My Mother

It has been one month, two weeks, and six days since my mother passed away. She died on the 29th April at 11:20am in the University Hospital of Wales, Cardiff (Heath hospital). Still grieving from her death, I feel I should write about her to let others know what a amazing, kind woman she was and how she went from independent new-age thinker to dominated housewife.

She was born on the 10th October, 1942 in Amritsar, India  (historically known as Rāmdāspur). The city famously known to have the Golden Temple (also known as Harmandir Sahib), a holy site to those who follow Skikhism. At the time, it was part of British India which had begun circa 17th Century from activities led by and expansion of the East India Trading Company. From what I've read, the Company's shares were owned by wealthy merchants. The Government had no ownership until legislation was passed and the areas that the Company ruled was held on trust to the British Crown. India's citizens followed a number of religions such as Islam, Sikhism, Christianity, Hinduism and had a diverse population.

Her family were Kakazai. A tribe that orginally came from the Laghman Province of Afghanistan. Thinking back, I remember when a Sikh friend of mine used to call me 'Afghan' in high school despite telling him that I wasn't. I found it strange when I eventually found out that some of my ancestors do actually originate from there. The tribe invaded parts of South Asia and as with all conquests, settled at various spots.

In 1946, the Labour government at the time decided to end its control of India. World War II had depleted a lot of resources and as a result, Britain was exhausted. It was therefore unrealistic to maintain control of a relentless India as its people were striving for independence. There were many political parties at the time like the Muslim League led by Mohammed Ali Jinnah who attempted to form a Hindu-Muslim alliance. However, this failed some years prior to 1946. A two-nation theory became a popular idea amongst the Indian muslims by Mohammed Iqbal in the 1930s. The idea somewhat remained despite Jinnah becoming leader of the All India Muslim League again in the 1940s. It therefore meant that Muslims will have their own land and vice versa for Hindus.

As Britain prepared to relinquish control of India and partition it, violence amongst the population increased, fueled by religious differences. My mother was four years old at the time. I remember her telling me stories of how they owned a very nice property and were failry well off. She had a two sisters. Tension between the political factions grew as time came closer to independence as mentioned above. Since my mother's family were muslim, they were told they would have to relocate along with  hundreds of other families. During this process, my mother told me that her that one of her sisters had died. Many people, young and old, were unable to survive the relocation process due to starvation and illness as well as fighting. It has been reported that there was much bloodshed due to the violence and that somewhat 250,000 - 500,000 died.

On thr 14th of August 1947, the dominion of Pakistan was formed. My mother's parents settled in the northern suburb called Shahdara Bagh. She took me once back in 2000 as her father was unwell. We stayed there for three months. The area is poverty stricken with an open sewage system in place. Being born in the UK and brought up here, I did not like what I saw. It was a huge jump for me. At times, when the temperature was above 40 degrees celsius, the electricity would go out for hours. To provide you with a visual description, it has a resemblance to the Brazilian favelas. Most of the residents there belong to the same Kakazai tribe so I can see why they decided to settle down.

In regard to academia, she was bright and a hard worker. She told me how she used to compete with her friends to see who would get the highest score. She;d also regularly tuition local kids in the area. I've always known her to be good at mathematics and later went to the University of the Punjab, situated in Lahore. Mum obtained a degree in History. I personally loved History at high school and still do to this day. This love led me to enrol on a degree course to study Ancient History and Egyptology. I was happy that my mum and I were so alike. Throughout her education, she also learned to speak Farsi or Persian as well as having learnt English and able to speak Hindi, Urdu, and Punjabi.

Her parents did not have a son which made a big impact cultrually/socially. If you did not have a son, then life would be a lot more difficult. When I asked her at a young age, why didn't she get married in her 20s, she told me that she had decided to look after her parents/sister and adopt the role of a son. In those days, having a woman in the office was a rare sight. She was perhaps one of the earliest examples of the 'modern woman' you see today worldwide. She earned money, helped her family and enjoyed herself. Life was good for her. Although it wouldn't remain like that. During these times, if a woman was not married past a certain age, no one was going to marry her which is something that still remains within the Asian culture/community. It was also the time when looking for a husband/wife was done via arranged marriage. An offer had come from my dads family who lived quite a distance away. My Dad at the time being 50 and she was in her early 40s. They wed but I don't know when. My mum clearly knew. He was uneducated and she was the opposite. My dad had been in the UK since he was 18 so they arrived here in the early 80s.

She described times as tough. My dad in all fairness is not a good man. He may think he is but there is always an alterior motive to what he does. He loved to drink which is forbidden in the religion of Islam. She told me that it was the first time she'd ever seen a drunk person and was so scared, she locked the bedroom door and would not come out. He'd be shouting his head off saying  "I'm going to die this way". As she had been independent for most of her life, she wanted to earn some money since my father did not really work due to back problems. He stopped her. He would not let her as to him, it would make it seem like he was unable to look after her. Basically, he'd be ashamed that she would become the main earner. He beat her and tried his best to 'domesticate' her but she would never give up. On the 26th November 1986, I was born. She always wanted a son. Her mother died a year before and mum was upset that she could not see me but nonetheless, I guess I was her pride and joy.

A bond that can never be broken.

I remember when I was roughly 4/5, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I heard a scream and looked to my left. There I saw my father beating her. Blood running down her face. She said "Shiraz! Call the police!" but my father said "Just watch the TV!". I ended up turning my head and watched cartoons. If I could go back in time and change events, I would call the police. Again, one of the regrets I have in my life. She tried so hard to make things easier for me. We lived at first in a flat in Pentwyn. I can't remember where my mum and dad stayed before I was born. We then moved into Canton at 4 South Morgan Place which again was another one bedroom flat. All my childhood memories are there, good and bad. She used to dress me in really nice clothes even though we didn't have much money. What annoyed me and I did tell her that she should treat herself and buy herself some nice pair of shoes or clothes but she always put me before herself. That was the kind of mother she was.

Causing trouble for my mum as always

It was difficult for her to see me not have a good childhood. I guess it'd be like that for any mother. Walking to places such a theme parks was impossible so she decided to do some creche work and gained the necessary qualifications. She worked for Barnardos, Riverside Warehouse and Riverside Community Centre until she saved enough money to buy a car and driving lessons for it. I remember her leaving me once in the flat. I was so upset that I didn't want her to go but she said she'd be back in an hour. I looked out the window as she drove off. She must have had a few lessons. But unfortunately she was not able to get a driving licence. My father took the car without her permission and gave it in part-exchange. That is the type of man he is. I also remember my mum telling me that her jewelry was gone. Long after, I was helping my mum clean my father's room. I noticed something hidden underneath the carpets and told my mum. It was her jewelry. I have my reasons as to why I don't get along with him to which I'll leave for another time but he did everything in his power to stop her from being independent. He also forced her to give up the life insurance policy and stated that if she didn't, he'd give her a divorce. On that note, I must have been 7ish and walking down Cowbridge Road, Canton with my mum going to school. I distinctly remember asking her why didn't she get a divorce. If she did, she'd be happy and we could be happy together. But her reply was that she wanted me to grow up in a household with both parents present. She said that it wasn't nice to have seperated parents and sometimes children are often affected by it. Mum didn't always want to live in a flat. She wanted a nice home. My parents sold the flat and we lived in Riverside for a few months. It was there where I began to play in the streets. I'd never done so before. It was fun. It was also there were I met some good childhood friends that I still see today. After sturggling, we moved into a newly built property but the area at first seemed nice but turned out to be terrible. There were either pensioners/old retired folk or those on benefits and pretty much 'scum of society'.

When the time came to go into high school, my mum sent me to some private schools. I had to do some tests and depending on the results, I'd get in or not. She was happy that I had recieved offers. I'd been to a number of private schools. All the kids wore blazers and were mainly from upper class families. I felt odd there. I told her I didn't want to go there and I wanted to go where my friends were. She still enrolled to to a Catholic school despite us being Muslim but again, I did not fit in. I look back now and wish that I'd accepted those offers made from private schools. Had I done so, life may have been different.

She never caused trouble for anyone. She wasn't the type of person to do that. All my friends who visited the house found her warm and kind. She loved celebrating my birthdays. It was a really big day for her. But growing up, on big days such as that, there would always be a big argument. At 13 years of age, I decided to stop celebrating my birthday. I decided in fact to not celebrate anything. The environment I grew up in was very tense. Even when I turned 18, she wanted to hire out a venue and call people from all over to celebrate but I said no. The same for when I turned 21. But last year I turned 25. It was just the both of us as my father was in Pakistan. So I asked her,

"Mum, what do you want to do on my birthday? Shall I get cake?"

She looked at me, smiled and replied

"Ok. Let's eat cake"

I walked down to ASDA and bought a small chocolate cake. We sat down, spent some quality time together and ate it. We always said that we'd be together and fight whatever comes our way. Just the two of us and no one else, supporting each other. Before that, it was her birthday. She always used to come up to me and say

"Do you know what day today is?"

 And I always answered back saying

"No. Not really?"

But I knew. My gym membership at the athletic stadium was 10 10 82 so how could I forget. I'd always pop out then and buy her a card and some chocolates. Then she used to get annoyed with me as I always teased her for being fat and saying she should live a healthier lifestyle yet I bought her chocolates. Last year however, it was a friend's wedding. I walked past the gudwara in Riverside and saw another friend. They asked me to come but I informed them that I'd rather spend the day with my mum. In her card, I put £10. When I handed it to her, she smiled and hugged me. I didn't have much money so it was all I could do but she was happy and I would do anything to see her smile again.

Even though we had a strong bond, I was not the best son. I had and still have my own problems fighting with depression. As a child, it was apparent that I required some sort of anger management as I was getting out of hand but my mother didn't want me to have a 'record'. I have made huge mistakes in the past. Terrible ones. I have done things that not many people would imagine doing. Being involved in gangs and associating myself with other troubled youths is what happened in my later years of high school despite being in the top classes of the year throughout most of it. Even if it were raining heavily, we would be out doing all sorts of things. It got to a stage where in the end, I decided I could not see a future for myself if I carried on this way. It changed when one of the youths I was with smashed a car window to steal something. Police were informed and everybody ran. We hid in someones garden and at that point it hit me. I left, went home, told my mother and father what had happened and vowed I wouldn't hang with crowds like that again. I spent the next few years in solitude. No one had heard from me, and I did not socialise with any other groups. It was a bit extreme. On top of that, I had depression. All I did was play video games.That worried her a little. Taking this measure of solitude still affects me to this very day. I'm not socialble. I don't go out and do things which others of my age enjoy. To put it in another way, I don't have a 'normal' life. I've never been in a relationship and I often find it tiring when I'm with a large crowd of people. I do not drink or smoke which is something my mother was always pleased with. She'd used to say

"Apart from your temper, you're as good as gold"

I spent most of my university days either at uni or working. I chose to commute as the institution I was enrolled at was 40 miles away. The decision was based on the fact that I did not want to get into any debt. It was a wise move. I used to get up at 6am, get ready and catch the bus at 7:35am, stay there till lectures finished at 5pm somedays and then head to work as soon as I got home for a quick snack till 3am the next morning; I knew early on the life was not easy but at least I was not a burden on anyone as I was able to buy things I wanted. My regret from this is that I never really bought her anything. She did so much for me yet I became a bit too selfish.

On 10th June 2010, I suffered a horrific knee injury. One that left me severely disabled. I tore my ACL, MCL, PCL, Medial Meniscus and cartilage of my right knee whilst playing football near my university at the time. I was unable to walk. My mother stood by me the whole time. At one stage, I started to suffer horrific pains. It was pain that I can't quite describe. I was screaming every minute for a period of three days. She asked me that we should go to the hospital but I stated that it must be part of the injury and we should wait. I was so bad during the whole time that I was unable to even get out of bed and go to the toilet to urinate. I'd have to pee in a empty milk bottle. Since I already had depression, I got even worse. I wanted to kill myself. From being super fit and healthy with 12.5 stone of lean muscle to being bed ridden was a traumatic experience for me. She helped me pull through. I was so down that I was unsure of whether I wanted to enrol on a postgraduate course that we discussed about. But in the end, after two operations and a lot of frustration, I learned to walk again with encouragement from my mum. It turned out that the pain I was sufferering in those three days was scepticemia and I was close to death since it started to spread through my whole body. Only one friend of mine saw me in that state and was in the hospital with me. He came down from London for the weekend to hang out but I guess we didn't plan to be in the hospital on a saturday night. There were another two who saw me bed-ridden as well. I also remember asking the doctor about my leg before the operation. I asked him whether will it'll be ok and that what will happen to my leg. He told me that there was a chance they'd have to amputate it. I was shocked. I looked at my mum and cried. She told me not to worry but I knew she was just as upset as I was. She worried about me too much. I slept over a friends house once when I was 13 and she rang after I'd been out of the house for two hours asking if I was ok and that was I missing her.

What has been eating away my heart most of all is the sunday prior to her passing. I was at home, teasing her as I did. Seeing her unwell sometimes made me frustrated. I didn't like seeing her cough all the time. So then I got a big angry. I had arranged to play football with some friends and rang my father to come home as I didn't want to leave her on her own. I had no idea that whilst I was at the park, she had a panic attack and was rushed to hospital immedietely. I came home and no one was around. When my father arived, he started crying. I knew something was wrong and I rushed down to the hospital straight away. I saw her and I told her how sorry I was. She forgave me like always. I spent some time with her and I did not want to leave but she told me I should go home and come back the next morning. That night, I was unable to sleep. At around 2:30-3am, I had bad chest pains. It was as if something was pulling my heart from my body. When I arrived at the hospital the next morning, she was in critical care. The nurses told me that at around 2:30-3am, her condition had worsened. I spent most of the day with her and holding her hand. She was on a breathing machine but able to communicate by writing on a pad. Once they took the mask off, she was coughing. It meant that she was unable to eat or drink water. I went in again on tuesday but by wednesday, I was so run down that I was ill. I'd caught a cold and I could not visit her as I'd jepardise everyone else's health in the unit. I went back on thursday and saw her asleep. I thought to myself that I'm glad she's getting some rest. Although, that was not the case. As she was unable to get enough oxygen into her system, her heart was pumping twice as fast. If the heart is unable to pump oxygenated blood throughout the body then the other organs will be affected such as the kidneys.

I asked an old classmate of mine who is now a doctor to check up on her. At one point we were caught looking at her papers but I informed the nurse that I had put him upto it and not to give him a disiplinary. I'd bought her a card and wrote this message inside hoping that she'd be able to read it. I wrote

"Mum, I need you to be strong. You can beat this. I know you can. I love you. I always have and I always will. You are all that is good in my life. My raison d'etre is so that I can fulfil your dreams whilst you're alive. I know I've made mistake. I know I;ve disapointed you at times. I know I never fulfiled my true potential but you were always there for me. Please get better so that you can come home. Who am I going to play, annoy for fun and joke around with. That's why I need you. I still need you right now. There are so many people who want you to get better. I told you so many times not to do things which you were incapable of doing but you still did them. I won't be able to live if you're gone. You have to remember OUR PROMISE. You can't break it. You've been getting better slowly so you need to fight this. Hopefully everything will be fine inshallah. I've promised you that I will become the son and man you wanted me to become. That I will be successful, get married and have kids. You need to be around so that you can see your grandkids and spoil them. So stay with me ok, I'm not ready for you to go."

 But she was so doped up that she didn't know what was happening around her. We spoke to the doctor after he called for us and he said that she has no chance of getting through this. My heart sank. I couldn't quite process it. I wasn't a praying man but I started praying from that day hoping that a miracle would happen. It did not. On the 29th April, a sunday, I was looking through all my baby albums and childhood photos. At one point, my heart sank again. I felt my chest being extremely heavy. My mobile started ringing and I answered. It was the nurse looking after her that day. Her name was Nicci. She told me I had to come down straight away. I put on my clothes and rushed to the hospital as quickly as I could. Looking at the monitor, her stats were dropping. Blood pressure kept falling. Once it got past 50, her hands were cold. I was crying but I kept talking to her till there were no signals being recieved. It was 11:20. Since then, I've been lost. My mother was the one who would always point me in the right direction. No one will now care if I've eaten. No one will now be worried about me as she was. No one can replace her.

On sunday evening/early hours of monday morning, I got into an argument with my father. He wanted to smoke in the house. I've always been against smoking. We've had many arguments regarding this. He'd always say "I don't give two fucks" when I'd tell him that there were other people living in the house and that he should take our views and health into consideration, especially since my mother had lung disease. When I'd left for Stockholm, my mother told me that he was smoking in the house. I was very annoyed and angered but said nothing. All of his friends were telling me that it's his house and he can do whatever he wants but I had my counter-arguments. It's what I've been trained to do as a lawyer. I told them that have they ever seen someone gasping for air like how my mother was gasping to survive during her final days. They remained quiet. I then told them that you may think it's fine now but when the time comes and you have been diagnosed with lung cancer or something which is caused by smoking, you will be regretting it. I left the house at 1am on that monday. It was pouring with rain. I walked the streets and got soaked. I did not want to go back to that house so I sat down in Cardiff Bay and wished my mother was still around and that my father should have been the one to have died. I would have preferred it that way. Even though I say/write that, my mum would say that the man is still my father but to me, my father and mother died that day.