The Silver Lining

Note: Dearest readers. I’m so sorry for the delay. I will be posting soon again to make up for it, InshaAllah 

A 🌸

Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem

Zuleikha

Many people in life live just for the moments. They are searching. Craving. Hoping to find that one moment, that will define them. 

The moments make them. It makes them run… cry… sometimes…

 Even fall.

But the heart of what makes us run… after anything…. is simply love. The need to give and receive love. This need has been put in us by the Creator. And every need created by God, has been created for a purpose. The need to give and receive love was created as a driver.

You see, we began with our Lord, and He wants us to come back to Him in this life—even before we come back to Him in the next. So He puts inside us, drivers intended to bring us back. Intended to bring us back Home.

But our problem is we get lost along the way.

More than a thousand times a day, we are ‘born’… We forget that each birth is a new opportunity to start over, to turn around, or to keep going. To rise higher, to heal, to grow. To be different. To be better. To grow. To transform.

But mainly… To return. Through Tawbah.
The problem is… we’re too busy dying.

”I’m dying! I’m dying!”

It was Jameels voice that was murmuring, and as the fluid continued to trickle down my leg, I held my breath, gaping at my brother. 

“He’s overreacting,” Ahmed said, throwing his hands up in the air.

What had he done?

The pistol was nowhere in sight.  He walked over to where Jameel was laying, and I watched him with my mouth hanging open. 

“You’re not dying, idiot,” he said, shaking his head. “I just knicked your shirt.”

I could see Jameel stiffen as he lay on the floor and Ahmed came closer, and I could almost imagine the hostility in his thunderous eyes. 

It didn’t stop Ahmed. He thrust his face close to Jameel’s as he spoke.

“Next time,” he said softly, but loud enough for me to hear. “Next time you touch my sister, I’ll aim for your head.”

I heard Jameel spit, and Ahmed shot back, getting onto his feet again. 

My mother-in-law was screaming murder as she raced into the lounge of my house, kneeling down at Jameels side as he squirmed in pain. I can see blood somewhere close to him, and I immediately went slightly dizzy as I processed.

Was Ahmed serious? Was it his head? His arm? Or maybe it was just his nose again? 

Blood. Bloody blood. I couldn’t stand it. The minute I saw it, I felt all dizzy and out of it. It was all a bit much for me. And although it might hav not been serious, I was scared to death for Ahmed. 

“Ahmed, go!” I urged him, hoping he would listen and just remove himself from the whole scenario. 

My discomposure increased as I heard the raised voices, and the dull throbbing in my lower tummy persisted. 

“Crazy!”  My mother in law spat at my brother. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with this! We’ve got more money than you could even dream of, boy. You mess with us and you’ll regret it.”

She was talking about money now? Really?! I was almost as shocked as I had been when I first heard the gunshot. 

Money. Gosh. It was true that nothing satiates a person until they die. Even in this situation. 

My sister -in-law was now at the door, silent but in shock. She had a purple dress  on and her hair was disheveled. She was wondering what on earth had happened. 

And then, as she looked at me questioningly, her gaze fell on the floor beneath me, where a small pool of liquid had gathered. She blinked a few times and then swallowed, pointing downwards. 

“It’s … err…” 

I looked down, and then it hit me. 

I didn’t know what was going on. I was still in limbo. But as I spotted the puddle. I realized that there was a urgency that I needed to act with. Something was happening with the baby, I had to get to a hospital, and I had to get there fast. 

There was a series of shouts and a instructions, and during that time all I could feel was panic. Panic and fear. 

I knew that this moment would come and although it was inevitable… I couldn’t seem to shake that nagging feeling. How was I going to get through this? 

Too much was happening all at once. I needed Ahmed to get out of here, and I needed to as well. For the first time in my life, I felt nothing for Jameel as he rolled around on the floor, wincing in pain. Everything that he had put me through had made me emotionless, and the fact that I was in pain at that moment too was certainly his fault. 

I screamed with agony for the first time as I felt the once dull ache become something close to severe, and I made my way to the door. This was no joke. This was definitely serious stuff.

“I’m calling the ambulance,” Mishka said, worry in her tearful eyes. “For you both.”

I looked around as I slumped to the floor, looking for my brother. 

Thankfully, he was nowhere in sight. My father-in-law wasn’t at home either and during the few months I had come to realize that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree when it came to bad habits.

Jameel and his father were the same. It clearly explained his mother’s indifference when I told her about him. It kind of explained her manner and her progressive ugliness. She had been going through this years and needed a scape goat. 

I breathed heavily as I waited for the pain to soothe again, and the minutes before the ambulance arrived seemed like eternity. Everything was in slow motion as I glimpsed the flashing lights through the window, and then, as the pain intensified along with my outbursts, everything whizzed by like I couldn’t believe. 

It wasn’t a pleasant experience. It was far from beautiful, as some mothers explain their birthing process. There was nothing further from the truth. The labor was excruciating and the baby was too big. There was no time for an epidural. I had to have multiple stitches and couldn’t do much besides cry and scream out of pain, even after I heard the baby let out his first cry. 

I had no one. I was alone, and I had no one to even support me whilst I struggle to get past the most torturous experience in my life. 

The baby was still crying. 

And then I paused, just for a millisecond. I stopped breathing and I stopped pushing, because suddenly, the realization hit me.

My goodness. I was a mother. 

The cries sounded so innocent and pure.

And then, when I could feel the pain finally start to wear off, tears filled my eyes then, for a completely newfound reason. 

This baby, that was now thrust into my arms looked like a stranger to me. I knew nothing about him and yet, there was an inexplicable bond between us, because we had shared so much for the past few months. Beyond the blood and oxygen that had connected us so directly, there was something so much more intimate, that I couldn’t believe. I held him close to my chest as I felt his heart beat, and I already knew. 

I knew that I was going to love him forever. I knew that he was mine. I also knew that I would do anything for him.

He squirmed and let out a tiny moan, signaling hunger. I clumsily pressed him toward me as the nurse showed me how to latch him, and it was the most beautiful  moment ever. He just knew. How did he know? He just knew. 

His tiny hands clenched discreetly and his eyes stayed shut as he drifted back into sweet slumber. 

It was a baby. A real, living and breathing baby.

I was so relieved that he was normal. After everything, I didn’t think I deserved this. It was a miracle of my Lord. He was perfect. Normal, healthy, and so, so perfect. 

I hummed a little song like I remember Mama doing when we were young, reciting the Kalinah that we were accustomed to hearing from the time we were born. It was the lullaby we would hear as we drifted into slumber, and the motto that kept us grounded to our Deen. Even as I grew up… I prayed that it would bring me back somehow.. and I would learn it’s true meaning in a completely different way now that I was a mother. To see the magic that was brought from within me in an entirely different perspective. 

Lost in thought, I was jolted up as the door opened and the first person who they called for me stumbled in. Neither could I believe it nor could I surrender this new bundle of joy over to him.

Jameel stood a few feet away from my bed and looked at me. His shoulder was bandaged and he wore a faint look of defeat, but other than that, he seemed fine. 

“Are you still dying?” I asked him, not holding back on the sarcasm even minutely.

I didnt care about his injury. I knew he would be fine when Ahmed said so. My brother was an expert with the gun, unfortunately, he barely ever missed his target.

He had certainly not wanted to kill Jameel. Just to scare him. I wasn’t sure that I was entirely at peace with all that transpired, but it is what it is, and in retrospect, Allah definitely had a plan for me right then. He was the only was who got me through this. Throughout it all, He was the one Who remained. He always remains.  

Today… right now… was something that was completely unexpected, and to put it lightly, I was kind of blown away.  

Jameel, at least, was awaiting my invitation to come closer, and I eventually acceded to his silent request by turning over to the other side, despite the pain that I was feeling in my lower body. I looked at him, half-beckoning him over, although I felt fiercely protective over this innocent life that now lay in my arms. He was the father, after all. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Jameel whispered, and I could see him lower his head as he sat down, almost hiding himself in agony and embarrassment. He wasn’t looking high.

Maybe they had given him something at the hospital that had sent him into this emotional state. I almost felt sorry for him, but I didn’t. There was no need to. He didn’t want pity. He just wanted another chance. I wasn’t sure what his parents would say or what would come out of all of this, but there was only one way to find out. 

I looked down at the baby, and he did too, reaching out to touch his cheek. 

This baby. This little miracle. A piece of my heart.

His birth was a milestone that I would never forget, and his presence would be one that would stay forever.

Motherhood. Motherhood was not for the faint hearted. It consumes you and it seizes you completely. As I looked from him to Jameel, I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t know whether to forgive him and move on. I didn’t know if it was  worth even trying this again. I didn’t even know if he was sincere. 

All I knew was that I would never let my son see the man that his father had become. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it, but I knew that there was one plan I had to put in place.

There was only one thing I could do, and only one way I could ensure our safety. There was no other Refuge beside the one who created me… and this little life that had lived inside of me for these few months. All I had to do was put my full faith in my Lord, and trust that it would all work out. Whatever the circumstances. Whatever the consequence. 

This was going to be the start of the most challenging chapter in my life… a virtue not only of this little life, but of me as well. 

More than a thousand times a day, we are ‘born’… We forget that each birth is a new opportunity to start over, to turn around, or to keep going. To rise higher, to heal, to grow. To be different. To be better. To grow. To transform.

But mainly… To return. Through Tawbah.
The problem is… we’re too busy dying. Too busy dying to see the bigger picture. Too busy dying, to see that maybe… this isn’t the end.

Too busy dying to see that after all, and despite the storm… 

There’s always a silver lining. 

• Baby
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