'...Sameera blinked away a tear that had crept up silently...'
Streaks
of sunlight streamed in through the red velvet curtains. Lost in her
thoughts, Sameera was busy scribbling away in a diary.
"The lonely rose,
Jolted in misery and gloom,
Darkness all around,
My fate is never to bloom..."
Jolted in misery and gloom,
Darkness all around,
My fate is never to bloom..."
She
loosely constructed some verses of poetry to empty out the cries of
her aching heart. She could no longer bear it. "Why are my prayers not
answered? Why am I destined to never achieve what I desire? Why?" There
were so many unanswered questions circling inside her mind. She had
racked her brain on the monthly budget this time to manage saving for a
few extra things she wanted. Three new sweaters and a pair of sandals
for Bilal, a new dress and handbag for herself, a cutlery set and a few
other accessories; the list of things she had made will have to be
postponed for yet another month. Bilal, her two year old son was down
with fever and all her savings ended up with some clerk in the medical
stores.
Sameera could picture her sister in
law, Raheela, boasting about her tableware. She could imagine her
friends swaggering about the attire of their children. "Oh! I choose
the best for my chipmunks! Sadaf so wanted this frock and I didn't have
the heart to refuse." She recalled one her friend's remarks. Anger,
frustration and self-pity stewed inside her heart. The poor soul
thought about how she would feel out of water among all the other
fishes as they discussed their shopping sprees. Sameera would just have
her lips tightly closed. She had nothing to tell. At times, the others
would quip about the number of times they had seen their comrade in
the same clothes, carrying the same handbag and wearing the same shoes.
Their memories were sharp enough to remember what she wore months back
in the wedding of a distant cousin.
"Why??"
she mumbled aloud. "Life is terrible!" Sleeping on the bed beside, her
husband could now hear the sound of muffled cries. He knew his wife
too well to wonder what must have gone wrong. He, with the caring
nature he had, tried his utmost to provide the best for his family.
However, the winds were bitter and despite all his efforts the needs in
such a society never end.
A tiny finger tugged at the end of her
shirt. "Kids will never let you sit in peace", Sameera sighed and
turned to the darling face. It was Bilal wanting to cuddle in the
heavenly spot that heals and comforts; his mother's lap. Overcoming her
previous feelings she started ruffling his curls and rummaged for the
thermometer. Alhumdulillah, after copious wakeful nights, Bilal was now
recovering."I am going to meet an old friend of mine, Sameera. It has been a long time since I met him. Do you want to come along?" Asim asked as he was getting ready to leave the following day.
"I don't want to ruin another evening with a snooty woman boasting around me. I'll just stay home I guess."
"She won't be that way I hope. I've heard her to be very simple." He assured.
After
a quiet twenty minute drive, the three of them arrived at the gate of a
fairly old but well-kept house. Brother Ismael welcomed them inside.
His two sons whom she assumed were identical twins jumped up and down
in excitement, they wanted to shake hands with a sleepy Bilal. Sameera
was lead inside as the men settled themselves in the guestroom. All the
while the woman in her was doing the same job she detested. Those
eagle eyes scanned everything in the house from top to bottom; the
furniture and their polish, the curtains and their rods, the carpet and
upholsters. Nothing was as grand, as new or as perfect. However, the
house-keeper deserved an extra mark for neatness. A plump little lady
greeted her as she entered the lounge. She was holding a baby in the
other hand. "Whoa!" Sameera exclaimed instinctively. The sofa had sunk
as she tried to sit down. "Oh I'm sorry! You may take this chair over
here; the kids have broken the sofa springs!" Asiya smiled and offered
an arm chair. Sameera noticed that the baby did not appear normal. He
was a mentally disabled child.
The table had been set for tea
beforehand. Spicy egg sandwiches, biscuits and a delicious looking cake
were waiting to be tried over. The host poured out tea as the two of
them introduced. A vigorous tête-à -tête followed; it was all about
children, food, family and the town. All the while the woman was
patiently tending to the child, as well as her two naughty twins who
kept interrupting from time to time for a biscuit, or to tell that
daddy needed something."How old is your daughter Asiya?" Sameera asked inquisitively.
"Five years." She replied with a smile. That warm smile looked as if it was fastened to her face.
"Hmm...I feel so sorry for you Asiya. I see you are having a real tough time." said Sameera.
"Sorry? There's nothing to be sorry for. Ahumdulillah! I am so blessed. I have food in my fridge that can last for more than a week, I've a ceiling over me to safeguard and I have a loving family. There's everything I can ask for. And this dear little daughter over here, she is the greatest blessing of all. She reminds me of Allah! What if in her absence I never turned to Him, never prayed to Him and just cascaded away in the luxuries of this world?
...Sameera
listened quietly as she reflected on her own state. The forlorn heart
that lied inside her was in such dire need of this reminder. "Yes", she
thought to herself, "the sweaters can wait; the older ones are still
as good as new. The new cutlery set I wanted was just a luxury. The
dress Mama gave me last month will suffice for the upcoming wedding..."
she was reviewing her list. This was not a list of needs; it was a
list of wants. She reminded herself of all the bounties she had been
blessed with, they were immeasurable! Contentment and bliss engulfed
her heart.
"Alhumdulillah, indeed you are right." She replied with a nod.
Sameera blinked away a tear that had crept up silently... Do I really not have enough?... Or was I being ungrateful?
Source : Idealmuslimah.com
Hmmm... may Allah SWT forgive us of our ingratitude for all his mercies. Ameen. Great piece.
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