They left a lasting impression on me. (AMMI, ABBU)

On the 29th of June, 1997, Ammi, it has been 24 years since you left us on April 28th, 2000. It's been 21 years since you left us,  and I am still moving forward ... Ammi abbu, it was difficult for me to cope with the anguish that had occurred in my heart when you left us, and I bear this pain with grace. This is something I have to deal with on a daily basis... 

I miss your presence in the items you bought for me, Abbu, a dinner  set that we went to acquire for me.  a tea set you two brought back from Hajj for me. My blanket reminds me of you two every night. 

I don't have a wardrobe or closet to open and miss your presence in your possessions. However, I recall the perfectly folded shirts and the neatly kept garments and accessories.

Your Itter (perfume), rosary, and several Topi (hats) in a closet are no longer waiting for you to appear at any moment, Abbu. 

From Fajr prayers in the morning to Asr recitation, my several naps on Ammi's lap during her recitation, to her getting ready for school and cooking breakfast for all of us as well as a lunch for Abbu. Your’s and  Ammi’s  grocery trips together. 

I imagine Ammi walking home from work with bags full of fruit rather than preparing FALSA KA SHARBAt for us all. 

I never recall seeing her scowl or be agitated in any way while doing things or keeping up with her hectic and exhausting schedule. 

Your comb, Tibet cream, and Surma Daani were the only items of clothing I recall you wearing, Ammi. I envision a simple and everyday life.

Abbu Your vaste on the one hand and  documents  on the other are the strange genetic adaptations I've discovered in myself. That's exactly how you lived. 

Ammi, From ironing your starched garments to making tea for Abbu, I've done it all. From my earliest memories of receiving milk from a bottle in Grade 3-4, to sleeping on your laps during your Ibaadah periods as a child, to a byic ride with Abbu. I treasured each and every one of them. 

A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth, recalling all those happy occasions, and what a commotion you'd make each time if AMMI had prepared the vegetables. Dishes twice a week or someone will ruin your well-organized bookcase, closet, or clothes that used to be within it, as well as the tea if it is not prepared in a specific way. 

I enjoy reminiscing about each of these as much as I love you.

I recall you through the fragments of the objects I brought with me. 

In my eyes, the walls don't provide a good image of you to follow your presence in the memories we've formed over the years, Ammi Abbu. We had your wardrobe and bookshelves as a part of you to calm us, and the house we've all shared doesn't wait for you to emerge at any moment; instead, it's generating memories for someone residing there now. Rather, they are making memories for the people who are now residing there. 

Even the streets we shared for many years and which I have now left behind have no resemblance to us. To remember us, I play a reel from my past. Every second of the day, you exist in me, and you live in me through the characteristics I took from you two to embrace my inner self.

In the consciousness of the thoughts you taught us, you are alive. 

My brain doesn't have to work as hard, and my thoughts don't become tangled up in my ideas. 

I messed up the closets and brought the Surma Daani, an empty bottle of Tibet cream with some shed hairs Ammi combed the last time within it, and the comb itself when I came here from abroad. I retained the blood-stained scarf you wore at the moment of your accident, as well as one of your garments. I only have one Kurta with me, Abbu. It has lost its novelty, but it has retained its time worth, lifestyle, and much more. 

Someone else now lives in the house we used to live in, the closets are still being used by someone, and the streets are much more crowded.

With the realization of what had happened, everything altered. People pass away or relocate, but memories endure. 

Abbu, your Kurta and Topi, Ammi, your Surma Daaani, comb, hijab, empty bottle of Tibet cream with hairs strewn from the last comb, all sitting there emitting all those familiar vibes, reminding me of all those times.

They have harmed me considerably more today. Yes, they absorbed  a lot in my mementoes, I got consumed by these memories  in June 2021. 

I'm remembering, reminiscing, and reliving all of your possessions and memories associated with them all over again. Yes, we gave practically all of your possessions to someone else, just as we gave up sight of you, but I kept every second, every moment we spent together in my heart.

Our memories don't need to be recycled or composted because they always replenish. 

My bones are disintegrating and my soul  is shattered, but our past never fails to bring a smile to my face. 

I adore all of them. Each of them has a story about us. 

I adore them all, just as I adore you. And I simply cannot let go of any of these memories.