I crawled over, the pain in my stomach clawing at me like a furious scorpion, ripping through my insides.
The pain made me double over and I fell to the ground, dry heaving repeatedly as if my organs would emit next.
There was no one I could call for help,no one to turn to… What had I done? ? Why had I done it?? Why?
The silence of the forest echoed against the furious palpitating of my heart.
I wasn’t sure if the filth in my heart or the filth in my stomach was worse.
I felt something in my eyes that I had not felt in a long,long time. Tears. I was shocked, I was so far gone,so deep down the black hole, that I didn’t think I could ever cry again&somewhere in the painful red haze of my mind, I heard his voice, the one I’d left.
“Do you know,two drops are most beloved to Allah? A teardrop that falls because of regret over ones disobedience to Allah and a drop of blood shed in the path of Allah. That’s all I want, to keep shedding both these drops for Him, my life is worth something then. What is a life without Allah?”
I felt the cold mud seep into my knees and palms and felt the dam in my chest burst wide open.
I sobbed loudly,in despair,my tears falling relentlessly as the wind howled along with me,whipping the leaves away from the trees I sheltered under,Cold,hungry,lost. I forgot Him,so I forgot myself or I would not have been like this today.
Chachi shouted up the staircase and I shoved the book amongst other things and bounded down.
“What were you doing up there for so long?” “I found some stuff that I’ve never seen anyone use And a diary, so I got caught up.”
“be careful what you go looking into Johi,sometimes you’ll wish you never did.
I wish I didn’t have to carry so many secrets of others around…” “Are you talking about my mother Chachi?”
“What about me?” Ammi walked into the room. “Nothing Memsaab, she’s always asking questions ,our little one.” Chachi smoothly changed the topic as she folded another set of pashmina shawls.
Later that afternoon.
“There you go. You’re ready. Take care of your mother Johi.” I nodded solemnly at Chahcha. There was a whisper of worry on his face,that in the innocence of my childhood,I could not fathom.
The driver started the car and off we went. As always, the beauty of my homeland, its snowcapped mountains that looked dusted with icing sugar, its lush scarlet fields of poppies, the carpet of purple saffron flowers with labourers toiling over them, the rivers that ran like a pretty ribbon through out…it filled my throat with joy and I whispered…”SubhanAllah” and in the recesses of my mind I thought of my father and Zulfikr saying it repeatedly, reminding me to build my Jannah,to plant a tree by saying SubhanAllah. That this world was nothing compared to the hereafter.
I idly wondered how Zulfikr was as I surreptitiously felt the hidden secret within my bag.Who knew what this holiday would bring?