A Minute From You, Means A Thousand Hours For Me

Friends,

a word in which you could think of many nicest thoughts,

a word in which you will see lying behind it,

stronger and meaningful words of;

loyalty,

kind,

respect,

honour,

keeping promises,

and much more other beautiful words,

which signifies the responsibilities,

the qualities,

needed in a Friend.

And then there is a saying goes,

“A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

And the worst part of the story of me writing all these is that,

I had neglected those responsibilities.

I disown the merits needed in a Friend.

In simpler form of words,

I am a bad friend.

I remember saying the words like,

“Let’s promise each other,

To cherish this friendship,

To still become friends,

Although we are worlds apart.”

The same ol’ same ol’ words,

That I’ve repeated ever since I went to primary school.

Ever since I made a friend,

And ever since we need to depart,

And started walking on different paths.

I remember having friends were one of the greatest things,

That has happened to my life.

They changed my perspective on certain prospect of life.

They changed my feelings from sorrow to joy.

They made me forget the pain that I have inside me.

They taught me that friendship must be cherished.

And I realized that.

I realized that when I first make friends.

The constant saying of love.

The constant saying of miss.

The constant saying of thanks.

The constant saying of sorry.

Although all the words spoken that seems decades ago doesn’t matter now,

But one thing that I hope is for

Neither any of you my friends, had the slightest thoughts,

Doubting those words that I’ve spoken before,

As if I never mean it.

When I said all those magic words,

In which it felt as if decades ago,

I did mean it.

The problem that I’m facing now is that,

I forgot how everything was special around us.

I forgot how beautiful our friendships were.

I forgot the magic words that had slipped from my lips.

I forgot, I forgot.

And I don’t blame any of you my friends,

Or do I still have the right to refer all of you as my friends?

I don’t blame any of you from being mad at me.

I don’t blame any of you from drawing away from me.

Because I caused all that to happened.

So many sorry,

So many promises made and be broken again.

So many times I have hurt all of your feelings.

So many times I repeat the same mistakes.

So many tears I caused all of you to shed.

So many memories that I could sense that,

 You wish I wasn’t part of it.

Because it will hurt you more for reminiscing those memories that we had shared.

I should have at least tried.

Although we have part our ways,

I should have at least given a call once a week.

Or text on certain days in a week.

Or email,

Or send direct messages,

Or anything,

Just to ask how have you been doing,

How is your family,

Is there any good news you would like to share,

Is there any sad news you would like to pour out.

I should have at least,

Become your ‘crying shoulder’,

If not every day like I used to be,

On certain occasions you felt sorrow I should’ve still become the crying shoulder.

In simpler words,

I should have at least acted like a Friend.

It’s probably too late to try and fix everything now.

It’s probably too broken to mend everything now.

And I realized that second chances,

 or I guess probably the hundredths times of second chances all of you had given me?

Would not be given to me anymore.

And I will put the blame on me.

On me, and not anyone else.

The memories that we have shared,

I know I couldn’t rewind them to experience them again.

I know I couldn’t make all of you laugh like I used to.

I know I couldn’t make all of you smile like I used to.

Dear Nur Aisyah,

Dear Nabihah,

Dear Anis,

Dear ‘Aisyah,

Dear Husna,

Dear Kyra,

Dear Hanani,

Dear Qila,

Dear Alia,

Dear Tera,

Dear Fatin,

Dear Kak Fatin,

Dear Aisyah,

Dear Jannah,

Dear Insyirah,

Dear Aimisya,

Dear Nalut,

Dear Unie,

Dear Fasyak,

Dear all.

I guess I still owe you all those magic words,

For I don’t know any other words that could say exactly that,

I’m sorry for everything,

For every single mistakes,

For every wound,

For every tears.

I’m sorry that I should have become a friend,

Your true friend.

I’m sorry that I never made an effort,

An impacting effort,

To become a true friend.

Nur Aisyah, Nabihah, Anis, Atikah, Syahmira, ‘Aisyah,

The memories that we have shared since we were small,

The friendship that has been created ever since,

I’m sorry for not being a good friend.

We were ‘best friends’.

But I had not been acting like one.

I hope we could still be able to communicate like we used to when we were kids.

Although 13 years have passed,

I hope we could reunite.

Thank you for being my friend, my best friend.

Thank you for all the help that you lent.

Thank you for everything.

Thank you for creating memories those were beautiful.

Husna, Kyra, Hanani, Qila, Alia, Tera, Fatin,

The beautiful memories of 3 years old,

The friendships of 7 years that we should have ever since we met,

I’m sorry for not being the best friend for all of you.

Kyra, Husna,

Both of you were among the first to know me since I first entered SB,

And the friendship we had created ever since.

With more friends that we met along the way,

Qila, Hanani, Alia, Tera.

The friendship that turns out to be pretty strong,

Back then.

I’m sorry for everything,

For every single mistake,

For not being the best friend for all of you.

Thank you for every precious moment.

Thank you for being the reason for me to laugh and smile.

Thank you for all the help that you lent.

Thank you for being my friend, my best friend.

Dear Jannah, Insyirah, Aimisya, Nalut, Unnie, Fasyak, Anis,

The memories of 2 years old,

The friendship that we should have own for 5 years,

Thank you for everything.

For the treasurable memories.

Thank you.

I’m sorry for not being a good friend and a best friend.

I’m sorry for everything, for every fault.

I’m sorry.

Dear all,

I’m sorry for every fault I had done.

I’m sorry for carelessly handled our friendship.

Thank you for still being there for me.

I know all these words don’t mean anything to heal those wounds I have caused.

I know all these words probably will raised hopes for me,

To start being a friend to you.

Probably cannot recreate the past.

But at least, sowing new memories.

Insha Allah.

I realized that enough promises been broken,

I realized that enough sins I had done towards all of you.

I realized that I should make a move.

I’m sorry if I made you feel regret of knowing me.

I’m sorry again, for everything.

I’m sorry if I should have written more.

I pray so that Allah prolong your life,

Grant all of you constant success and happiness,

In this world and the akhirah.

I pray so that He eases everything that you’re doing right now,

And protect you and your family and those precious people around you,

From any harmful things and calamity.

And I pray,

That you could accept my apologies.

I also pray,

So that I could become a person who hold tightly to her promises,

Who would bring joy and not tears to the wonderful people around her.

Yes, all of you were and still are,

 wonderful.

BGR #2 Don't Be Sad (Part 1)

Bismillahirrahmanirraheem. This usrah is based on the marvellous book authored by Dr 'Aid al Qarni : La Tahzan. Pg 209-210. The word within the (_) sign is a synonym to the word before it.

 

 

 

Don't Be Sad: Sooner or Later Everything in This World Perishes

 

       Death is the end of us all: the oppressor and the oppresed, the mighty and the feeble, the rich and the poor. Your death is no novelty. Nations before have gone and nations after will perish.

 

       Ibn Batoota related that in the north, there is a graveyard with one thousand kings buried in it. At the entrance of this graveyard is a sign that reads:

 

       "The Kings, ask the dirt about them,

         And about the great leaders; they are all bones now."

 

       A cause for wonder is the forgetfulness of man and how he remains heedless (oblivious) of death, the menace (threat) of which hangs over him day and night. Man delues himself into thinking that he is immortal on this earth.

 

{ O Mankind! Fear your Lord and be dutiful to Him! Verily, the earthquake of the Hour (of Judgement) is a teribble thing.} (Quran 22:1)

 

{ Draws near for mankind their reckoning, while they turn away in heedlessness. } (Quran 21:1)

 

      When Allah destroyed a nation and wiped out a transgressing people, He, the Almighty, said:

 

{ Can you find a single one of them or hear even a whisper of them? } (Quran 19:98)

 

 

Depression Leads To Misery

 

       The newspaper al-Muslimoon reported that in 1990, two million people suffered from depression around the world. Depression is a sickness that has quietly wreaked (inflicted) havoc on humankind. It does not distinguish between people from the west or east, or between the rich and poor. It is a malady (illness) that attacks all kinds of people... and may in certain cases lead to suicide.

 

       Depression does not recognize or stand in awe of wealth, nobility (nobleness) or power. However, it does stay aloof from the believer. Some statistics indicate that 200 million people are now suffering from depression.

 

       The findings of a recent study showed that at least one out of every ten people has at one time or another suffered from this dangerous sickness. The danger is not restricted to adults; even the young are now susceptible (vulnerable) to depression. Even the fetus in the womb is at risk, for a depressed mother can turn to abortion as a means of escaping from her problem.

A Bulatan Gembira Video :D

 

Credits to Quyyum :)

The Last Time: Chapter Three (THE UNFORESEEN)

Part 2

 

 (Im)

 

 

            I promised to accompany Fik for lunch at the café. I think it would be a good change to have some rice inside me, as I’ve been having biscuits, bread and tea at my room since last two nights. It’s not like I’m on a diet or anything. These few days we have lots of tutorials, and quizzes which automatically refrains me from having a good meal. This sounds extreme, but I guess I choose to get myself busy especially after I encountered Nad at the complex yesterday, her condition and my unreplied messages bound me to get busy with anything as to not let the image of her easily cross my mind. However at some point, I lose.

“You saw her?? Are you sure? Because she has been missing class more than a week now,” Fik looked at me, expecting to hear my explanations. “Yes, I did saw her. Yesterday morning. But her expression…” I decline from telling Fik about Nad’s condition, which I don’t even know, exactly. I clenched my Blackberry while looking at disturbed looking guy standing in front of me. I remember Nad owe me a few text message replies. After the ‘meeting’ at the complex, I realized how reserved she has been. It is as if she’s hiding something. Well…

“It’s the bruises, isn’t it?” Fik actually had asked a question that came into my thoughts. The bruises are old news, but expecting to hear it from him is new news. “How’d you know?” My question is more like a demand.

“I heard it from Ami. Well, overheard, to be exact. She was having a serious conversation with Bel, in the library behind the book shelves, and I was behind their book shelves, actually searching some revision books for our group study, and I heard she mentioned the words ‘Nad’ and ‘serious bruises’.”

 Bel is also his classmate, and Ami’s good friend. While Ami is also close to Nad. What am I talking about, it doesn’t even matter.

“Well, do you know something about the bruises?” Fik asked. “I, I know a bit from Syaz. She just said that Nad wasn’t in a good condition.” I declined from mentioning about the common room incident. “Oh, but I guess everything is settled between Nad and our lecturers. None of them have mentioned anything about her absence. Besides, you know how she is, likes to ask questions, offer some of her perceptions, how could a lecturer forget about her. I wonder whatever happened to her.” Fik continued eating his half-eaten cheese burger. I looked at my untouched guava juice and Nasi Campur in front of me. Suddenly I felt that I want to pack my lunch for dinner instead. Fik’s last thoughts made me lose my appetite. We shared the same thoughts.

 

{

 

After performing the Zuhr prayer together with Fik as my Imaam at the Surau, I straight away headed towards my hostel, and to my room, declining Fik’s invitation to go to the bazaars to check on some clothes. Fik asked me a couple of hours ago when we had our lunch together, but I’ve got more important activity ahead of me. I felt bad that I had to cancel ‘till the last minute but I’ve got to prepare myself for my usrah which will be conducted soon, after Asr prayer. Today is Sunday.

Am wasn’t in the room when I got in. I guessed he would have probably gone to the bazaar too, because I heard that they are selling at discounted rates. But something different caught me as my eyes wanders at the surface of my bed. My sea blue bed sheet is now ‘decorated’ with a medium sized rectangular shaped ‘accessory’ on it. It was a book.

I picked up the book and saw the name of the authors who had been giving great impacts to the lives of the many Muslims in Malaysia. It has been a while since I’ve read their book. Looking at the cover of the book, I realized it has two stories within a book. At the top left corner of the book, it says “Tarbiyah Novel 2 in 1.” I flipped the cover page, and a familiar handwriting captured my eyes and made me smile.

 

“This book is a good read. It has ‘slapped me hard.’ Lol” – Am

 

Looking at my watch, I decided to rest for a while and have some dibs on this book, which starts with the story, entitled “Cintaku Kerana Agamamu” by Dr Farhan Hadi. I didn’t realize how time could pass by so quickly. I was already on the page 39 of the book when I heard the sound of the azan. I also realized that I’ve had some valuable information and notes for my beloved mad’us.  As what Am had stated, this book kept me mesmerized, and intrigued. It slapped me, hard.

Although I’m still at the early pages of this wonderful book, I realized that I’d forgotten some bits of the tarbiyah that I’d been exposed at, what my ustaz and ustazah had taught me before. I realized that I had made mistakes and I know I should fix them. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the book Mazha Yakni lying on the desk beside me. I also realized I easily forget what I had learned. I feel helpless knowing that I conducted an usrah and have five mad ‘us under me. Suddenly I felt that I’m not worth it and two drops of tears started to wet my cheeks.

 

{

 

“Am! Am! What’s the rush? Wait for me!! Hey… wait!” I shouted as I try as hard as I could to catch up with Am. But Am is too far now. My hope of having him to hear my calls went down together with the rain into the drain. I know he couldn’t have heard me because the rain is too heavy.

I never knew Am could run as fast as that. I guess I couldn’t outrun a rugby player, I sighed. The sound of the storm breaks my thoughts, and I realized that I need to find a shelter, fast. I think my body temperature just ascended. As I run, I looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. Where are we? I keep on running, hoping to catch up with Am.

Suddenly I heard drenched footsteps right behind me. A familiar face also came running towards my direction. “Syaz! What’s wrong? Why are you running?” I said while slowing down my pace so that Syaz could catch up with me.

But instead she outruns me, while still running towards Am’s direction, she shouted back at the rain in front of me, “Didn’t you hear about Nad? We’re going there to meet her! Hurry up!”  My pace slowed down as I heard the words coming out of Syaz’s lips. Nad? “Syaz! Wait! Going to where?? Stop running!!” I shouted back, and tried to run as fast as I could. I’m not sure what exactly is going on. The ambience surrounds me darkens, and my steps slowed down even when I tried as hard as I could to chase them.

“Am! Am!! Wait!”

“Im!! Im!! Hey, what’s wrong? Im!” A familiar voice pounds into my ears, and I could feel my shoulders being shaked. And I opened my eyes.

“Hey, you’re dreaming dude. You okay?” Im was there crouching in front of me, scratching his hair and scrubbing his sleepy eyes. My eyes darted around the ambience surrounded us. It’s the familiar room again.

“It’s 3 am dude. And you were practically shouting my name! What’s wrong? You alright?” Am looked at me with a curious and a worried look. I climbed off my bed and stand in front of my good bud. “Let’s perform qiyam together.” And we went to the bathroom to take our wudhu.

 

{

 

That night’s dream caught me on hold. I’m not sure I could understand the meanings behind the dream. Not to mention, Am and Syaz were there in my dream, and most importantly I could figure out that the dream was mainly about Nad. We were running towards her. I don’t get that bit.

I recalled the conversation I had with Am the day after I had that dream. Am’s curiosity caused me to tell him about my strange dream, and how I felt about it, and about the book he had lent to me.

“So you’re saying I was running towards Nad? Together with Syaz? But that doesn’t make sense. What connection do I have with Nad besides being her classmate? You know we’re not that close. Well, not close as in buddies.” Am said while munching the leftover snacks that we had kept on our shelves. I realized that he doesn’t know about Nad’s condition. Suddenly I felt that I should talk to Fik about this. But to think again telling Am is necessary, because he is a closer friend to me in terms of confiding secrets. Other secrets like how I felt about the book that he lent me.

But before I could say anything, a few munched snack bits fell onto my trousers; it came from Am as he exclaimed, “Ahah!! The way you tell it, it seems like a sign! Don’t you think so?? Yepp, it’s a sign, no doubt!” He looked so excited as if he had just found a precious clue to a mystery. His eyes are at dazed as he munched the snacks messily and some more of the bits fell onto my shirt and trousers. Although the falling snack bits bothered me – not just because of the snacks, I could see his saliva drops onto my shirt as well- what anxious me the most is the statement that he had just said. A sign.

I remember making a du’a that early morning, the qiyam that Am and I performed together. I asked for a sign from Him, so that the dream won’t disturb my feelings. I felt worried about Nad ever since. I texted Syaz, but her replies were common two-words ‘she’s alright.’ As if that explains Nad’s disappearance for the last two weeks.

“So what do you think?” Am’s question breaks my thoughts.

“Yeah, probably. Err, Am, I think I must tell you this.” I said while straightening up my position on my seat. Seating for quite a long time hurts my back. Well, I guessed it is because of my wrong sitting posture.

“It’s about Nad isn’t it? Look, I’m sorry that I laughed at you the last time we had this conversation.” Am’s soft voice surprised me a bit. How’d he know? Well, yes, the dream that I just told him, caused him to a speculation that Nad is the main issue here. But the voice that he used just now as if he knows something beyond the story of my first dream of Nad. Not that Nad was there, but it was about Nad. Isn’t it? But I just had to be sure.

“Yeah, you knew the dream was kind of about Nad.”

“No, the my question was not about the dream. It’s Nad that bothers you lately, isn’t it, Muhammad Aimran B. Radlan?”

The pair of eyes looking straight at me couldn’t let me slide this through. They’re as if two bolts, holding you down.

“Yes. I think it’s her. Look, I don’t understand why Nad is always there somewhere inside me that causes me to become so worried thinking about her. Just simply thinking about her caused me to become so restless. And that frightens me as well. I know I should control myself from…”

“From loving her?” Am’s words interrupt me.

“What? Love? No..!” I was startled by his ‘accusation’. Am I? Do I love her? “I was going to say, I should control myself from thinking about her almost all the time. I read the book you gave me. It means a lot to me.”

“Yeah sure, thinking about her ‘almost all the time’ is not love, and so you think after you read the book you can’t fall in love or something?” Am said while making a invisible quoting signs above his head when he mimicked what I just said.

“No, you can fall in love. It’s our fitrah. It’s just that there’s something else. And could you please listen to me before making false accusations? I’ve got other important things to tell you.” My voice ascended a bit.

“What false accusations? What other important news? Before you tell me anything can’t you just be honest with yourself first? I heard you okay. I heard you saying her name.”

“What do you mean, heard me saying her name? Like what, I called her? I’ve never called her Am.”

“You said her name last night. You thought I woke up because you were shouting my name, but actually you were shouting hers. I thought if I tell you that you wouldn’t be comfortable. But looking at you right now, trying to tell me something, I guess this is the right time I can tell you what my eyes have seen. You’ve fall for her, Im. So, what a big deal? Guys love girls. That’s normal. And I know falling in love in your term, is not just ordinary teen love. It’s more than that. So why must you deny it? You said so yourself, loving is fitrah.”

“It’s our definition of love.” I corrected him. “Ya Allah, Am, seriously? I shouted her name?” I shielded my face with my two hands. Astaghfirullah…

“Chill. You said so yourself, both Syaz and I were running towards Nad or something. No wonder you were shouting her name. I understand, and I’ll keep that between us,” he joked while moving his fingers over his mouth as if pulling a zip close.

I couldn’t even afford to smile. “I think that she’s hurt.” My one single statement caused Am to drop his snacks totally. It is good though the Tupperware lands safely on the ground without having the snacks pop out from it.

“Hurt, how?” asked Am looking confused.

“I’ve seen serious bruises on her arm, it was accidental and Fik overheard Ami’s conversation with Bel last December, also about bruises. Only that he said he didn’t hear exactly Ami said Nad is hurting because of them, but he said he was sure that he heard the words ‘Nad’ and ‘bruises’.”

Am just look straight at me.

“She is probably ill.” I continued.

“Haven’t you asked her friends? I mean, Bel and Ami would’ve known something.”

“Syaz is closer to her. And she won’t tell me a thing. Besides, it will be irrelevant if I asked Ami or Bel when I’m not that close to Nad. Supposedly”

I could hear Am exhaled heavily.

“To think again, it’s weird that none of the lecturers have asked about her absence.” I remember Fik said the same words.

“I’ll help to talk things out with Bel and Ami. Don’t you worry. Just keep on praying. He is there for you always you know. And He will protect Nad.” Am’s words consoled me a little. And yes, Nad has been in lots of my du’a already. Suddenly I remember about the common room incident, and decided to confide that to Am too.

“So that was your first time seeing those bruises? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Hmm, sounds serious indeed.” Am’s voice sounds more curious than ever.

“So, you’re helping me to ask about Nad to Ami alright?”

“Of course. Insha Allah as soon as possible. Fortunately we have group meeting tonight at the library. I’ll ask after it ends,” Am promised.

“Oh yeah, there is other thing too. It’s about the book you lent me.” I recalled how it had succeeded in grasping the deepest corner of my heart. And after finished the book the night before I had the dream, I remember I promised to myself that I’m going to become a better man, especially in terms of dealing with the opposite gender. Especially when dealing with Nad.

Nad? Did I think of that? And this is another thing that I would like to seek some Am’s opinions. He had probably just accused me of loving her, but I don’t understand my own heart.

 

The Last Time: Chapter Three (THE UNFORESEEN)

(Note for Readers: Dear readers, as I'm publishing my short novel per chapter, and for chapter 3, per part, I hope all of you won't judge some of my writings until the whole chapters being released. Some of the contents are probably distressing)

3.    THE UNFORESEEN

       Part 1

     (Nad)

 

I look at the screen of my iPhone, and re-read the newly received text. Looking at the sender, I recalled Im’s first message to me, after the incident near the common room last December.

“Assalamualaikum, Nadhia. I’m sorry if I disturb you with anything. Got your number from Syaz. I just want you to know, you don’t have to be insecure with me if we have the chance to “meet” again. And I don’t mean to be busybody but the bruises that I saw last Saturday were very serious. Are you alright? Have you gone to the medics? Well, I think it needs some treatment. Hope to hear from you soon. Im.”

No one could tell how my feeling at that time was. He sort of showed his concerns in me. But the feelings were indescribable. I thanked him, and replied that I was fine. I lied saying I got the bruises from the marathon trainings; well it makes sense if you run to a light pole. I know lying to him won’t make me feel better, won’t change anything, and simply just add my sin. O Allah, please forgive your slave. And I don’t know the causes, then.

 We exchanged texts a few times in December, mostly in the matter of studies, asking on certain matter of topics that he claimed he did not comprehend, which surprised me because Im is no ordinary student. Well to compare with me, he is. He was the President of the Medical Students’ Council back in Matriculation Center. He talks as if he is a law student. But I don’t want to get my hopes high, and so I disapprove all the thoughts that as if he really cared about me, and that he wants to know me better.

I don’t have much time for that kind of hopes. No, not much time. Im’s first message of the New Year, really motivated me, but in other way, I tried as hard as I could to take his message as a friendly text, and not more than that. After all, looking at how he greeted in the message, I assumed it's a New Year wish for all of his friends. The message was before we stumbled into each other at the stadium- yes, the awkward moment.

“Assalamualaikum to all my friends. May this January leads us closer to Him. Let’s not forget our responsibilities as duats. Being twenty sooner or later would change the fact that time doesn’t gets slower in its pace. I remember my BTQ Sir said that ‘who are going to spread the true message of Islam, if it’s not all of you (referring to us students) who learn about it quite thoroughly here. What can you do for Islam? You should ask yourselves that question every day when you wakes up in the morning…’ Well something like that. I hope each of us would not let go of our responsibilities that we have. Let’s strive harder each and every day to become a better Mukmin.  In (63:8): ‘And the greatness (only) belongs to Allah, and His Messenger, and the Mukminoon’. J Im”

Not shortly after we met coincidentally at the stadium, I got a text from Im. It was dated 2^nd January and the time was 4 pm. He asked why I cried that morning. He asked if I got hurt again. He asked again where I’ve been these entire long. And to the extent, saying that I shouldn’t keep everything to myself. Also asking whether Syaz knows about my condition, well we being best buddies and all, because Syaz isn’t telling anything to him or to anyone. Well I made her do that. I replied;

“Wassalam, Im. This morning was very awkward and odd. I know. No, I wasn’t crying because of what you said, somewhat hurt? I wasn’t. (Well, I wasn’t really crying because of the bruises I’ve got) Don’t, worry. Syaz knows about whatever that is happening to me. And it’s not like I prefer to keep everything to myself, it’s just that sometimes, things are better left unspoken.

Please, just don’t bother about me. You could just imply that I’ve got problems that I don’t wish to share it to the world. And that’s why I’m not the same anymore. All the best always, Im. May Allah ease everything for you. Nad “

Three days have passed since I showed my red-rimmed eyes to Im at the stadium. Three days have passed since my Converse stepped onto the red pavement of IIUM’s entrance. And three days have passed since I left home and got re-admitted to the hospital.  Today marks the date January the 4^th.

And the text? Of course he replied back and asked more questions that I know he could guess I’m not going to reply them. I never bother to reply it. I turned my head to the right side of the room, and look at the calendar that is placed next to me on the side table. 20 more days to go and I’m officially 20 years old. I heard the door creaked open, and a medium-height, good looking guy came towards me, behind him, a woman of mid-thirties is carrying a tray, on it a small cup of tablets.

The doctor smiled at me and said, “Are you ready for the treatment, Nadhia? You have to take your pills first and after 2 hours Miss Husna will administer your medication.” I just nodded. I took my pills, and lie down again. Mom is at work again after taking care of me overnight, but dad will join mom later to accompany me undergoing my first “treatment”.

I suddenly remember the memory of 3 weeks old; the last time when I ran away from Miss Lisa, the last time when I finally understood the reasons behind those bruises.

 

                                                                                    {

 

I was home shortly after my mom called me she would fetch me from my hostel on that day Miss Lisa found out about my bruises. “Miss Lisa called me and told me what happened. We’ll deal with her later but now let me see the bruises.” Obediently, I allow my mother to examine me.

Worriedly she said, “There really are lots of bruises, honey. Are you sure you don’t where you got them?” “No, I don’t. Its okay mom, I feel fine. It’s probably the flu.” But mom wasn’t buying it. She then grabs the car keys and said, “Get ready, we’ve got to go and see the doctor.”

 I touched the glands in my neck and realized they were swollen. I can’t get sick now I’ve got a major debate competition coming up in less than 6 weeks, not to mention the new semester is starting in a month. After 45 minutes’ drive, we’ve arrived at the General Hospital. Dr Mila, welcomed us with her warm smile, a pretty woman in the late thirties, has always been one of my favourite doctors.

Our last meeting was when I was 10, I’ve got viral fever, and she took care of me with so much attention. Dr Mila’s examination was routine. She checked me with sure, confident fingers, feeling my swollen glands and bruises, and then takes my blood sample. I squeezed my eyes shut as the needle pricked my right arm.

“It’s just flu, isn’t it Doctor?” I asked as Dr Mila secured my puncture with a bandage. On some point I felt that mom’s idea of bringing me here is a good one, because I could never been less than curious ever since I got these bruises and just now realized that my glands are swollen too.

Dr Addin gave me a professional non-committal smile. “It’s something. We can’t be sure with that yet.” “What do you think it is?” My mom asked uneasily. “I don’t like the look of those bruises. And you young girl, should’ve told me earlier. Dad is going to be cross with this and worried sick too.”

Mom looked at me with a sad face. I never meant to worry her; I don’t want to become a trouble in our “new” family. Things were getting fine since two years ago, but now? I just want to go back home and have some rest, while hoping that tomorrow everything will return back as normal. Normal like a month ago.

Dr Mila breaks my thought by saying, “It could be as simple as anaemia. That is common in girls as early as sixteen.” “Then I’ll take iron pills,” I said, relieved. “Nadhia made the International Debate Competition,” my mother said, as if that might influence the doctor in some way.

“I can go back to the college, can’t I?” I asked. But Dr Mila didn’t respond to either of us, instead she made her way to the peach coloured door and said, “I want to check a blood smear under the microscope. I’ll be right back.” I turned towards mom and said, “It’s going to be alright mom,” and I put my arms around her neck and hug her.

Frankly, I had been feeling bad about this, worried about myself and been asking what has been happening to myself all along. “Insha Allah, let’s hope so.” My mom reassured me with another long and big hug. Dr Mila returned her expression unreadable. She positioned herself in front of me. “Your red blood count is low…”

I gave a quick relief smile. “Then just write me a prescription on iron pills. I’ll take them truly. I promise” I said while gesturing a “scouts’ honour”. She held up her hand. “Whoa it’s not that simple. Your white blood cells on the other hand is rather high, Nadhia.” 

 

“So?” I asked, puzzled.

             “So, I will need you to stay here for a few days for testing.”

            I think my heart might have stopped beating. The hospital? “The hospital, doctor?” My mom said my thought aloud. “Is it really necessary? Is it really serious? I can’t afford to leave college now. We’ve got preparations before the debate competition. And it’s less than 10 weeks from now,” I protested.

 “Is this absolutely necessary Dr Mila?” Mom’s voice sounded tense. The doctor with the black rimmed-spectacles answered, “Yes. It’s imperative that we find out what’s ailing Nadhia.” I wanted to ask what is she testing for, but I could sense that Dr Mila won’t tell me.

Instead I asked, “When do I have to go Doctor?” “The sooner, the better. My receptionist will call and have your admitting papers prepared by tomorrow.” She said and gave me a comfort pat on the shoulder.

The next thing I know I’m admitted to the hospital, got a pint of blood a day, Syaz going crazy because I never confide to her about me not feeling well lately, and the biggest thing that became less bigger after I found out what bugs me is the bone marrow aspiration on the 7^th day of my stay at the “Hotel General”.

I nervous-laugh whenever my parents or my sister asked about my condition, and Syaz kept treating me as if I’m a little girl who needs full attention, I acted all courageous whenever they were around. I even reminded Syaz to take all notes that I’ll miss during lectures, and keep all of my assignments. But when visiting hours were over, I was left alone, I plucked the bed sheets and the bravado drowned with the night sounds that echoed around me. I was scared.

My lips can’t stop from reciting dzikr, and like my dad always said to me when things are tough, “do lots of dzikr of Ya Haleem (The Most Compassionate), Ya Muhaymin (The Guardian) and Ya Salam (The Source of Peace) besides keep reciting Ayatul Kursi and the three Quls (Surah Al Ikhlas, Al Falaq, An Naas)”. And I found out the right side of the pillow was drenched with my tears the next morning.

The D-Day; bone marrow aspiration. The technicians came for me early in the morning. The first thing that they did was electrocardiogram. This was to rule out the rheumatic fever, the woman in the blue lab coat said. I asked, “Rheumatic fever causes heart damage, isn’t it?” But as soon as I uttered the question, the thought terrified me.

 “What causes it?” I asked again. Although I might have a hunch because I remember Fik asked about in in our last lecture to Sir Rahman. “Untreated strep,” the nurse said. I swallowed against my scratchy throat. Could I have had strep throat and overlooked it long enough to have caused rheumatic fever to develop?

However, the bone marrow aspiration was not less pleasant then the electrocardiogram. They placed me on the examination table on my stomach, with a pillow tucked under my pelvis. The nurse cleaned my hip area with iodine and next, she applied a cooling spray which she explained “this is a local anaesthetic, Nadhia. It will numb the site so you won’t feel anything while the needle is going in. We’ll insert it in the spongy part of the bone where your marrow is manufactured and don’t worry, it won’t take but a few seconds to withdraw the cells we required for the lab analysis.”

It annoys me a little that she had to explain this basic knowledge. I clutched the metal edge of the table, determined to hold my pupils focus on the cream coloured wall in front of me and not being distracted with the syringe that looked a foot long. I gritted my teeth as pressure, then pain, overcame me. It felt as if a vacuum sucked something from inside of me. It was horrible.

                                                                                {

 

“If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it” I slide through my iPhone and saw this quote from someone’s Tumblr. The next picture said, “Allah won’t burden you with something you couldn’t bear.” I realized this quote is taken from a Quranic verse. Tears drop slowly from my eyes as I browse through the pictures that eventually motivate me. Ya Allah, I don’t know if I could endure this test, this seems unbearable. But I also don’t know what’s Your plan, and I surrender everything to You. Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem, please give me strength.

My lips trembled as tears kept flowing, and I couldn’t stop recite the istighfar as I recalled the conversations I had with Dr Mila and my family in the ward just half an hour ago, after we have the results from the bone marrow test.

 

                                                                              {

 

I laughed a nervous laugh. Dr Mila sounded irrational and my family, hovering around my bed with disturbed looks, which reminds me of a silent movie. “I don’t believe you. You have been mistaken. I’m going twenty in less than a month. I’m still young, how could I possibly have leukaemia?”

Dr Mila slightly squeezed my arm and said, “The bone marrow aspiration confirmed it, Nadhia. Leukaemia is a blood disorder. It occurs when young white blood cells reproduce abnormally and crowd out the normal ones. They take up the spaces of red blood cells and platelets. Platelets cause your blood to clot normally and because your supply is low, that’s why you get bruises easily. Without enough red blood cells to carry oxygen, you become anaemic. That’s the reason why you’ve become tired all the time, and you always look pale.”

Tears weld up in my eyes, and as dad touched my arm, mom approached me and hugged me, and Nasuha, my younger and only sister, looked at me with sad looking eyes, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore. I cried, hard, and I never thought I could cry as much as this.

I heard dad almost whispered ‘innalillah…’ Mom wiped the non-stop flowing tears on my cheeks, and comfortingly said, “Insha Allah, we will fight it Nadhia. We’ve got the best medical help available. We will fight it.” Dr Mila cleared her throat. “Over the past few years Medicine has made great advancements for different kinds of leukaemia treatment. Despite the fact that we have no cure for the disease, we do have sophisticated ways of dealing with it, insha Allah. The vital thing now is Nadhia should begin treatment as soon as possible.”

“What kind of treatment?” Dad and I asked at the same time. “Traditional treatments include chemotherapy. Once we initiate chemo, we’ll expect an improvement. It will take several days to establish the right combination of drugs, but our goal is to get you into remission as quickly as possible. Remission is a decrease, sometimes a reversal, of your symptoms. After we achieve remission you will go on to maintenance.”

Dr Mila continued, “Once initial treatments do their job and healthy blood-forming tissue begins to regrow, you’ll take oral medication. You only have to come to the clinic every few weeks for testing and possible further IV chemotherapy. The longer you remain in remission, the better your chances for complete recovery.”

“And if there is no recovery?” My mind was spinning, but somehow the question popped out from my mouth. Dr Mila’s expression grew sombre, and she touched my arm; her eyes are filled with deep empathy. “I believe in being honest with my patients, Nadhia, because being truthful is necessary for them to actively participate in the treatment of their disease. I’m not going to lie to you, but I won’t be leaving with you without hope either. If you remain in a continuous first remission for five years, we considered you cured.”

 “And if I don’t?” “We shall try for second remission. We also consider a bone marrow transplant. That’s mean we graft healthy marrow from a biologically compatible donor into your marrow.” Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by too much information from Dr Mila and my head felt like it’s going to split into two. Ya Allah, why me? Tears kept flowing and dad grab a hold of me. I shield my face onto his chest, and keep on sobbing on his shirt.

I couldn’t stand anymore information from Dr Mila. Mercifully, my mother interrupted. “What are you going to do with Nadhia right now?” “Today we will do a lumbar puncture. We’ll take fluid from around Nadhia’s spinal cord and examine it to determine whether the leukemic cells have invaded your central nervous system. That test will also help us to decide on the best drugs combination to begin fighting your leukaemia.”

I suddenly realized that my body has become a war zone. My internal defences no longer controlled whatever happens inside me.

“When will you start the drugs?”

“Tomorrow.”

“That soon?”

“Clinically, the disease progresses rapidly. We must begin the test immediately.” The warmth of Dr Mila’s hands on my bare arm caused me to nod almost subtly. “Do it, so that I could be as soon as possible at home.”

 

                                                                     {

 

            2 hours has passed, and Miss Husna came in with Dr Mila and the handsome doctor, Dr Hafiz. “Okay Nur Nadhia Rania, your treatment shall begin now.”