(This post was written in November, 2021)
‘She is no more’ read the first text I read as soon as I woke up on a Friday morning. I was numb. I thought I read the text wrong. I ran to my husband to make sense of the message. He sadly said me the text means exactly what I understood it as. Numb again!
It has been 7+ months since then..
…since I lost an old friend/ roommate of mine. I often process my grief and sorrow through words. But I could not write this down. Because expressing it in words would mean acceptance. Acceptance was hard. Being numb to it was easier. Believing she was there alive and living happilly with her family was easier than to accept the reality.
Why did the news of her death affect me so much? Was it because we were roomates for a year? Or that we were if the same age with similar family backgrounds? Or that we had children of similar age? Or that both of us had two younger brothers whom we adored and talked about often?
Two years ago when I rejoined clinic after a maternity break and needed more certificates from my college, I was so anxious on how to procure it. I was not in a position to travel to Bangalore then neither could any of my family members. I hesitatingly pinged her and asked her if she could do me a favour. She readily agreed, went to my college, applied for the certificates, waited a few days for it get issued, went for the second time, paid and even couriered it to me from Bangalore to Doha. Since I had a deadline of 30 days to submit the transcripts so as to keep my medical license active, I was quite anxious and worried about the whole thing. Sensing the anxiety in my voice, she added a ‘Please, Very urgent’ on the envelope.
I kept the envelope and the address with me so as to return some gifts for her and her kids, once things got stable with me. I never did and it aches within…
Over the course of past two years, i have submitted those documents for interviews and jobs and everytime I made dua for her…
Little did I know then…
A year ago, we lamented about the pandemic and how it screwed all our plans. We talked about our younger brothers and how much we all have come on in life. Alhamdulilah. Little did I know then…
When I went to Bangalore, as a single practising hijab clad girl, my dad advised me, “Be strong on your faith and true to yourself. Allah will grant you ease by way of people who will hep you” Alhamdulilah. That’s exactly what happened. She and her family has only shown me kindness the four years I lived in their hostel. She invited me to her grannys house to spent Eid together since I was alone in the hostel. Her family made things easy for me during Ramadan or when I was sick or when things got difficult for me. May Allah make things easy for them.
On the 27th of Ramadan, she messaged me from the ICU and asked me to remember her in my duas. Four days later, she was gone.
I have not stopped thinking about her since then..
Everyday when I get ready for my work, I make a dua for her. Every time I hear the peacefull lull of my children as they sleep, I remember her and her tiny tots.
Her death reminded me to do similar acts of kindess and help to others when they ask me. So that when I am gone, that single simple Act can be my legacy of memory in their mind and maybe that inspires them to make a tiny dua for me…
Along with grief, I also feel a sense of guilt. Why are some given a little more breaths than others? Am I utilizing the time I have been given? Am I being kind to my children? Am I mindful and present with them? So many thoughts.
I make dua for her. For her children. For they are going to have the same experience as my beloved – of losing a parent so early on in life. I can’t even…💔 May Allah grant them ease in their every day matters.
May the goodness and kindness she has done in this life increase the weight of her Meezan.
Make a dua for my friend, Monezza.
Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ileyhi Rajioon. To Him we Belong, To Him we Return.