June 2020
Madiha
June 8: 'Petite Weddings' Signal Nuptial Future Amid COVID-19. (WUWM Milwaukee's NPR)
There's an old Hollywood proverb that goes, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans."
Perhaps the most stressful plan any couple can make is a wedding. But there aren't many laughs at the wedding chapel these days, as coronavirus guidelines have led many couples to postpone or cancel in-person gatherings.
I stole a look at an article on my computer that I probably should not have been looking at while sitting in the residents room with Jake, the intern on service with me, answering a page just a few feet away. Yet, what was I to do? Despite Omar still being in the ER downstairs where I left him that morning, and not even having a phone to call Abu yet, I couldn't stop that smile from creeping on my face, under my mask.
Thank God for the masks. I had kept thinking to myself all morning.
In fact, that was all I would say about being in love with a man who loves you back with equal devotion. Whose every touch, every word in that low, resonant voice, sent shivers down your spine. Who looked at you like you're the only person in the world for him, and made you feel like no obstacle was too high or adversity too formidable, as long as you had each other.
It is an incredibly freeing and unearthly, almost heavenly, feeling. And it made you want to soar without limits, because you knew that he will always be your safety net. Though, admittedly that may lead you to do somethings that you later regret, like yelling at a cop.
But most of all it made you randomly think of him, relaxing the muscles of your cheeks and widening the veins, increasing the blood flow, all resulting in uncontrollable blushing - in the middle of rounds, while putting in patients' order, when talking to an attending or another colleague.
I sighed silently. I loved being in love with Omar.
Suddenly, a women's voice spoke over my shoulder. "Planning a wedding?"
Startled, I looked up at my attending. "Dr Stuart. Oh hi."
"Wedding?" Jake almost skipped over to me. "Are you and Omar finally getting married?"
"Yes..." Jumping the gun, I know but I was at loss for words. Us being married just felt so right, like we had always been destined to be together. A fact that Jake was already touting to Dr Stuart.
"I always knew these two would end up together. You should have seen the way he said "Madi is mine' way back during our ICU rotation, 10 months ago."
In the somewhat embarrassing revelation of what happened during our ICU rotation, including some incidents I wasn't even privy of, as my attending giggled and congratulated me I was so very, very grateful again for the masks. In the midst of the jokes, though, my pager buzzed.
Kylie had an update about Omar.
"I'd love to stay and chat about the wedding, but Omar is getting discharged from the ER-"
The mood in that room instantly changed. "What do you mean - discharge from the ER?" Dr Stuart asked.
Panic flitted across Jake's face, "Is Omar ok?"
"He is, now..." I narrated the rest of that tale. And it was a good thing that I did. It was even better that I was on call with an attending who was highly supportive of me and an intern who was quite capable of handling the service by himself for an hour. Because soon I found myself relieved of my pager and in possession of Dr Stuart's car keys.
"Go drop him home, Madi. He's probably in no condition to take a taxi. I am not even sure he'll find one in downtown at the moment."
"Yeah don't worry about the service. I got this," Jake added.
I didn't wait a moment. A string of thank yous trailing after me, I was out of that residents room and on my way to the ER. Though, I could never have imagined the scene that was waiting for me in ER Room 106.
Omar
My pain long forgotten, courtesy of meds and the calls I had received that morning, I was pacing the room trying to stay as calm as I could but failing miserably.
"No, no Sehr, I am not going back home," I insisted to my sister on the phone. "I have had enough of them, and their attitude. Besides I have to meet Madi's parents soon, and I am not messing that up. After everything Ami and Abu have put me and her through, I don't owe them anything."
"Omar I get your anger, I really do. But this is Abu we're talking about. The doctors think his lungs are already quite damaged and he may need a BiPap machine to help him breathe."
"So tell Ami to order one."
"She did, there's nothing available in the market."
The sound of the door opening and closing distracted me but only for a moment. Like a sign sent from heaven, Madi stood there silently, and the promise I had made to her father - I will stand between my parents and her - resonated within me. I couldn't put our future on stake for a man who had called her a 'gold digging doctor' and her family 'jaahil', or falsely accused her uncle of stealing when his own nephew was the likely culprit.
"I have to go, Sehr. Call Shadab bhai and tell him to arrange for a BiPap."
Before I could hang up, Sehr blurted out, "You think I haven't called him? He's not picking up my phone, or Saima's." Anger laced her usual calm voice for the first time since she had called. Maybe it was justified, maybe not. But watching Madi look at me curiously, the words of her father from this morning and those of my parents from months ago, repeated themselves in my mind driving me to make the only conclusion I could think of, however unreasonable.
"Not my problem," I replied, and hung up.
"What was that all about?" Madi asked.
"Nothing, ignore it. Are you done with rounds?"
"Yes, and Dr Stuart let me borrow her car so I can drop you home."
Home. The apartment with walls and a roof, that was about to get a soul too. Witness the love it so patiently waited for.
"Come on then," I grabbed the bag of pain meds and bandages Kylie had handed to me, enough for the next few days. "I have something important to tell you." I grinned under my mask.
Yet, the long-awaited news barely seemed to register when she asked me to explain wheat she had overheard me saying on the phone. I did, reluctantly. Unlike me, her magnanimous heart did not let her reach the same conclusion I had.
Madiha
"Omar, you have to go to Pakistan."
"No Madi. My mind is made up. You are the most important person in my life, and I promised your dad that I would cut off all ties with my family because of the way they treated you and your family. And I am not going back on that promise..."
He gazed at me again when we stopped at a red light. Reaching across he brushed my hair off my shoulders, so tenderly I was tempted to just agree with him and head straight to my parents.
"I need you," he continued, his words deliberate and spoken in that profound, earnest tone that never failed to make my heart race. "More than I have ever needed anyone else. Even more than my own family. I can't jeopardize your father going back on his words because I ran back to my parents the minute they called for me."
But I couldn't bring myself to agree. How could I when I kept putting myself in his place? I could never not have responded to an urgent call by my mother, no matter how much I disagreed with her. Or say no to my pregnant sister who begged me to take care of our parents.
The light turned green, I started driving again.
"Listen, Omar. I know your parents hurt you. And I know how difficult these last few months have been for both of us. But if you don't go now, and God forbid something happens to your father, you will never be able to forgive yourself."
Or me. I wanted to add.
"If your father is not on the ventilator yet, you still have time. You know, as well as anyone else that once a patient is put on the ventilator, especially at his age and with him having high blood pressure and diabetes, his chances of coming off the ventilator are that much slimmer."
We had stopped at a red light again, and I reached out to touch his arm so he would look at me. "You may only have a small window here. Don't lose it."
"Why does everything have to be so effing complicated with us, Madi?" he sighed deeply, putting into the words my feelings exactly.
Yet, there was something I had realized last night.
"Don't you get it Omar? If Allah has destined for us to be together, no force on this earth can keep us apart. Look how far we've come despite ex-fiancés, disagreeing parents, meddling relatives, and a global pandemic."
I focused back on the road when a car honked from behind. The light had turned green again.
He silently dropped his gaze into his lap, leaving me yearning for the ability to decipher thoughts. But while he grappled with his own thoughts, I began contemplating Plan B. A notion formed—one I anticipated Omar wouldn't appreciate, yet it stood out as the most viable backup plan I could come up with.
"We could also uses Faraz's telemedicine service. The physicians that are part of his group includes desi ICU doctors who have a lot of experience working with their counterparts in South Asian countries. I could talk to him about it..."
"Absolutely not!" Omar immediately swung towards me, and grabbed my arm, as if Faraz was going to come and drag me away or something.
"No way! You are not talking to him, you are not going near him or even looking at him, and taking his name. He doesn't exist as far as you are concerned. Got it!"
He looked so adorable when he was jealous. I had to actively suppress my laughter, because I knew how dead serious he was. But he had taken the bait, and it was time to deliver the punchline.
"Ok. Then go to Pakistan. And stop worrying about us, we'll be fine. I just know it."
A few minutes later we were at the front of his building, and my pleas seemed to have sunk in. "Even if I wanted to you go, how would I take time off? I thought all resident leave was cancelled."
"It is, unless there is a family emergency."
"What about your parents?"
"I'll handle them."
He looked unconvinced but a quick search on Google Flight got me the answer I was looking for. "There is a flight out of O'Hare later tonight. Take it, Omar. You don't have much time."
Obviously frustrated, he leaned back on the seat, raking his fingers through his thick hair. I didn't envy him, the decision to go was a lot easier for an outsider than it was for him who had felt every moment of his parents betrayal in the last 4 months. But eventually, he nodded, slowly and reluctantly.
"You know what I love about you the most?" he said, a small smile gracing his lips.
I could feel the heat creep into my cheeks, making me wish I had kept my mask on. "What?" I asked him.
"Your generous heart, Madi."
There was so much I loved about him too, that words failed me in that moment. All I could mutter under my breath was, "Good, its yours anyway." That wasn't a statement meant for him to hear, it was a mere acceptance of facts for my own soul. Yet, somehow he had heard just enough.
"What did you just say?" he smirked, and leaned in.
I pushed him away. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Now get out of the car."
Instead, he reached over and took the key out of the ignition. "Not until you repeat what you said."
"No."
"Okay," he shrugged his shoulders and started to get of the car, with the car key.
"Give me the key."
"No," he replied with a straight face.
"Okay, okay fine. I just said that..." my cheeks were on fire, I reached out for my mask. Omar was faster.
"Say it without your mask on," his voice rasped, capturing me in its heated emotions till I had no choice but to whisper those words again, just a little bit louder.
"You should love my heart, its yours anyway."
We were sitting in someone else's car, outside his apartment building in plain sight of people walking in and out, and cars honking at each other. Me wearing scrubs after a hasty shower in the hospital locker room and him in day old clothes. Nothing in that moment should have been romantic. Yet, everything seemed to have stilled. The voices and street noise all drowned out.
In that stolen moment, it was just me and him and a confession that hung in the air. A simple reminder of what he meant to me, a promise of vulnerability and the trust that I had in him.
His gaze remained fixed on me as his hand sought mine. He placed the car key in my palm, and I marveled yet again how perfectly my hand fit in his. Like it was only ever meant to be held my him.
"All of me belongs to you too, Madi. Never ever forget that."
This time he actually got out of the car but leaned in through the open window again after closing the door. "Tell Uncle Ahmed, I'll be back in two weeks, maybe even earlier. But as soon as I land I am taking you to a Qazi and making you my wife."
His wife. There was wide grin again on my face, impossible to hide now. "Okay."
"And one more thing - you look so beautiful when you blush." He chuckled, because of course those facial veins widened even more at his words, making me blush uncontrollably.
I quickly put my mask on, "Good bye, Omar. Go home now." I pretended to roll my eyes at him, instead we just ended up laughing louder.
He was still standing outside the door to his building shaking his head with a big smile on his face, when I saw him in my rearview mirror as I drove away.
"Come back to me quickly," I said out loud, just before turning the corner and losing sight of him.
*******
"He had to go to Pakistan, to his parents," I told my parents that evening, when I visited them. A visit that coincided with that of Maliha and Hasan.
I had debated coming up with a more palatable excuse, but then decided against it. What was the point of lying? They needed to accept him wholly and without conditions the way I had.
"Kya?" my mother yelped. "Abhi shaadi ki baat hoi hai aur foran hi maa baap ke pass bhag gaya hai woh." (What? We just started talking about the wedding and he has already run away to his parents)
"He didn't have a choice Ami. His father is very ill with COVID."
"Phir bhi, abhi tou woh daawe kar raha tha ke apne parents se koi rishta nahi rakhe ga." She turned towards my father, "Ahmed, hum is larke per kiss tarha trust kar sakte hain?" (Still, he was just claiming that he would not keep a relationship with his parents)(Ahmed, how can we trust this boy?)
Maliha, who seemed to have developed another pair of brains ever since getting married, spoke up before Abu ever could. "Ami, look at his history. He has never given Madi a reason to doubt him then why would he now when he has a legitimate reason to go to Pakistan."
"I am with Maliha on this, Aunty. If Madi can trust him, so should we."
That was Hasan, Faraz's younger brother. An ally I never even knew I had. Yet, here he was standing by his wife and taking words straight out of my mouth. How one brother could be so different from another, always amazed me.
"Exactly Ami," Maliha continued, "Faraz bhai turned out to be untrustworthy, Omar bhai is the exact opposite of him."
Faraz and untrustworthy? I mean yes, he was. But did Maliha know something I didn't? That question was answered soon by Moin.
"Don't even take Faraz bhai's name. I can't believe he left that protest without even looking for Madi," my younger brother hmphed.
"Faraz was at the protest?" That was news to me.
"Yes," Hasan answered. "He had gone to show his support, though I'll be the first to admit that it was more an attempt to look like he was on the right side of history. If you see the make up of our company's workforce, its pretty clear he only hires those from ivy league universities - the majority of whom are White and Asian. He shoots me down every time I try to point out the lack of diversity in our company."
Apparently, Abu had asked him to look for me when news of skirmishes started to come out from the protest and my family couldn't contact me. Instead, he refused. Saying it was too dangerous and he needed to get out asap.
"Sorry Hasan, but your brother is quite the phony jerk and a coward," I couldn't help saying to my brother-in-law who just laughed it off.
"Don't I know it! Mama and Baba were pissed."
Well, good for me. I smiled to myself, thinking how my real hero had not just stayed with me but put himself between me and a crazy cop that fired at us.
*******
Dinner was outside, in my parent's front yard. Just like we had done every time the whole family had gathered. A requirement of the times, done so that we could take of our masks and eat in peace without worrying about inevitably passing on COVID to each other.
Omar and his trip to Pakistan was an accepted as an undisputed necessity after the conversation earlier that evening. Even Ami seemed to have forgotten her objections as she did what she did best: Serve delicious home cooked meals to her children and insist that we stuff our faces till we couldn't eat another bite. Never mind that we were all adults, to her we would always be kids.
Abu had stayed largely quiet. I soon found out why.
"Madiha beti," he grabbed my arm just as I was getting ready to leave.
"Ji Abu."
"You said Omar's father was having trouble breathing and may need a BiPap machine?"
"Yes. His sister said they can't seem to find any in Karachi."
"I uh...might have a way to get them that," he replied. His reluctance not making sense till he told me how he would be able to arrange for a BiPap machine in Pakistan while sitting in the US.
"Naeem bhai started working for a medical equipment company just this week."
*******
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