I was on the way to work this morning, waiting for the LRT to be exact, at Terminal Putra when I received a call. Since I didn’t have the number in my address book (thanks to Raqib), I didn’t know who it was. The caller told me that her daughter has passed away and asked me to spread the news. I was a little surprised. I didn’t know who this person was. How could I spread the news? So reluctantly, I asked the caller’s name, and was quite surprised to know that she is actually quite a close friend. The minute she told me who she was, I immediately knew which daughter she was talking about. And after that, I was TRULY shocked.
Little Alya was adorable. She spoke really good English. The first time I laid eyes on her, I found her quite fascinating. Her curly hair, dreamy eyes, and soft brown skin were not of those her mother’s. In fact, she didn’t look like her mother at all. She inherited her looks from her father.
I nearly broke down in the LRT. But because there were so many people, I controlled myself. She had pneumonia and virus infections. She was admitted into the hospital on Sunday, but passed away on Tuesday. It was really hard for me to take. My friend however appeared very calm. She didn’t cry, but I did hear sadness in her voice. Alya was her eldest. The younger was a boy.
We hung up, and I was really fighting for self-control. My son, Raqib, was recently admitted to the hospital for asthma and secondary pneumonia. Luckily for us, he was alright. He’s asthmatic now, but at least he’s ok. I just have to monitor his medication. The day that he was admitted, he was very sick. He looked like he was fading away from me. He wouldn’t eat, and wouldn’t sleep. He didn’t even want any of my breast milk. I was so sad. And I fought the urge to cry in front of him. I prayed to Allah to make him better. I couldn’t bear to see him like that. He just lay on the sofa. Even his voice couldn’t be heard. Whenever he called for me, his voice sounded so faint. That night, when we went to the hospital, he was immediately on the drip. We stayed at the hospital for three days. He has recovered from his pneumonia but he is now asthmatic.
I feel for Asfa. Who wouldn’t? She has just lost her daughter. It is not an easy thing to endure. When she came to my wedding, she was pregnant with Alya. After that, she experienced giving birth to Alya. She was there when she was sick, when she was happy, when she learnt to step on her own two feet, and when she spoke her first words.
Allah loves her more.
I pray that Allah too gives Asfa the strength that she needs to continue her life. Al-Fatihah.
Little Alya was adorable. She spoke really good English. The first time I laid eyes on her, I found her quite fascinating. Her curly hair, dreamy eyes, and soft brown skin were not of those her mother’s. In fact, she didn’t look like her mother at all. She inherited her looks from her father.
I nearly broke down in the LRT. But because there were so many people, I controlled myself. She had pneumonia and virus infections. She was admitted into the hospital on Sunday, but passed away on Tuesday. It was really hard for me to take. My friend however appeared very calm. She didn’t cry, but I did hear sadness in her voice. Alya was her eldest. The younger was a boy.
We hung up, and I was really fighting for self-control. My son, Raqib, was recently admitted to the hospital for asthma and secondary pneumonia. Luckily for us, he was alright. He’s asthmatic now, but at least he’s ok. I just have to monitor his medication. The day that he was admitted, he was very sick. He looked like he was fading away from me. He wouldn’t eat, and wouldn’t sleep. He didn’t even want any of my breast milk. I was so sad. And I fought the urge to cry in front of him. I prayed to Allah to make him better. I couldn’t bear to see him like that. He just lay on the sofa. Even his voice couldn’t be heard. Whenever he called for me, his voice sounded so faint. That night, when we went to the hospital, he was immediately on the drip. We stayed at the hospital for three days. He has recovered from his pneumonia but he is now asthmatic.
I feel for Asfa. Who wouldn’t? She has just lost her daughter. It is not an easy thing to endure. When she came to my wedding, she was pregnant with Alya. After that, she experienced giving birth to Alya. She was there when she was sick, when she was happy, when she learnt to step on her own two feet, and when she spoke her first words.
Allah loves her more.
I pray that Allah too gives Asfa the strength that she needs to continue her life. Al-Fatihah.
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