Why is it that we have to wait so much for things to happen? It seems that in the past forty-five years of my life, most of my waking hours have been spent in waiting. Waiting to grow up. Waiting for something exciting and worthwhile to happen. Waiting to get married. And then waiting for my husband to come home. Waiting for my kids to be born, so I could hold them in my arms and love them. Then waiting for them to grow up and become independent. Waiting for them to come home and praying for them when they're out in the world on their own. Waiting for “the one” rishta for my daughter and when it happened, waiting for my son-in-law to to give his exams and come to us. Still waiting!
My husband though still holds the record for making me wait the most. I had to wait three years before we finally got married! He made me wait for him everyday! And in every possible place! I waited for him outside various offices, bus stops, shops, houses, hospitals...you name it and I've waited there!
The duration of the waiting varies. Mostly its hours, not minutes that I have to wait for him. Weather doesn't deter him in keeping me waiting, though it is easier for me to wait in the winter. Most of my waiting has been, and still is done when I am waiting for him in the car. Three hours sitting in the car waiting for my husband! Yeah. Done that and on more than one occasion too. How do I while away the time, you might ask. Well, I use the time to make my things-to-do lists, my shopping lists. Then as I still had time on my hands, I made making lists into an art form! I categorized my lists! I made lists for each and every child. I made itemized grocery lists. I made lists of jobs to be done before each Eid, wedding, exams, visitors, hospital stays, births of children, trips...the list is never ending.
I went through a rebellious period too, I might add, when I refused to wait for him. I told him I'd wait ten minutes and then I'd go home, if I was waiting in the car. I used to wait for the stipulated ten minutes...then ten more...and then ten more...and then one day I moved over to the driver's seat, turned the key in the ignition, and made my way home! You should've seen his face when he got back! But he became wise after this and removed the keys the next time he told me to wait in the car.
My reaction to this was that I waited for some time (usually half to three quarters of an hour), and then locked the car and made my own way home! (fortunately we live in a one-horse town where everything is minutes away). But mind you, this only happened once and it was summer and stifling hot that led me to take this extreme step!
As I have grown older (and hopefully wiser), I have tried to utilize me waiting time more effectively. I started keeping a book in my handbag to while away the long wait, but I could only do that in the daylight. I started people watching but that was embarrassing, as in such a small place every passer-by was an acquaintance and they were going about their way while I was sitting there waiting, hour after hour! I could see the bewilderment on their faces. Why is she here? Is she being punished for something? Or she's some kind of freak who gets her kicks from watching people go for shopping and then come back? Why is she staring at our shopping bags? What a weirdo! A psycho case!
Now when I'm even more older and getting senile...I have started doing what I should have done when I first got stuck in the “waiting mode”. I Pray. I say Nafals. I recite the different Quranic Duas. I say the Darood-Shareef. And you know when I'm praying, I'm no longer aware of the passing of time! Its like my waiting turns fast forward! I sit and think of all the people who've asked me to pray for them, their monetary problems, illnesses, rishtaas, children's education, family feuds and people who I know are going through rough patches in their lives. I just sit there waiting and praying.
They say good things come to those who wait. And maybe that's why I still am. Waiting.
Note by the owner of this piece of cyber-luncay: As you've prolly figured out by now, the above was not written by yours truly. No, no, no. This is not a forty something wannabe public ignoramus who blogs under the false identity of a charming, young woman like me. Any guesses as to who it is? Lemme know. xD
