I took this down after I published it last night due to some technical errors. Anyways, here it is again.
Please leave me LOTS AND LOTS of comments! :)
16] Flashback # 3
It was a chilly, yet pleasant morning. The sun was hidden behind the clouds and the leaves lightly danced in the light breeze. However, Falak was feeling quite the opposite.
I cannot do this alone.
I do not know how to.
Is it even possible?
Wrapped only in a shawl, Falak held her head in her hands as she sat in the waiting room of Civil Military Hospital Lahore. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, rolling down to her neck, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. She didn't even know that she was weeping, because all she could think of her only family. A piece of her heart. Her son.
There were a few others in the waiting room, a couple of them even tried to make light conversation, but they all had their own worries. No one had time to bother about a frail woman, silently crying in a corner. After all, no one comes to the hospital for fun. Everyone has a fair share worries. Especially when they are sitting just outside the Operation theatre.
The only difference between Falak and the others was that, none of them were alone. They all had the support of their loved ones. They had someone to hold their hand, look them in the eye with compassion, give them a reassuring smile, and tell them that everything was going to be alright.
If Falak weren't so worried, she would have viewed all those people bitterly. Everyone takes these things for granted. They don't know the worth of having someone to rely upon. Falak was one of those once. Only when she was deprived of this blessing, she realised the importance, the comfort of having company.
Guilt and Loneliness. These two things can make a person want to disappear from the face of the Earth. Falak was experiencing both of these at the moment.
Why couldn't I have taken him to the hospital a bit earlier? She questioned herself.
Earlier that morning, when Falak had prayed fajr and was about to go wake up Haider, he heard her call her. Immediately, she knew that something was wrong.
"Mama!" He shouted and it took Falak only a second to rush to his room, stumbling her way there.
Haider was curled up on his bed and was clutching his stomach in pain.
"What's wrong?" Falak asked, urgency laced in her voice.
In answer, Haider could only groan in pain.
Wasting not a second further, Falak rushed to her room, grabbed her shawl, slipped on her slippers, grabbed her car keys and rushed back to her son in pain.
She picked up Haider's slippers and slid them on his feet and then lifted him in her arms.
How could such a thin, short woman lift a strong, nine year old boy, who is quite tall for his age?
A mother's strength can never be doubted when it is required for her child. It is immeasurable.
Falak sauntered out of her apartment, somehow managed to lock it and made her way down the stairs to the ground floor. With great difficulty, she made her way to the parking lot and laid her son in the back seat of her car.
Falak drove as fast as she could. The sun had not risen and there were scarcely any cars on the roads.
Lahore is a very populated city, but luckily, due to the early hour, Falak managed to reach the hospital in a quite short time. She rushed to the emergency and urgently asked for help. A stretcher was sent to her car and Haider was brought inside.
YOU ARE READING
His Land Called
Spiritual-Complete- He was her guide, And she was his darling. He was her rock, And she was his home. He was her ease, And she was his joy. He was her love, And she was his world, But he was a man with a duty, And he had to answer when his land called. ▪•▪•...
