The Drive

Jawahara,
lovely to see you here again.
what a sad story you`ve written! and it reminds me of something that affected our church community five years ago, when one of the priests` wives, after being six months pregnant miscarried the baby. the complete funeral service could not be said for her (it was a girl), but prayers were chanted and said, and she is buried here.
the priest and his wife, and two adorable sons have been transferred to another church, in another state, but i remember what he said as he was bidding his adieu. . .there was much to connect them here. and i remember his voice almost breaking as he said, we buried a daughter here. it wasn`t an easy decision for them to leave.
and so at the end when you say they would return for sasha`s sake, i think they are returning for their own sake as well, no? she is really all they have as well, with all the love they showered on her. they are her connection to life, but she is their connection to life as well. . .that she did live, be it ever so briefly, and that she lives on for them?
best,
ana

gut-wrenchingly depressing.

hey j.

good read as always. your trademark embellishments are very restrained as always, almost as if you didn`t want to presume/tarnish the content.

a friend of our had a baby girl last year. she died in the hospital after three months, she had a rare medical condition and the doctors didn`t really know how to help her. i didn`t even go to their place to condole, i was heavily pregnant at the time and felt awkward, apologetic to be parading my own impending motherhood in front of someone who had just lost their own child. i have never had the courage to talk to him about it either. i talk around it when i do talk to him. this piece was very very moving.

shandana

remarkable.......

Again, your use of language and topic reminds me of psychoanalysis. From what I have read by you, I could say that your works are pieces of fantasies, especially in the interaction between the symbolic and semiotic. It seems to me that what you are proposing is an unconscious break with patriarchy that is oppressing you. That is the reason why mothering is a recurrent topic, as it is a pre-symbolic idylic phase in women`s construction of subjectivity. Here, it is not fulfilled; on the contrary, it is related to the act of death. You have narrated other cases of death/suicide. So my question here for you is: do you propose death as an alternative for motherhood, as the only way to espace from patriarchy?
Thanx

Just the right amount of despair, morbidity and hope. The detachment to the whole affair, without adding your own perspective is really good.
Depressing & uplifting without pity.

beautifully sad

jawahara:

…you seldom disappoint…

…life is a maddening rush (stream)…we journey up or down …depending on one’s vantage point…stepping on raised stones and rocks most times…or we bravely jump in occasionally into the coldness…happiness and sadness caressing the journey…the latter we forget or overlook so easily…(for we are human, haiN na?)… sadness stick to us… the greater the sensitivity the greater the sadness…this reminded me of Glimpse from Afar

lve,

t

Perfect.
Good to see you back

I just sent this off last Friday. I can`t believe it`s already up.

Thanks Temporal, as always. I am addicted to your comments :-).

Shandana, I can totally understand what you went through at that time. Somehow nothing you would do would seem right. Very sad and awkward. And what a burden for you to carry at what should have been a purely exciting and happy time.

Nooralain, yes, I do believe they returned and probably stayed for themselves, as much as for their daughter. A very astute comment.

Aude, I don`t see death as an escape or as an alternative. It fascinates me as subject because it is the only universal truth in our lives. It is the one state that cuts across all barriers...age, sex, religion, nationality, etc. And of course, it is always interesting to write about. I am not sure why my writing sounds like psychoanalysis. That`s interesting. How have you been? I haven`t heard from you for a while.

Everyone else, thanks for reading this and commenting on it.

That was an amazing piece. My parents had a daugher four years before I was born, who died in a car accident. The way they would, even after years of her death, talk about her and remember her was just a small glimpse into the world of pain they both shared.

Hi Jawahara:
This is like a well-crafted painting, the palette knife jabbing the colours on the portrait on the canvas...but I cannot see the eyes, if you know what I mean.

Perhaps you intended it to be that way...something held back. I did not read it as death as denouement; the story built up to an affirmation of life.

And yes, Goa...

Regards,
Farzana

Wonderous writing! Streaks of grey and black and feathery red intertwine to weave a tragic yet romantic tale that soothes. I didn`t care though about the Toyota Camry infomercial.

Welcome back to Chowk. We missed you.

i also thought along the same lines as farzana`s reading. . .that it was a reaffirmation of life. the story doesn`t `end` on a negative note. . .there is continuity, and life.

the toyota camry infomercial???!!!

It was depressing, well expressed specially with the idea of death and sepration.

I was really touched by this article. The way it is written makes the events unfold in front of your eyes.