, she won't live to call out to her child, who was named after her mother, Zainab, only it was this Zainab that he loved more. He felt strange how he could love her more than the Zainab that he was so passionate about, but after all, she did take after her mother.
He brought her up like a daughter and a son, playing the role of both, a mother and a father. He never stopped her from being who she wanted, a Qawwali singer, a doctor, a teacher, a soldier, he kept all doors open for her, not knowing what the future held for her, and leaving it up to her to paint her life, when she aspired to be an artist.
She wanted to change the world, she wanted to be and work with people, for the people. She enrolled herself in a rescue programme, went to the hills to help the landslide victims, and now she herself is a victim.
Thousands have been buried, missing, maybe dead, but her father knows nothing. He prays for her safe return, so he continues to play at the weddings, earn for that one last wish of His Zainab, to 'marry her off proudly', marry off the Zainab he loves so dearly.
And yet, no one knows whether a wedding awaits in her future, or whether she has already united with the Zainab, that she was named after.
He still remembers the day when she gave birth to her, knowing that the family wished for a son, knowing that she had, but, given birth to another unwanted mother, but she trusted her husband's morals without any doubts. She knew he would do anything for their child, because soon that will be all that he has.
As she pushed out what had become of her fetus, she whispered in his ears, "Marry her off proudly. She is the only one". He knew then, she won't live any longer, she won't live to call out to her child, who was named after her mother, Zainab, only it was this Zainab that he loved more. He felt strange how he could love her more than the Zainab that he was so passionate about, but after all, she did take after her mother.
He brought her up like a daughter and a son, playing the role of both, a mother and a father. He never stopped her from being who she wanted, a Qawwali singer, a doctor, a teacher, a soldier, he kept all doors open for her, not knowing what the future held for her, and leaving it up to her to paint her life, when she aspired to be an artist.
She wanted to change the world, she wanted to be and work with people, for the people. She enrolled herself in a rescue programme, went to the hills to help the landslide victims, and now she herself is a victim.
Thousands have been buried, missing, maybe dead, but her father knows nothing. He prays for her safe return, so he continues to play at the weddings, earn for that one last wish of His Zainab, to 'marry her off proudly', marry off the Zainab he loves so dearly.
And yet, no one knows whether a wedding awaits in her future, or whether she has already united with the Zainab, that she was named after.
