Life is always different for everyone, not one person in this world goes through the same pain, or happiness as you do. If you really think about it. It makes sense, imagine, you and your friend going through the same roller coaster, or you and everyone in the world having the same faith... I mean you would definitely have a stronger support... but there will be no challenges in life, it won't be unique. Especially when you live in a world where everyone is almost against you. Well half of the world, but who knows there are hypocrites out there too.
My daily routine had always been set to wake up, pray, and go out for a run. Probably an unusual thing for a Muslim girl to do right, especially if she is a hijabi girl. Although I've learnt to steer clear from all those obstacles and just go my way, do my own thing. Although, someone who supports me for myself is out there somewhere, and I am very much aware of it. My round was almost done, my eyes didn't leave my patient, she was in pain and yet she refused any help. "Are you sure, ma'am?" One of the nurses, which no one tends to keep track of the names said to the patient screaming absurdly.
"NO! Get me a fricken white doctor" the old lady yelled at the nurse. You may think I probably flinched at the response, but you know what, I was so used to it to the point that all my ears could register was, blah, blah, blah... the nurse felt guilt running through her spine, her eyes managed to face mines, looking apologetically. I am used to it now especially, since it's probably has happened to me a million of time, well more-so living as Muslim in London, it has happened to many of the Muslims almost all of the time. Going into med school my friends and I had already signed up for this, especially knowing we were going to working at this such hospital "I'm sorry doctor I really -
"It's no need" I smiled at her, reassuring her that it really wasn't her fault. The world is like this apparently. This means I had to go to my attending and tell him I was not able to do my duty. I stormed out of the room, annoyed by the patience constant pain. The pain that shot out of the woman's mouth, aggravated me, she wanted help, my hands had the skills given by god to help, but no that woman was too stubborn.
"Dr. Jacob" I called out. Hoping that he is not annoyed by my presence once again, which thankfully he wasn't. He looked at me in an understanding mood, I didn't have to say anything, with a soft smile he left of towards the patient.
Sighing I looked around the busy hallway, doctors ran back and forth, especially because I was training to be a surgeon. A surgeon needs to be on time, and very smart. "Aiyla!" A voiced zoomed out across the hall. To that my head whipped back to spot Zayna, my best friend running towards me. A smile finally lifted up upon my lips, it felt like a dead day but thankfully I was happy. Why? Well because Zayna running with the happiest smile on her face meant that she had good news for the girls, news that we've been wanting for ages! For the past few days the girls and I had been tryna find a good ranked hospital to work at, firstly it's good for us anyways, any doctor would want to work at a good ranked hospital, and secondly this hospital is probably the most racist hospital out there in London. A laugh escaped my lips as I watched Zayna's soft pink lips turn into a huge smile.
"Assalamualaikum" She said giving me a hug.
"Walaikuamassalam, how are you?" I raised an eyebrow, watching her panting. "Let me just finish the sentence for you, I found a hospitaaalll" My voice cheered out at the end, not realizing that almost half of the hospital could've heard.
This caused my cheeks to flush a little pinkish realizing how loud I was once Zayna started to shush her down. Zayna nodded and dragged my hand away from the crowd. We hadn't told anyone, not even their own attending or other interns, although it is advised for interns to inform any information such as that, to their attending. The reason not even one sentence could be said in public is because this hospital was a place where if you say something it will spread everywhere like the chicken pox disease, or mosquitos, you get the abbreviation.
"So! Hana, Maryam, and I we all were looking through hospitals when you had your night shift. And Alhamdulilah my uncle magically suggested the best one in town." She squealed, jumping up and down. Zayna's uncle was quite keen on her getting the best education, and position as possible. Well mainly because, we all know her mom is secretly trying to find a guy for her. Hence that it also was an advantage to us, what Zayna was about to say, she knew I would be more than shocked. I was very excited to leave this hospital but that meant being a newbie at another hospital, which meant people think you're dumb until you prove them wrong. It happens everywhere, it's like starting your first day of school.
"Assalamualaikum, girls" Hana and Maryam shouted out, these two girls were part of Zayna's and I group. Obviously, if you think we do not have a life, trust me we have others friends out there too, but when you go to school with someone, you get really close to them and that is how I felt amongst the girls. "I heard what happened" Hana sighed shaking her head in distraught. Hana was Arab, Zayna and I were Pakistani, and Maryam was Turkish/Afghani – Maryam was a year older than us. Apparently last year she had to repeat her program due to a mistake she made that had almost cost a patient her life. So you could imagine, how uncomfortable she felt to be at a place where she was humiliated, but things went well when these two girls became close. We all had each other's side and made a deal to never separate. Zayna and I would always be jealous of them because to be frank, I really disliked my Pakistani culture, it had too many traditions that I personally didn't believe in, but I also loved my culture. There are some aspects which gets to me and which ruins some of the concepts of the religion, Islam.
Tugging on her purple hijab, my mind and eyes studied a patient across from me. My eyebrows furrowed as I saw a man struggling to – "Guys!" I yelled out, giving no time to think, my yell had caught others attention, "this man is having a stroke!" My immediate reaction was to rush to save the man. As I ran I quickly called the nurses, "CALL CODE BLUE" and they followed me, My friends sped behind me and all took care of that man. "If we do not help him soon, he can go into cardiac arrest! His pacemaker is not functioning! Page Cardiac now! And could someone call Code Blue now!" My voice came out loud and subtle. With a few nurses they managed to get the man on a bed and rolled him quickly to an OR room. This was probably my first proper diagnoses, as we rushed down the hall, it was as if everything was happening in slomo, my neck started to feel warmer, and sweat trailed down as my heart was pounding loudly against my ear. My eyes did not leave the patients, I watched the man in pain flickering back and forth to him and to the doors, it was so sad to see people like that but then again I signed up for this mess. As they rolled in I had no doubt to recite the ayatul kursi (a prayer/wish) praying for the man's life.
"I got it from here thank you Doctor" A woman's voice spoke beside me, I looked at her taking the bed away. Dr. Hills, the best cardiac surgeon in the hospital. I admired her work, but it was not something I was in favour to do, my favourite specialty was neurology. The brain is such a complex structure subhanallah, which is what intrigued me to med school, and for some other reason. Nodding in obeyance, I backed up and watched them place the man in the operation bed.
Turning around I let out an unknown breath that was held in. It's scary to be a surgeon, it's a life and death situation, our hands need to be delicate when cutting someone open but firm. "Mashallah! Aiyla that was the best catch!" Hana said, her eyes open in shocked. Hana was very smart too, she had diagnosed about 3 times which was a good amount of numbers as a 4th year intern.
"Tell me about the new hospital" I finally mentioned, tryna ignore my heart pounding against my rib cage violently. After contemplating in my mind to leave or not, I had made my decision, and knew there will be the best in it. We head downstairs to the cafeteria, the best place to meet up, the ER and surgery floors were too busy. I wanted to work at a hospital where it wasn't just old people, or just a couple of rowdy teens, like the one we were in at the moment was an adult hospital and trust me mostly old people are racist. We walked down the stairs, my eyes were roaming around whilst listening to the girls talk amongst themselves, but what I couldn't help notice were the stares we received. It wasn't just the clothing but mainly the hijab, my or mainly our headscarf that I adored wearing. At a very young age, I thought a women looked beautiful in a hijab, it showed modesty, and best of all god loved it. After knowing the right time, I wore my first hijab, Grade 8, no one really cared, but she I never knew it would get tougher as I aged. I looked at the group of nurses talking obviously about her, raising my eyebrows with a questioning look to their odd staring. This caused the nurses to quickly look away, and started to talk.
'We aren't in highschool, we are doctors, not matter what colour you are and who you are everyone should be respected the same way.' I thought. Finally picking out a table they all sat down with a cup of coffee in their hands. "So..." Maryam trailed out, looking at Zayna.
"You know the hospital, PetersBrooke HealthCare Hospital" Zayna said smiling, mainly looking at my reaction. Zayna knew ever since they entered med school, I would not stop talking about how it's my dream place to work at. I admired PetersBrooke work! He was the best surgeon in London; to hearing what Zayna said my eyes widened, getting an interview from there is so hard, especially getting an offer from the hospital due to their pickiness in selecting their members. They were the richest of all in the country, and has many campus hospitals that lied within a city. "My cousin, you know Bilal works there as the chiefs fellow, so, he is putting our names under recommendation! In a few days we will be getting an email for an interview!"
"No way" I gasped in shock! My mind was frozen, it felt surreal, 'was this seriously happening!' my thoughts echoed. The girls thought identically. "Are you serious!" It was unbelievable, especially how such a turn can happen in life without ever knowing. But I decided not to get my hopes up, we never know what god has in store for us.
Time was ticking, my shift was almost over. Well that is only for a few hours, then I had to come back. My light brown eyes stared back at itself, I was probably the most basic Pakistani woman, not to mention the most loved in my family too, especially saying I am the only daughter. Caramel light skin colour, light brown eyes – eyelashes, and lips were probably my best features, as complimented by many, Not to remark the tiny dimple when I laughed. Eyelashes were thick, and lips were naturally red. Fixing my purple hijab on the corner of my face, I caught a glimpse of two girls talking. With an inner sight, my mind was already tired, and I couldn't take it anymore. "What?!" I shrugged my shoulder looking at them. They both looked startled but not for a few moment, till they started to smirk.
"What's that?" They scoffed pointed towards my headscarf.
Are people that unaware of what a hijab is, why do they have to care. "What's that?" I imitated them pointing towards their ripped shorts.
A smirk played my lips as they oddly pulled their shorts down. "Do I judge you for what you guys wear?" my voice rolled out in confidence. "Nope right, do I ever say why you wanna show your cleavage off, and what not?"
"Okay what the hell" one of the girl yelled back.
My hand rose up in defence, I pursed my lips, arching an eyebrow, knowing that they would be pissed at my obvious remark. "Just because I chose to follow my religion, doesn't mean you got any right to snarl and make fun of my decisions, the same way as I wouldn't say anything to you"
I watched as the two idiots still stared at me in the most annoying expression ever. Shaking my head, I added, "You can give me your opinion, in a respectful manner but that doesn't mean you can go behind my back and talk trash, Hun this isn't high school" and with that not wanting to leave any trace of there last words I left the washroom.. Happiness spread across me, well that was because I stood up. Honestly if you stand up for what you believe in, you will look the smartest of all. The confusion that really triggered me was that, why do they care so much about hijab. There is literally nothing wrong with it, speaking logically.
My head turned towards my pocket as it started to buzz uncontrollably, quickly grabbing my pager, 911 was portrayed on it. Glancing at the time, it was also time for Asr, dashing towards the ER I prayed - hoping that it wasn't too big of a case which would make me miss my prayer. "Here" the nurse passed me the reports. Tayma, 8 year old girl, brain tumour, had about 2 surgeries, one is coming up. My eyes had worried expressed visible, there was something wrong and I knew it. I rushed towards the room, and spotted the doctors giving the girl CPR. "Dr. Aiyla" Dr. Francis called out.
"Yes?"
"Quickly! Grab the defibrillator and charge at 200!"
Immediately obeying the commands, I grab the paddles, "charge 200! And Clear!" I said shocking the young girl's body. 'What was this young girl doing here, especially knowing this hospital works best on adults' my mind wandered. The monitor did not change, I had to charge again. The Rhythm of her heartbeat was still speeding at an unusual rate. "Again!" I made the clear decision, which has internally impressed Dr. Francis. "clear!" Everyone backed up, the body bounced up and landed back on the bed, my eyes were glued to the monitor, relief washed down my body as the heart rate started to pick a normal pace.
"Good work!" Doctor Francis smiled. At last I felt like I had finally done something right. For the past few days it had been hard to get any cases. No one wanted me as their doctor. Leaving this up to him, I left the room smiling.
"Oh my god! Aiyla is smiling!" Hana cheered in happiness. "Subhanallah! Haven't seen that in a few days"
This made me laugh at her statement, shaking my head. Although it was 100% true. "Well, I finally got to Save someone's life Alhamdulilah, and our neuro doctor said I did a good job" a bright smile appeared on my face and it was sure a tiny dimple appeared on the right side. I always wondered why everyone admired my dimple, it's a defect of a muscle, but I guess it could be cute.
"That's soooo great" she cheered, in a matter of second Hana already managed to text all of our other friends on how I saved someone. Yes it wasn't a big thing you might assume but as interns every little thing really counts. A death and a Save.
At this moment I could feel my stomach growling, I just wanted to go home and sleep. It was almost time anyways, "oh no! We have to pray!" Hana quickly agreed and we both headed downstairs towards the prayer area. It was mine, and possibly the girls favourite place, it had a beautiful lighting and it was just so quiet and calm. After praying I made a long dua (wish) that consisted of a good future, forgiveness and thankfulness for whatever god had offered us in life.
Zayna and Maryam also made their entrance and started prayer. I , finished earlier than the others decided to wait, which got me thinking. 'We are currently in our almost mid 20s', which meant going home is the worst. Especially when stupid marriage talk arises. Again, a lot of people do assume that it's because of our religion, that young girls are made to be married early. But that is never the case, it's always the culture that conflicts in life, and it really depends on what kind of family you live in. But all Pakistani do understand, that our proposals are out there in the air, more frustrating than medical school. Zayna and I were more understanding in this, the only difference was their family was more religious, mine was much more traditional than hers, but thankfully none of our parents really cared of what we wanted to become, I know a lot of people do care, no matter what wealthy stage you live in, but they shouldn't, Zayna life was more religious which meant more freedom, mines was religion too but... more tradition. Two different aspect and a roller coaster life.
It wasn't until Maghrib, around evening time I made my way back to home. I was so tired that all I could think of was how my bed was calling out to me. Aiyla Aiyla, snuggle up in the warmth of me, ill give all the love you need, I wanted to be engulfed by it and just sleep forever, why don't we all just marry a bed? That wasn't going to happen, I had to eat, take a shower, and do some paper work then sleep. What sacrifices we make though, to help the community. Ringing the doorbell, the door flew open and a strong scent of food washed over my body, instantly waking me up for food. My mom was a very well-known professional chef, and well my Father had passed away, when I was 10 years old, I had always – kind of wanted a father then but my mom refused to get married. At that time arranged marriage was a big thing and not the force kind. My mom loved my father but I guess things happen in life which we have no control of. Alhamdulilah my mom is a hard working woman, she is a caterer and has so many clients wanting her delicious food. "AssalamuAlaikum ma" my voice yelled out, I closed the door.
"Walaikumassalam, Aiyla can you please take out food for your brothers, Im too busy at the moment" Her mom said quickly. Adam was my older brother, a studied biomedical engineer, tall man, with very light caramel eye colour, he got it from their father. Adam just got recently engaged to Zayna's older cousin. When we heard Adam really liked her, and was ready to marry her, Zayna and I were in awe, and couldn't stop talking about how we would be half related, and how amazing this was going to be. Adam and I were only 3 years apart, Ahmed was the younger one he was about 6 years younger.
I burst into my older brother room folding my arms. "Wake up!" I yelled out to Adam only receiving a groan from him. "You can't sleep like an idiot! You dont work shifts like me! I should be the one sleeping, this is un-
"Im up! Im up!" his groggy voice barely came out. It hit me, how in a few years, or a year I won't be able to have late night talks with my brother, this brought my heart drop miles down, but I ignored my emotions and watched him finally make his way off the bed and into the washroom. 'Well that was easy done today normally it's so hard to do!' I made my way to the kitchen taking the plates out and putting hot delicious rice mom made. Ahmed came quickly with his books in his hand. He was only 18, last year of highschool. Highschool was fun but annoying, university was probably the most memorable time.
"Aiyla, I need to talk to you" Mom said, and there it was. Something I was trying to avoid for the past few days, but now I was dead. I'm not interested at all. I took my hijab off realizing how hot it was getting in here. Ignoring what she said, I sat down and saw my khala (mom sister) enter the kitchen. She was visiting us for a day.
"Aiyla! How are you?" she had a big smile on her face. Giving her an enormous hug, lavender perfumed filled my nose, such a sweet scent which I preferred to smell everyday then the sick patients.
Whenever there was a Lavender smell in a specific Area that meant Aunt Farina was totally there.
"Tired" I truthfully told her, snickering a fake laugh. Everyone sat in the table eating peacefully in silence. I loved to be surrounded with my family, but also I realized how my heart ached wanting to go back to the hospital and learn more.
"Aiyla" my mom started, she cleared her throat glancing at her sister. I rolled my eyes mentally prepared myself for what is about to come, and yes my instincts were correct, "shazia aunty is looking for someone for her nephew, he is a good guy, he has a good job and heard his personality is really good -
"Ma, how can you say that guy is good based on what someone tells you? Obviously they will tell you the good about him, not the bad! I do not want some random guy okay. I am not into marriage right now!" I cleared my point out which did not satisfy my mom, my aunt looked at me nervously and back to my sister, she knew an argument was going to development. In a point she knew her sister was right, I was getting older, and it was about time, while she knows I also had a point, they weren't sure of how this guy really is. On the other hand, I wanted to get married, and yes those fantasies to roam my mind, but I have started to accept that it will never come true. However I wonder that why does it have to be this cousin's, cousins or that. Zayna parents aren't like that, why was my family more traditional. Anger started to fume inside of me, I got up and pushed the plate away leaving the kitchen. My appetite was lost, I wasn't in the mood for anything.
"Aiyla! What is this behaviour?!" My ears picked up mom's distinct voice.
It made sense to me, why mom would be stressed, she probably denied a lot, too many out there. I knew it was wrong, god sends a proposal based on knowing what you can handle. As I walked towards my room, I closed my eyes as my doors banged shut loudly. Because of these tradition people think Islam is like that, as if it portrays force marriage when it isn't. It promotes marrying someone you are comfortable with, but there is no way I had the guts to say that, especially to my mom. I had respect towards elders, but I knew when something was wrong, it is vital to tell no matter what age they are. Fixing my messy brown hair into a good bun I falls asleep with my coat on and pager. Every surgeon, needs to have their pager with them, or else, you know. It was probably the best choice for me, especially having only two hours of sleep anyways. Well falling asleep was an underestimation, my eyes flew open as soon as I heard the door open. 'I, only had two hours and somebody is seriously willing to bother me at this moment' Through the doors Aunt appeared, she looked rather upset by my reaction that played out in the kitchen, which for me was not the big deal. I knew I may seem selfish at the moment, but for real wedding talks. Wedding talks, ugh.
"Look Aiyla, I know you aren't interested but you can at least hear him out" Aunty explained. "Your mom doesn't want you to get married when you are 88 years old"
I let out a giggle at her rhetorical statement, "I know, but really Aunt, cousins of this and that. Can't you find just a normal guy, not saying a cousin isn't normal, but there are many good muslims out there! I want anyone who knows his religion, who has the capability of taking care of me, whatever just not a fricken old cousin. My mind set and his is very different" After saying this Aunt completely understood what I was talking about, and felt exactly what I was feeling. It happened to her, but yet she was forced into a horrible marriage, even her sister knew, although that was a long lost legend and no one ever spoke about it. Force and Arrange are completely two different things. I saw the expression on Aunts face, the expression played out to be an understanding one. 'Hopefully she got what I meant' I thought. "Now can I sleep?"
"Good Night, Allah Hafiz" She said tugging me into bed.
"Allah hafiz" I mumbled lowly, sleep took over me in a matter of seconds.
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A/N:
Aye!! Welcome to the starting of my new book! I wanted to do a little different than what I normally right about, i believe this book should be read by diverse cultures out there. So you really truly get an insight of a Muslimah lifestyle. Not saying everyone is like this, we all have different challenges but hope you enjoyed and can relate!
WARNING:
Please, please do not use any treatments from this book, to diagnose someone in real life. All of this is fake! and never, ever search up things on internet and diagnose yourself, lol trust me, internet makes every thing seem like you will die.