AYSHA

Where do I start to describe this miracle that happened to me?Some people say miracles never do happen and some just live with the hope that one day,the miracle will happen to you,I am most definitely in the latter group.

Aysha,the name is beautiful enough but to know the person and share an almost ethereal relationship is almost dream like.I will refrain from ever using the past tense when it comes to her,because I realize that she will never become my past,no matter how time alters anything or everything or how fate dictates our lives.As long as I exist,she will always be my present.I'm scared to render her in the image of my future,in that realm of the unknown where you are at the whim of uncertainty.How can I let her drift to the unknown?How can I let the only certainty in my life drift away from me?

I have arrived in a country far away from home,called Australia.The days seem to rush by in a blur,and one can just try to live each day as it passes by without realizing that this incessant din and rush may sometimes make us feel that we are just going through the motions.I attend university and try to befriend people so as to dispel my feeling of isolation and despair but it is then when I am amongst others is when I truly feel the weight of solitude bearing down on me,threatening to drag me down and keep me there till I submit to it and fade away.

I fight a battle almost everyday,I'm sure everyone does,but the demons that we face always seem much more frightening and impassable,so we think.When I'm facing doubts that surface almost at their will and wish,I try searching for anything that will comfort me and put me at peace.I realize that I almost give up every time but then an image comes to my mind,or rather a collage.I see my mother,my father,my little sister and suddenly I find courage to fight against all odds,not for me,but for them,If I live for them,I find a reason to live.If I live for them,I realize that I live for others,that if I exist,I may make a difference to someone,somewhere.

I close my eyes to stem the flow of tears;I want to sleep as my mother sings a lullaby in which she describes this world as a place full of joy;when she held me to alleviate my fears;when she would speak of tales where love and miracles made sure that good prevailed.I sometimes wake up and search for her,reminding me of my days as a kid,when I would wake up from a nightmare and call out to her,and she would come running to me and cradle me in her arms and tell me that all was fine,but now I can only search for her in my dreams,and she still comes to me through labyrinth of my mind,like only a mother can even if she is far away.