Awaiting was over,it was regularity which was becoming harder to achieve. Haphazardness wined my body.
Sick.
This word was not an easy word to overcome. My heart shivered when I saw its severity. Human body is full of reactions. A body laid for years, without any physical movement and activity would be expectable to have health issues.
Her whole body was grazed with rashes,the reason was medic but shocking to me. I didn't know anything about that infection,a disease. While I couldn't also muster the courage to ask someone.
Therefore, there was no one whom I could ask, I could trust.
I thought to access Internet and find some information,but I , being a child of an illiterate family never had touched such big lit-up screen of a smartphone,Bilal bought me.I had always used a small button phone. I knew only some feathers of that new and advanced device. That idea failed also. How to browse internet was beyond my knowledge.
There left nothing but melancholy and chasm with some rays of hope.
Feelings of dejection and voidness was also unambiguous in my mother-in-law's eyes. Sometimes,the groans of pain fathomed the room echoing the walls of that confined room.
She was in immense pain. I couldn't bear it with my eyes. That didn't let me sleep at night. In the whispers of Midnight,she groaned with pain, called me with her heart and soul, screaming wordless sounds .
I walked to her hopelessly, watching her with blank eyes.
I scrutinized every corner of her room and the house in search of a remedy of her pain. Any balm,any medicine,any way that could sprinkle some peace in her burning body. But I found nothing.
The despair and disappointment were so heavier that I couldn't even share it with her. How would she feel to know there was no remedy of her pain?
What condolences could I console her heart while my own fragile heart was thirsty for some tender words?
I got worried to death for days. On a sudden, I recalled the letters which were written by Bilal. Maybe he wrote something about it? It was a guess,yet a desiring hope.
Opening the envelope,my eyes fell upon the same acquaintances of the hand writing,
Letter 2:
Dear Husna,
I know on which consequences I have pushed you.Believe me, I was compelled to do this.If you are nursing my mother then,hear, I am ever grateful to you than anything else in this world. I fear how much you hate me. You might have thought I have used you,left you alone in the middle of a broken bridge. But trust me, I am in as much pain as you are. Yes, though I know I wrote this letter before, but I already have known what the state of my heart will be when I will be leaving you. I pray May Allah keep you and my mother in the best states. May He unites your hearts and strengthen you. Husna, the person I have ever loved after my mother is you.
Your hopeful husband,
Bilal
I just couldn't hold my tears. The crystal drops kept flowing my orbs, drenching the hem of my sleeves as well as made the paper wet and fragile. Storms of emotions raised in the atmosphere of my heart. I swiftly escaped the half-folded letter from my grip as it flied away in the wind across the window. I didn't desire to see it last time. Because I was drowned in the scars ,the letter gave me.
Why am I so attached to Bilal?
Why can't I stop feeling for him?
Why I wait for him?
Why can't I hate him?
The questions triggered my heart constantly. I was so clueless about the charismatic feelings,Allah had grown in the field of my heart. He,the changers of hearts, intentionally compelled my heart to fall for Bilal unconditionally. And love for Bilal pulled my heartstrings to Love Bilal's mother more than I want to.
Breaking the shackles of my inner feelings, I had then come to sense that I didn't get the answer,my intention was not to read the letter, nevertheless I read it for the information I needed for curing Bilal's mother's disease.
I aggressively lingered my fingers on the other letters and travelled my eyes from one to another. The ambiguous glances of the letters reflected in mind, searching for the particular one.
Some letters were half read but understood what Bilal wanted to say by me.Bilal wrote them in short to guide me in some important and necessary things.
Letter 3:
Dear Husna,
I hope you and Ma are well. I know I will be missing you both. I am writing this to make you know that mother is allergic to shrimp,if you ever cook it, don't feed her. Don't let her spit or vomit her medicine. May Allah make things easy for you. Even if she annoys you on things,please don't act rude with her. Just for Allah's sake and my sake. My request is to treat her well like I have always, despite of her being an adamant and over-consious ill woman. Forgive me.
Your requesting husband
Bilal.
~᯽~
Letter 4:
Dear Husna,
Besides mother take care of yourself, you don't have to wash her clothes every day. You can wash them after one days. She has enough clothes in the third drawer of her closet. Kindly shuffle her clothes regularly.Don't let her drenched in urine,it will make her sick. And Husna, forgive me you have to clean her loo. I know it is not easy... I know you are going through a hard time.May Allah....
Going through couple of letters I was disappointed when I didn't find a letter with the mention of infection. I got too desperate for the remedy that I forcibly ignored the other letters which were equally heart wrenching.
My eyes grazed over a letter which seemed to be the 7th letter skipping the sixth one. I hopefully
opened the envelope with hesitant hands.
Letter 7:
Dear Husna,
You are well,right? I will be stoning my heart to believe it. My ma, I know she is the same,ill and paralyzed. You have been living with her so difficultly. I am writing to inform you that An ailing person need to be cleaned by bathe,which my mother has not done even in 5 years I guess. No, I assure you. It has been many times, her body had grown red and white rashes with much pain. It's one of the parts of her disease. If it happens do not get worried. I know she gets too much bothered when it affects, she cries all day long and late nights out of pain. You buy a balm called 'Alatrol Gel 250 mg'. And apply it on her rashes 3 times a day until it disappears fully. If possible keep her clean in all tactics you can. With a cloth wet in water or with moisturizer, anything. I don't want to burden you. Please take care of her. Forgive me.
Your guilty husband,
Bilal
|⚠︎ The medicine mentioned is not real ⚠︎ |
At last I sighed with a widdened smile of relief. He wrote it. He wrote about it. I ran towards the Cupboard of my room,leaving the unfolded letters apart laid alone on the bed,the wooden box vacant. I had to buy the balm as soon as possible.
The thought deep in my heart, how hard it would be to handle with this disease, pierced like a sharp pin. The more easily Bilal has wrote it,the difficult it was to be done.
Grabbing an autumnal green scarf matching with my salwar kamiz, I folded it around my head. How long it had been I hadn't decked up ? I asked myself twirling in front of mirror.
I could see someone else before me. I had almost lost myself, my face looked strange, unfamiliar and unknown to me. I stared at the bristly black hued hair in lost of any volume or smoothness, pale face with few dark circles, rough skin without moisture and mostly hollowed eyes, no sparks in them , show casing the incomplete sleepless nights.
I could only remind the familiar face with prominent lines and foldings in cheeks and eyelids,blue ocean eyes,frigid hands,white clothes. All I could see in myself was someone else. Someone who had conquered my life fully, taken me far from myself.
What if there was another woman in my place?
Would she enjoy a lavish life with this big apartment full of luxuries,no tantrums of husband,no works except her own ?
Or she would give all her mind and soul in nursing her ailing mother-in-law like a fool as me?