Spritual Series ♥

♥ Spritual Series Part : 06 ♥

"Verily, you will never leave anything for the sake of Allah almighty but that allah will replace it with something better"

~Prophet Muhammad (pbuh)
Musnad Ahmed 22565

TELL ME, IS THIS THE END OF THE WORLD? The sound of alarm tore the sublime silence of the dark room. Nimble fingers fumbled for the phone. Abeer's eyes opened to the poster of Harley Davidson on the wall, pasted in his immature days seemingly blending with the wall. One of his many dreams yet to be fulfilled.

The same nostalgic jingle of mum's bangles and strong torkari fragrance. A very fine Kolkata morning.

Abeer shoved the toothbrush in his mouth. A chipped mirror on a peeling wall. The water is leaking as always, an overdue plumbing work. A man staring back with eyes sleepy and perhaps even a little dead, shoulders hunched with a weight comfortably nestled on his shoulders, another day.

'Ma, bhog lagena. Khabona' (Ma won't eat, not hungry)

Changing into his professional attire he left. Abeer closed the door all the while silencing mum's bantering. The sun was at its peak. The bus crowding. Sweaty bodies and shouting vendors. The sweat already soaking his white shirt. I have to buy a bike, the bus took a break almost hurling Abeer at the next passenger. It will save so much hassle.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

The sun reflected off the mirror like windows. Abeer stared at the large seamless infrastructure of one of the largest hospitals in the city. The large letters in blue and white on the top glinting.

SUPLExHOPE
New healing Medicare.

He got so lucky to get a job in a place like this with little to no experience. Pushing open the door he entered the air conditioned premise. Gleaming marble tiles, an almost overwhelming smell of bleach and a constant movement of patients and doctors. Abeer made his way to his cabin. It's the same every single day

A man entered the room with a child. 'I have brought the report you asked for.' The man replied sheepishly, handing a report which was asked almost a fortnight ago. Abeer eyes flicked from the man's rumpled attire and worn out weathered skin, child's faded Spiderman t-shirt and dusty sandals, then to the report in his hand.

Nothing serious, really.

But he can't say that, can he?

Abeer can almost hear the senior doctor barking at him, the job is to comply with what you're asked of.

'Can be a. . . risk of tumor.' A lie. The young physician's eyes stared dead at the man. To the colors leaving his face. In the eyes he sees months of blood and sweat being wrenched out.

'It needs an immediate MRI. Consult immediate diagnosis.'

Why did he think it was a good idea to be a physician? He doesn't even like the job.
Abeer busied himself with papers in his desk, suddenly unable to make sense of the numerous shapes and letters or of his life.

Yes. It's the same every single day.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

After years of unrelenting hardwork and sacrificing half his youth, Abeer finally achieved it. It's been 3 months as a physician. The salary pays generously, soon it will change his life. He still remembers the kind eyes of the elderly woman when he first started, she had said 'Son, you're an honest doctor, may God bless you'. The senior doctor had visited his cabin the same day with a frown.