Sunday, May 3, 2015

It must be nice

I missed the days where I would wake up in the morning to the smell of my umi's cooking.
I remember walking down the stairs, still half asleep, expecting delicious meal to be on the table.
Being the lovely mom she was, she would ask me to eat first while she cleans the kitchen, and being an ungrateful son I am, I would gladly take a seat without even helping her. And on that table, are nothing but my favorite foods.

The thing about my umi is that she knows what I like and what I don't like. I love chicken rice, so she'll make sure to serve them at least once a month. I hate curry, so she won't make curry as our main meal ever. It's nice having a person who knows what you prefer, even if it was a simple thing as your appetite.

When she's gone, Wallahi it hurts.
I struggled to live. Everything is so dark and I honestly want to die. It didn't take long for me to realise that she was part of the air that I breathe in every second of my life. Everyone tried to cheer me up and inspire me with their words but deep down I know how damaged I am. I'm broken. They can't fix me now. "Ikram, hey, I know how you feel". "I understand you". Man, these people. they have no idea what it feels like. Not even a clue.

Wallahi it hurts,
And up until now, nothing has changed. You see, my family is not the type to hold hands and talk about feelings or have a group hug after a dinner. Heck, we don't even eat on the same table.
My brothers?
One of them is too busy wasting my dad's money and the other only came home once every two months.
My sister?
She is studying in a boarding school, and I can't look at her without hating the way she used to disrespect umi every time they talk. Even after umi's death, I just wanted to see a sign of regret from my sister but it never came.
And as for my dad,
heh, well, he didn't even cry the day my mum's gone so what's more to say about him.
Each of us is suffering, but as I said before, I'm not expecting a group hug from them anytime soon.

Wallahi it hurts,
I tried so hard to continue on living.
And only yesterday, my dad brought me lunch to home so we could eat together.
It was curry.
I can't stop myself from laughing.
It's not because I hate the food,
It's not that I despise my dad for buying food that I don't like.
It's because I realise that there's no one else anymore who knows about my appetite.

You see, the reason you have "favorite food" is because someone actually cares.
Truthfully, I'm not sure what's my favorite food anymore
It must be nice having a person who knows what you prefer, even if it was a simple thing as your appetite,
 don't you think?

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