Dear Diary…

Dear Diary,

Today I am mustering all my strength to write. My day, just like my life was a mess. There were moments when tears threatened to well out and lingered close to the brim. It amazes me now how I managed to keep them in control. I’ve got to let it all out now.

It started with the usual; breakfast, changing Hassan’s wet sheets, dressing him up, dropping him off at Ammi’s place and finally office!

I had a hard time finishing all the piled up work that had littered my desk. After the tedious day, when I reached Ammi’s place to pick Hassan, I decided to stop for a while and stretch my legs a bit. I walked through the garden and into the house and was struck by what I saw. The kids were playing hide and seek and Hassan, my 12-year-old, was dragging behind them trying to be a part of the game. The kids, probably used to his chasing them, didn’t consider him a hindrance. One of the kids, while trying to jump over him, tripped over Hassan. My baby who was already exasperated by not getting the attention and dragging himself all around the room started wailing. They started mocking him. They booed at him, called him a cry-baby. Hassan in the mean time had spotted me out. I was standing there, dumbstruck; unable to help my kid. The initial outburst of his temper magnified into fireworks and he began to wail louder than ever.

I drove Hassan home, trying my best to calm him down. Thinking and worrying about Hassan, my head felt like it would burst any second and Hassan’s cries weren’t helping the situation much. When we reached home, I had to carry him to his room. When sleep finally embraced him, I let go of the dam of tears I was holding back. And here I am, a paralyzed mother, writing about my son’s disability, while the world laughs at it…

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

©2012.Habiba Danyal.

This is a fictional piece, in response to Trifecta’s Week 34 challenge. This week’s word prompt is:

1: a device for producing a striking display by the combustion of explosive or flammable compositions
2: plural a display of fireworks
3: plural
     a : display of temper or intense conflict
     b : a spectacular display <the fireworks of autumn leaves>


32 thoughts on “Dear Diary…

  1. That was so moving. I could feel for that mother and her anguish at her child’s plight. Well done!
    And thanks for the pingback to my effort.:)

  2. As a parent, I was touched by this piece. It is so incredibly difficult to watch your child suffer at the hands of his peers. You’ve done a great job capturing those emotions. Hope to see you back again soon.

  3. Strong write, full of compassion and frustration. I teach school, and have students like Hassan. All children deserve kind laughter WITH their peers. It saddens me when children mock one another on any level.

  4. habeeba, I totally love what you write! this one is really good too 🙂 keep writing such great stuff! 🙂

      1. my pleasure dear 🙂 i dont always comment, but i read almost all your posts and really enjoy reading them too 🙂

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