Sometimes when I am happy, I forget to write; I haven’t written in two months. Come to think of it, a lot of my happiness comes from being in love. I’ve never tried to bury my i love yous in the fear of overusing it, or saying it so much so often that it ends up losing its meaning. They exist in abundance. Like freckles on my breasts. Like flowers in spring. I am full of them. You see, every hiccup is an i love you waiting to storm out of my mouth.

Speaking of love, I saw Maa cry on Eid. Two thousand miles away from her, I desperately wished for teleportation to be real. For a second. Just for once, I swear. The voices in her house have been too loud for twelve years now with all the empty corners that Abba left behind. Everytime Maa eats, her hiccups don’t stop. I think it’s all the i love yous that didn’t find a way out of her body.

So I have learnt better now to not push them back. I say it everyday. Too much. Too often. To my siblings, my best friend, my partner, and specifically, most certainly, to Maa. And even though her i love yous are stranded somewhere inside of her, with no exits, I want mine to run to her, every waking day of her life. Abba’s empty spaces will never go away, but I can make them smaller. I can only try. One i love you at a time.

Saheen Rahman

Saheen is a writer and a Communication student currently pursuing her Postgraduate degree. She finds beauty in monotony and in run-of-the-mill things. She wants her work to be a voice of rebellion, a sword for change, a lifeboat to save someone else from drowning. Strongly believes that Art is in everything, big and small, we only need the unavoidable and insatiable hunger to find it