Mar 23, 2016
God? Are you Watching?
In the dream a stranger asks me if I could 'please' come to the funeral, 'there aren't enough people' he explained.
The rain fell heavily and I courteously agreed to attend,
not knowing him or the deceased and not caring to ask.
In a dark, dim place resembling an old dusty church I sat on a wooden chair. The very few mourners were scattered so far apart that none saw the other's face
No one moved or spoke, I thought about how people attended births and deaths;
the beginning and the end
the ones who attended the beginning were not necessarily the ones who attended the end.
the ones who attended the beginning were usually happy, the ones at the end usually sad.
in the beginning they looked on with hope and expectation and said things like:
"Oh, look at those long graceful fingers, a pianist is born!"
in the end; they mumbled an old exhausted sentiment exaggerating what good people they were.
I thought about my life, the endless corridor I pursued, until fewer and fewer windows began to appear and much fewer doors.
I thought about the man who told me he loved me then married my friend.
I thought about the sadist who married me just because he didn't love me, how he enjoyed turning me into a disposable shrunken shriveled fruit.
I thought about my father calling me stupid and laughing his condescending pitiful demeaning laugh while I ran like a blindfolded racehorse, tired and panting, earning those straight As, winning scholarships and all those worthless shiny trophies and certificates.
I though about my mother who told me I was ugly and stressed again and again that women were not as clean or pure as men.
I thought about my therapist who told me that he did care about me but it was I who could not receive.
I thought about my child, whose flesh tore from my flesh, whose soul tore from my soul, like a drop of mercury that soundlessly broke into perfect identical segments.
I thought about the fickle male God the righteous male preacher told me I should always be grateful to.
Do you see how grateful I am God? Can you see my gratitude?
God? Are you watching?
Posted by Fatima Matar at 23.3.16