{"id":821,"date":"2021-06-14T10:23:19","date_gmt":"2021-06-14T10:23:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/?p=821"},"modified":"2021-06-14T10:23:21","modified_gmt":"2021-06-14T10:23:21","slug":"she-is-very-happy-and-bright","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/she-is-very-happy-and-bright\/","title":{"rendered":"She is very happy and bright"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p><strong><em>Illustrations by Rashmy<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-style-default\"><p>When I tell the story of my birth, I have to say that I was born to a worthless person. As far as I can remember, I know my mother has been wandering for divorce since the same year I was born. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p>All I understand now when I recount is, how good it is that my mother got divorced. Because I see my mother differently now. I see her now as never before. The image of my mommy from my childhood is that of her sitting with folded legs with tears flowing down her face, as I slept. I have seen her like that many times. Many times I have slept with my eyes closed, so as not to disturb her even after waking up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-style-default\"><p>I have no memories of my father. I remember only two incidents about him. One was while I met him at the police station. Another one was when he would come home on Saturdays to pick me up. I will go with him crying. Mommy was very surprised when I told her about these two incidents and asked, &#8220;How can you remember these?&#8221; I was two years old then! I don\u2019t really know how I remember the incidents that happened at the age of two. But I remember.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-pullquote is-style-default\"><blockquote><p>When I was ten, I cried when my mommy said, &#8220;I love someone.&#8221; The thought of Mommy leaving me just made me cry immediately. Then I remembered a ruthless man like my father and was afraid. <\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-style-default\"><p>I know how many difficulties she faced in raising me as a single mother and fulfilling my desires. I have always wanted to keep my mother happy, safe, and independent. When she suddenly told me that she was in love with a person, I felt all my thoughts were shattered.<br>I will never forget that day.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p>She told me of her love only during dinner when she took me alone and booked a room in a hotel. She told me she had been waiting for a long time to tell me this. She told, \u201cYou should not misunderstand me, tell me what you seem to be saying and ask me what you seem to be asking\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-large\"><img loading=\"lazy\" width=\"724\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-01-724x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-825\" srcset=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-01-724x1024.jpg 724w, https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-01-212x300.jpg 212w, https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-01-768x1087.jpg 768w, https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-01.jpg 1080w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 724px) 100vw, 724px\" \/><figcaption>Art by Rashmy<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>She said, \u201cI love someone. But I will live together only if you agree. Because we are all going to live together\u201d<br>When she said this I did not understand the deep truth of it.<br>I asked, \u201cCan I see him? Will you let me talk to him?\u201d<br>\u201cHe now lives in Istanbul. You can talk to him on a video call if you want\u201d<br>I looked at her partner with suspicion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<h2>&#8220;Do you have a drinking habit?&#8221;<\/h2>\n\n\n\n<h2>&#8220;Will you hit my Mommy?&#8221;<\/h2>\n\n\n\n<h2>&#8220;Will you separate my Mommy from me?&#8221;<\/h2>\n\n\n\n<h2>I asked him all this.<\/h2>\n\n\n\n<p>He patiently answered all my questions. I loved him as soon as I saw him.<br>I saw honesty in him. He said he had a smoking habit before and now he had completely freed himself from that habit. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The way he told me was believable and true. He may have told me that he was not a smoker. I can&#8217;t even figure it out. But to me, I believed he wanted to be truthful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He is living in Istanbul, Turkey. He is a SriLankan and he moved to Turkey 15 years back and he is now 40 years old. I don\u2019t know why he has not returned after that to Srilanka. Where my mother met him, how she fell in love with him and how they continued for six years is still a mystery in our family. But from the stories she told me, she has only met him once abroad. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-pullquote is-style-default\"><blockquote><p>I really don\u2019t care about how she met him and why she fell in love. She is happy now. My grandmother told me that she lives a life that no one else in our family lives.<\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-large\"><img loading=\"lazy\" width=\"1024\" height=\"723\" src=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-03-1024x723.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-824\" srcset=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-03-1024x723.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-03-300x212.jpg 300w, https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-03-768x543.jpg 768w, https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/My-mom-wedding-03.jpg 1080w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><figcaption>Art by Rashmy<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p><strong><em>It was during the Covid 19 period that my mother married Risvi Nagoor. <\/em><\/strong>We could not do it together as we all expected. Covid 19 challenged our plans thrice. Our journey was interrupted every time. But my grandparents and our family friend Basheer Uncle understood the love in Mommy&#8217;s face and asked her to go to him, even if she could travel alone. I just saw Mommy&#8217;s wedding online. But I was in all of the planning for it. She dressed the way I wanted her to. I wanted to see her as an angel in a long red gown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I call her companion by name. My three-year-old brother also calls him by name. Our family and relatives do not like this. But he never interfered with our will. I talk to him about everything. I can tell him what hairstyle would suit him. When it comes to his dressing if I say, &#8220;It&#8217;s not good for you&#8221;, he mostly accepts it or shares his comments. I warn him by telling him things my Mommy doesn\u2019t like. I don\u2019t think I could just call my Mommy\u2019s phone. My brother and I call him on the phone at any time. We make jokes and laugh. We feel together even though we are miles apart. In fact, I look forward to meeting him soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-pullquote is-style-default\"><blockquote><p><strong>I think. I firmly believe. Only now has my mother found the right person for her. In her face, I see new waves of joy every day.<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Other articles by the author:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-embed is-type-wp-embed is-provider-her-stories wp-block-embed-her-stories\"><div class=\"wp-block-embed__wrapper\">\n<blockquote class=\"wp-embedded-content\" data-secret=\"zMYgOXZULG\"><a href=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/a-hajj-festival-with-strangers\/\">A Hajj Festival with strangers<\/a><\/blockquote><iframe class=\"wp-embedded-content\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts\" security=\"restricted\" style=\"position: absolute; clip: rect(1px, 1px, 1px, 1px);\" title=\"&#8220;A Hajj Festival with strangers&#8221; &#8212; Her Stories\" src=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/a-hajj-festival-with-strangers\/embed\/#?secret=zMYgOXZULG\" data-secret=\"zMYgOXZULG\" width=\"600\" height=\"338\" frameborder=\"0\" marginwidth=\"0\" marginheight=\"0\" scrolling=\"no\"><\/iframe>\n<\/div><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>About the Author:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\"><figure class=\"aligncenter\"><img src=\"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/04\/Badhri-Intro-Pictures-1-768x1024.jpeg\" alt=\"\"\/><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Diya Al Badhri<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>My name is Diya Al Badhri. I was born in Sri Lanka on July 30, 2008. We settled in India in 2012 when I was three and a half years old. We lived in Chennai till 2016. That\u2019s where I started my elementary education. My first guru was my mother who was a single mother. She and I have made numerous trips, trekking, and hiking. In 2016 I returned to Sri Lanka. I continued my studies in Colombo. Then again in 2019, the circumstances forced me to stay in a hostel in India. I returned to Sri Lanka in 2020 due to Covid -19. I am learning from the flow of such an uncertain life.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I think. I firmly believe. Only now has my mother found the right person for her. In her face, I see new waves of joy every day.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":823,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0},"categories":[35,29,6],"tags":[99,88,98],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/821"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=821"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/821\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":826,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/821\/revisions\/826"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/823"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=821"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=821"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herstories.xyz\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=821"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}