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When you enjoy mama company in a juice shop after a medical checkup....
She told should I take my shuttle cock, I replied you will be unable to walk in a rush bazar, she agreed we went across Quetta, and asked for rickshaw, she replied, "no I am fine going around". I told isn't it relaxing to walk around the town? She told, of course it's.
Sometimes the illness of your parents would be missing you for a long time. When they see you fine and sound, they will tell you. No need of doctors, I am fine now. Anyway, the story of the illness is the longest one, and including her, I became its indirect victim.
She stood on my leg when I was only about five year old, broke my nose when in early teen, a story of love and hate at the same time. She will cry after, miss me, but couldn't bear me beside her. That's why I couldn't have mama love as a child, thanks to aunt and grandma adoption
From the available psychiatrist and shrines to the Sufis practices up-to Kandahar, Helmand, Quetta, nothing worked. But in post 9 11 era she became a bit well. Maybe #mentalhealth changes with time, a factor.
I still remember how she threw me upside down when I was a n class one, the pain in my head remind me the same day time and again, she sometimes feel sad over the past, I try to kiss her face, it wasn't you, it's the #mentalhealth that made the things worse. I'm fine with it.
But the beautiful things I have inherited from her are my being, my strong memory and love of the #mentalhealth victims. The worse I feel she could not live a normal life, but she is sharp in debates. I think she could have been Asma Jahangir, had she been educated as lawyer.
