Our different interpretations of what being Muslim means caused a rift between us. Now, I am learning to understand her better
I’ve stopped arguing with my mum this year. I’ve been trying to get her to see my side for more than two decades. Almost every conversation we used to have would end with my insides twisted up like a pretzel. We would argue about everything, from religion to patriarchy and family. No conversation was safe.
I’ve never had cause to doubt my mother’s love. Maybe that’s why it got so bad, and why Mum bore the brunt of my frustrations; I knew she wasn’t going to leave me. But now in her 70s, weak from having battled cancer, and left with hearing loss, I’m acutely aware that we’re running out of time. We’ve been standing at the opposite sides of a bridge, our arms outstretched, not knowing how to get to each other for too long.
Saima Mir is a journalist, writer and author of the novel The Khan
