Sisters torn apart by the fragility of the heart, how can love possibly hurt so much?
Hana Junaid decided two years ago, distance would make her younger sister Hanaan more independent but Hanaan's love and yearning for Hana during this time has drow...
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Dadi takes me to visit Hanaan at the hospital and the pep talk I give myself before entering her room goes down the drain as soon as we reach its threshold. Dadi's hand clasps mine before I see what she has. If she is violating her own personal space like this, it has to something very heart-wrenching, I look up from my shoes, at the room and-
Ya Allah.
My heart lurches from my ribcage to my throat. I clutch at the emptiness where a black hole remains and makes my blood curdle, my body pinch and causes my nails to go cold.
"Dadi?" I whisper.
She squeezes my hand and pulls me away, falling down on a chair in the corridor outside.
Is Hanaan's soul being ripped out?
I'm still standing facing her room, my arm held out, my hand in my Dadi's watching stupefied as doctors and nurses scurry about the bed in chaos, one is holding a syringe, another is changing the bag on the IV, another is adjusting the pin inserted in Hanaan's hand and one is trying to pin my writhing sister's body back on the bed all the while they shout instructions to one another.
I watch, holding my heart at the frenzy in front of me. I didn't expect this to be the very first sight of my sister in five days ever since she collapsed. As I'm standing in the doorway, having taken so much mental strength to muster up the bravery to visit her, hold her hand and try to forgive her until she actually wakes up, this is what I get to see.
Her body is taken over by convulsions. Her eyes are wide open. She's awake, that is for sure but she's not looking at us around her. It's like she's looking at some other existences in the room that now make me wary of their possibility. Is she seeing the demons that haunt her? And she's thrashing, arms and legs flailing about, the heart monitor by her side beeps like crazy, the line on it spiking up and down signalling Hanaan's rapid heartbeat. She's screaming. She's screaming for help.
I don't know what takes over me, I throw my tote bag by Dadi's feet, not caring of the books inside that may get damaged and haunt me forever in life. I dart in and straight towards the bed, claw my way through the nurses and doctors dressed in scrubs and lab coats, the ultimate uniform I want to see myself in but in this plain floral kurta over a plain black trouser and a chadar covering me from my shoulders and below, I push through to my sister.
Someone calls out, telling me not to interfere. Someone tries pulling me back asking me who am I and have I lost my way? Someone asks someone else if I'm even allowed in here.
I am Hana Junaid. This is my sister.
"Hanaan," I call out, reaching for her shoulders. The nurse tries prying me away, but I shrug her off. I take hold of Hanaan's shoulders again and with all my strength push her down on the mattress, my one knee purged on the side of the bed and I probe deep into her eyes, heart still in my throat. "Hanaan!"
