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Varying colours of life

Nighat Jabeen

Life has its own colours. Some are bright, some dark. I was brought up in a nuclear family. My father used to return home at 4 p.m. or 5 p.m. from his job. So he had time to spend with his family.

My father is very caring towards my mother. For me it is the best couple on earth. Simply, made for each other. One’s thoughts, attitudes and perceptions are governed by the atmosphere in which one lives.

So I as an individual expected the same from my marriage. But I was an idiot to think like that. Things are always different for different people.

I have never been alone at home for a night before my marriage. If ever I would be alone, it was not more than two or three hours during daytime. I never imagined being alone for a week. But some things are always beyond imagination.

Whenever I was ill, my husband was never by my bedside. He was on his tour. He always prescribed me pills on phone. I was alone completely to wonder at my future. I felt that after my death, my husband would hire persons on phone for my last formalities. Because he will still be busy in his work. That is all he can do for me.

Even if my husband is at home he is never empty handed. He never spares even a holiday. He spreads all his papers in the room. To answer the question mark, felt in my expressions, he would say, “sweetheart tomorrow is the deadline and it is very urgent.”

Once he was gazing intensely at me. I took it as a romantic mment. Then he cried. “Oh no.” On inquiring he replied, “I forget to highlight holidays in my ATP.”

Anyone can understand how stupid I felt.

Now if he looks at me with sunken eyes, I know he is checking his accounts. I can’t blame him. He is a kind hearted and supportive person he is caring but he doesn’t have time to care. He is a good professional, dedicated to his work. And one cannot be good about everything at the same time.

As goes the saying, “You cannot please all at the same time.” So to please one you have to disappoint the other.

Like every wise man my husband prefers to disappoint his wife rather than his bosses. Because the need of love ranks lower than the basic needs like food and shelter.

One can think of love when his stomach is full and he has a place to hide himself. To keep stomach full one needs to work.

Sometimes I feel exhausted and decide to return to my homeland. But my consicience stops me. I don’t want him to feel the pain of loneliness. Though I know he doesn’t have time to feel it.

Anyways I am not going to leave him. I must justify myself by saying:

Kabhi kisi ko mukkamal jahan nahin milta,
Kahin Zamin to lahin Aasman nahin milta.

(No one ever gets the entire world, some miss the earth some miss the skies)


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