Dua

I'm not very regular with my prayers but sometimes when I wake up for Fajr, I can hear my grandmother praying in her room. Our rooms are side by side. They have been for some time now, back from when we used to live in Karachi. I like to keep my door open so I can hear her if she calls me. Dado does the same. Quite often, she comes in in the middle of the night to check on me. They both used to do that. Mian, my grandfather, would walk in and, on finding me reading, sit down to chat. It didn't matter what time it was. It never does. As long as you are with someone you love, make sure you make the most of it.

I realise I've become very insecure about my relationships. I'm dreading going back to Pakistan now. I don't want to lose Dado. I don't want to be called up and given bad news. I don't want to come back to a house that doesn't contain the mercy of her loving presence, of her soft duas caressing me tenderly even in my sleep. I know this is childish, that everyone inevitably has to leave. But not now. Please not now.