Finding Muna: A Palestinian Novel

Chapter Twenty Three

Mahmud felt like a part of him had died with his wife, he struggled to stand firm on his feet as he watched as her body was slowly lowered into the grave. His heart was beating fast against his chest and he tried to control the urge to jump inside the grave and be buried with her.

Slowly, the men started to cover the grave with soil, his blood began to boil as he watched them throw dirt on his wife. He was about to move towards them angrily but the man beside him stopped him before he could. His grip on Mahmud's hand was inhumanely strong, the firm and authoritative look on his face made Mahmud stay in his spot.

He stood there uncomfortably as they filled his wife's grave with more and more dirt, he could hardly see her at that point, and no matter how much tears was on his face, the men wouldn't stop what they were doing.

His knees couldn't keep him up any longer and he fell to the ground and covered his face as he cried.

Ya Allah, his wife, his partner, his other half was gone. Lying inside the earth, almost fully covered up with dirt. He wouldn't be opportune to see her any longer, not her smile, not her frown, not her anger or advices.

His Amina had returned to her creator.

Now what?

How would he return back home without both his daughter and wife? How would he return to the hospital to pack her remaining belongings and what would he do with it? How would he deal with the absence of the most important people in his life? How would he tell Muna that her mother had died?

He asked himself but couldn't answer. He wished it was just a very scary dream he would wake up from soon.

The men around tried to pacify him as they levelled the ground but he couldn't handle it. He hurried towards the spot she was buried and laid face down, crying his eyes out as he continuously yelled out her name.

He was dragged from the spot and forced to sit on a chair, and no matter how much he resisted, they didn't allow him to get up.

"Assalaamu alaikum warahmatullah wabarakatuh," the imam greeted the crowd and they all responded.
(Peace, mercy and blessing of Allah be upon you)

"As we've all seen, Mrs. Amina Saleh who I believe we all know through her husband had returned to her Lord today," he said and everyone fell quiet, watching him with gloom on their faces.

"This should be a reminder to everyone that death comes by without warning, this should be a reminder to everyone that we would all leave this world sooner or later no matter what, we don't know who is next in this gathering."

"It could be me, it could be you. But what's important is, are we prepared? We should imagine ourselves in the state sister Amina is in right now, may Allah forgive her sins. Would we be safe? From both the punishment of hellfire and that of the grave?"

"Her accountability starts the moment we all step away from here and we pray Allah makes it easy on our sister, but what if it was you or I? Are we confident to some extent that we would be safe in the grave or otherwise?"

"This is one of the virtues of coming to a funeral, it gets you thinking. From what I heard today, sister Amina was perfectly fine earlier this morning, she went out for fresh air and then she was shot, Subhanallah. And we can't deny hearing of so many cases where people just sleep and never wake up, or probably having a headache or neck pain and before anyone knows it, they're gone."

"Shouldn't that get up thinking my dear brothers? The line between death and life is a very thin one, and once the person's gone, then he's gone, then there's no more remedy. But there is remedy now that we're still alive my brothers; you can fix your relationship with Allah if it's not one you're proud of."