Jharoka

My mother had a unique meethi awaaz (sweet voice). It goes beyond the sound itself as it was a blend of her ever-smiling face, gentle tone, soft-spokenness, sincerity, politeness, loving personality and manner of speaking, regardless of the circumstance. In South Asian cultures, having a meethi awaaz is considered a high virtue and sign of a humble, cultured and soft-hearted person – all being true for my mom.

One way she expressed her meethas (sweetness) was the way she called on those dear to her as meri jaan (literal meaning is “my life/soul”). Meri jaan infers a soul-to-soul connection. When a mother calls her child meri jaan, she is essentially saying that her own heart beats outside of her body. In every conversation, my mom would greet me with meri jaan and end each conversation with apna bohat khayal rakhna, meri jaan (take good care of yourself, my soul/life). There is no one who can say those words with the unconditional love that came with them. I miss her so much it hurts.

On this anniversary of her passing, I penned the poem below as a dedication to meri jaan, my Ammi.

The walls still echo with a sound so sweet,

A name you called me, tender and complete.

Not just a label, but a prayer you’d spin,

To keep the cold out and the warmth within.

Meri Jaan, you’d say, and the world grew still,

A soft command, a testament of will.

You breathed your spirit into every word,

The sweetest sound that I’ve ever heard.

Three years of silence, yet I hear it plain,

Like morning sunlight through a windowpane.

I carry that title like a scared spark —

Your life within me, glowing in the dark.

Though you have found your rest in gardens afar,

I remain the light of your most constant star.

I live to honor what you gave to me:

Your life, your soul, your Jaan eternally.

If you have made it to this post / page, I would be most appreciative if you could say a prayer or recite Fatiha for my beloved mother. Thank you.