Baba Jani, Finding Solace, Grief, Letters, Moments of life, Observations

An Open Letter From A Grieving Daughter About How It Is Like To Lose A Father & About Why I Don’t Flaunt My Religious Beliefs

Dear all those who know that I never got to grieve my father’s death properly & those who are making it excruciatingly difficult for me to find peace,

I did not plan to ever post this but you know the thing about losing a loved one that too a parent is that at some point you become heartless and you stop caring about your words hurting anyone that unintentionally say something that they shouldn’t say to someone who has lost a loved one.

I usually do not post much about my feelings regarding losing my father on Facebook just because every time I have done it, I have gotten suggestions to turn to Allah, or do good deeds in the name of my father, or the worst so far: think about those who have lost both parents. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO YOURSELF? ARE YOU EVEN IN YOUR RIGHT MIND TO COMPARE GRIEF/TRAGEDY AS GIGANTIC AS LOSING A PARENT?

*By all means, you may hate me for what I am about to say* Those who say all of this have both parents alive so you don’t know how it is to lose a parent that too a father especially when you are a girl. Let me put myself in immeasurable torture, just so next time I post anything about my father, you might be careful at what kind of comments you leave on that post. So here’s me breaking it down for you how exactly it is to lose a father.

To lose a father for a daughter is to lose a shadow from her head, on a scorching sunny day, in a desert that not only provided her shelter but protection too. It’s like standing on burning sand, naked with hungry vultures (read: men) all set to rip chunks off your body. It’s like being a ship in storm without a captain, without safety measures. It’s like having pieces of you, ripped off you, slow and steadily, every single moment that passes. It’s like having to lose every single right to be happy again. It’s like losing the very hand that you always held when you felt scared. It’s like losing fingers that wiped off your tears way before they even appeared in your eyes. It’s like losing those arms that embraced you in moments of fear. It’s like losing that pat on your shoulder saying, “I have full faith in you and I know you can do this!”. It’s like being left at a dark place where there is no light, no way out. It’s like being hopeless lost in chaos where every second makes you yearn for your father. Its killing yourself time and time again just because you are responsible for the lives your father took care of.

Its putting in immeasurable amount of efforts to pull yourself up when you are so tired & completely broken from the inside. It’s forcing yourself to sport a big fake smile on your face just for your family and just so the world wouldn’t give you a “get over it already!”. Yet you do it even if you are shit scared to your very bones to smile, to be happy again. Its pulling up a brave face for your family every single day when deep down you’re shit scared of about a million things going wrong/falling apart.

Now I am going to question you something. Will Allah like you turning to Him in dark without anyone know or will He like you flaunting how many namaz you offer; what exactly you do to please Him?

Just because I don’t flaunt my religious beliefs and I am a person who believes that whatever is between Allah and a person should remain between them. Who gave you the right to judge me or anyone or tell me or them to be religious just because you don’t see me or them practicing their religious beliefs openly. Even our Holy Prophet said that no one is superior to anyone unless they are superior in the eyes of Allah. How can you even have the audacity to question someone’s believe? Hate me all you want for saying this, but as far as I know my religion, we have examples where prophets, sahabas and other people have submitted themselves to Allah in the dark without anyone knowing about them being up all night and praying to Allah. Tell me how can you question me if I pray or not? If I do good deeds or not?


A grieving daughter struggling with the eternal loss of her beloved father.

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