“I want to see the world,” whispers a tiny voice in my head, the voices of our childhood giggles follow after the thought, rushing after it to add to the fully pinching effect of the stinging memory. At that time, it sounded next to impossible. Our childhood was nothing but sweltering heat or freezing winters in a small dingy house set in a village far in the heart of the mango fields.
Broken boulevards often brought people to the village that was mostly submerged in the dark with no electricity to light the nights. Zareen, however, believed that the passion and dreams of the heart never went unheard. They traveled with the butterflies, far off into the sky to be fulfilled. No wonder she kept chasing the colorful butterflies until she got ahold of one so she could whisper her wish in its ears.
I thought it was a wild goose chase and it indeed still is. We wanted to see the world, but we wanted to see it together. Fate is never merciful; it charges its own cost of fulfilling one’s requests and plucking one’s dreams into realities. And in our case, the cost was just her life. Even though I am walking the streets of Prague, yet I am walking without her and the beauty that surrounds me, all colors and glitters, is anything but beautiful without her.
I watch it through the thick lens of tears and realize that wishing upon a broken star or whispering in a butterfly’s ears is just a childhood fancy that can cost one dearly. We moved to the city one fateful evening. It all sounded eventful and exciting at that time as is shifting for children.
Had we remained in the safe arms of our village, my sister would have been lesser known and come little in the eyes of all the people. My sister was beautiful and just as anything beauty also comes at a cost. The cost of marrying off early, for no beautiful girls can escape the eyes of people and, thus, have to be married.
Zareen was always adamant about what she wanted, yet she was selfless so she gave in and this is where she made a mistake. Marriage is good for people, or at least that is how elders pose marriage to be, even child marriage that bears children at an early age. But what next? A child and a weak mother who can’t survive it all.
Her heart grew weak with the birth of her son. She loved him with all her weakening heart, but it couldn’t take it anymore and just died like that. And it happened just as simple as it sounds.
Another day with a weak heart, alone at her home with no one else, the sunshine pouring in and Zareen fainting suddenly like every other time. Only this time she did not wake up. Everybody said, this was expected, and I just want to scream into the shrill air, was that really expected?
