In the name of Allah, the Owner of Love and Passion.
Okay, just a random title. Really. It has nothing to do with this entry.
This entry is about a pleasant dream I had last night. It was sad but sweet. About a love relationship between a man and his wife. Don't read this if you don't like romance. Cheers. :')
-----o-----
Your Beautiful Soul
He was right in front of the door that leads to his happiness. A brownish yellow envelope he held tightly to his chest. This cannot be true, he said to himself for God-knows how many times. He just could not bring himself past the very door. There was pain and solitude in his distant eyes.
Slowly, he closed his eyes as he breathed in quietly trying to take in all he just heard. The doctor's voice is as clear as his own heartbeats:
"I'm really sorry to have to tell you this: The result of your diagnosis indicates that there are five tumours around your left brain. That's why you have been suffering that tremendous headache you described to me. If only you came to hospital earlier . . ."
And he only had about a year or so to live. How was he supposed to tell that to the one whom he had promised to grow old with?
***
"Assalaamu'alaikum."
There was no answer.
He went in. No one at home. Lisa still in her office, he thought. It was nearly end of the year and she usually has loads of work to finish, with accounts and credits and what other things an accountant has to do which he found to be unimportant for an English lecturer like him to understand. But she loved her job and that is enough of a reason for him to let her work.
He looked around and found a note his wife left in the kitchen telling him that she would be home late tonight. There laid his favourite dishes for dinner on the dining table. Seems like she came back to cook during her lunchtime, he smiled.
After shower, he performed Isyak prayer and read the Holy Quran. Reading the Kalaamullah is always his best remedy whenever he is at his lowest - it cheers him up because it feels like the Almighty Himself is talking to him. Such peace, such tranquility. He knew no other peace like this except during prayers and when accompanied by the love of his life. He was so immersed in the reading of the Holy Scripture until he came to a verse that drew tears from his eyes. It says:
"To every people is a term appointed: When their term is reached, not an hour can they delay; nor (an hour) can they advance (it in anticipation)."[al-A'raaf, 7:34]
He stopped there. Images from the past filled his vision one after another: The loving faces of his late parents. The tenderness in Lisa's eyes and her beautiful smile on their wedding day - the day when they promised to one another that they will live their lives following the Prophet's tradition as best they could and to be honest to one another about anything and everything. Tears welled up in his eyes because he knew if the news had hurt him, it would her even more. Then how was he supposed to tell her?
And he fell to sleep without realising that the well-upped tears streamed down his cheeks and a few teardrops dripped onto the Scripture on his lap.
***
"Abang," a soft voice rubbed against his right ear. "Why sleep on the prayer mat? Have you taken your dinner yet?"
"Lisa, you're home." He glanced at where the tears had dropped onto the Quran before putting the scripture back to the high-shelves where it belongs. Then she neared his husband in her work attire and shook his hands and kissed them. She looked as pretty as always, he thought - her innocent eyes of patience that had seen through their ups and downs, her beautiful lips of wisdom that had given him advices and reminders when he needed them most.
"No, sayang. I was waiting for you."
"Abang, let's eat together."
For the first time in their five years of married life that the dining table felt this quiet and cold. They quarrelled and argued about many things every now and then, but they always found a way to make things up whenever they faced one another - looking in each other's eyes, at this very table. There were always jokes and laughters surrounding the atmosphere of their dining table whenever they were having dinner together, not even once they were quiet.
"Abang," said Lisa softly, almost whispering.
"Yes, sayang?"
"Why you're so quiet today?" She looked at her husband unblinking. She knew there was something wrong but assumption was not her game. She wanted to know from him if he were not well.
"How was your work today, sayang?"
"Abang, I think you're not well. You look pale and . . ."
"Had I been a good husband to you?" There was loneliness in his tone and she could feel it. She approached him from the back and embraced him as she answered:
"You needn't ask that, abang. Why, you're the best man I've ever known after my late father," She leaned her head against him until her cheek rubbing his, "and I thank Allah for letting me be the happiest woman by being your wife."
"Thank you," he said weakly.
"Do you still remember," she now sat next to him with his big hands in her small tender hands, "I was a heartbroken girl, fragile to this world and I couldn't believe in any guys because I was betrayed by the one man I used to love? It was you who came to me and opened my heart when you asked for my hands in marriage. And I thank Allah and you for that."
"And do you still remember," she lifted his hands and rubbed her right cheek against them, "every time I was down and stressed by monstrous workloads, it was you who were always there for me whispering supportive and kind words despite your own stress. Your love notes, the beautiful roses, the unexpected gifts - all those made my day. And I thank Allah and you for that."
She smiled softly and said, "Now you have this massive burden loaded on your shoulders, why not share it with me? Didn't Allah promised us that He will not burden us with things we cannot bear? Trust Him and trust me. We'll get through whatever obstacles He tests us with."
Hearing this, he remembered the verse damped with his tears from the Scripture. It says:
"But those who believe and work righteousness, no burden do We place on any soul but that which it can bear..."[al-A'raaf, 7:42]
"I'm sorry, sayang. I was being selfish just now. We promised to be honest but I-"
She put her index finger onto his lips. "Hush," she said. "No sorries."
"Okay. I went for a medical check-up today because I had a severe headache. I thought of getting MC for a day or two but I received an unexpected news," he stopped and looked at her tender face, a-waiting with patience.
"The doctor confirmed that I have brain cancer. There are three tumours around my left head. They are still small now, but in a year they will . . . and I may not . . ."
There were tears in her eyes but she was still smiling. She recited two verses from the Holy Quran:
"So, verily, with every difficulty there is relief. Verily, with every difficulty there is relief."[al-Inshirah, 94:5-6]
He wiped her tears and as much, he wanted to chase away the fear hiding behind her calm, patient eyes. He knew her well - of her fears, of her insecurities. He felt sorry for her more than he felt sorry for himself.
"I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise to grow old with you and watch our kid become a good Muslim, better than any of us. Yet I-"
"Abang, I said no more sorries."
And there was silence.
". . . what if I don't remember you anymore when my cancer gets worse?" he asked solemnly.
"I'll remind you about us, of our memories together - every day!"
". . . what if-"
"We'll get through. Don't worry, abang. We'll get through everything together."
And there was a long silence.
"Thank you, Lisa," he drew his wife closer to his chest and hugged her tight as if he were not letting her go, forever. And he kissed her forehead passionately, "I love you."
"I love you too, abang."
-----o-----
Okay, my dream was not this detailed. I made up many parts of this story to suit my taste and creativity. Which part is originally from my dream, I wouldn't tell. So don't bother to ask,okay? :'P
"O Allah! Grant us with life partner and children who can bring us peace and tranquility, not ones who will cost us our Imaan. And we beseech Thee, o the Almighty Allah! Send Thy assistance to our oppressed brothers in Palestine. Indeed, without Thy help, we are all weak and powerless."
