Her body failing her didn't disappoint her at all. She had expected a big crack to appear in the center of the earth when someone told her that her time was limited but nothing happened! She didn't even blink. No tears appeared. All the emotions had finally bid her farewell too.
Someone had once told her that before death there could be a period of mourning if death was certain to come at an appointed time that was known to us. Because death was usually a surprise, the knowing of death was like the knowledge that could change everything. People could repent, make up, laugh, cry and lament.
But Rabia felt like knowing exactly how many days she had left on the roster wasn't good for her. It induced a sense of unease. Some days she wanted to get it over with. Some days she wanted to wake up in a body that was healthier and cancer-free.
"You've been very committed", She could tell that her young oncologist was having trouble saying what she had made this appointment for, "You've been so diligent so I don't want you to think that you could've done any better. You gave it your best".
Her cancer doctor was a woman in her late thirties. She was tall with a face that was prematurely lined. In a part of her, Rabia loved her for trusting her defective body and doing everything she could. In another part, Rabia envied this woman with all her soul.
How can two women have two destinies? She thought as the doctor paced the room testily, her thin body wrapped in a white coat that was two sizes too big for her. How can one suffer from cancer and the other rid her from cancer? That's not fair.
"Your scans are back", Dr. Ahmed finally sat down, "It's not good news and I don't think we should continue chemotherapy at this point. You've had way too many infections to justify this war that we have waged on your body. But I'm open! Whatever you want! I have a slightly different ethic about it. It's futile care to engage you in more chemotherapy but I understand giving it a last shot".
"I thought the last shot was giving me chemotherapy", Rabia said pragmatically, "You had said the chances were very slim for any long term recovery anyway".
"Yes, yes, I had! I had said that", Dr. Ahmed had a painful expression on her face, "But, Rabia! I wanted to fight for you. I didn't want to throw in the towel. It would've been cowardly".
Cowardly! This woman had no idea what cowardice was. Living with a cheating husband so her kids didn't meet the same fate that her and her three sisters met was cowardly. Knowing that he had affairs, had impregnated at least one woman, and had likely slept with many, yet staying quiet was cowardly. It was all cowardly. Courage is a determinant of empowerment. It's not borne of its own accord. Poor people, women, kids, aren't afforded courage by the system. They're taught fortitude. And their fortitude is exalted in the name of resilience and strength of spirit.
"You don't want me to blame me", Rabia said gently, feeling sympathy for the doctor, "And I don't want you to blame yourself. How much time do I have?"
The doctor talked. It was a sterile conversation about the end of life. There were so many things to discuss. She asked Rabia what her goals of care would be. Goals of care? Rabia thought vaguely. No one asked me what I would like my goals for this life to be. Isn't it funny that people want to know what my goals for my death would be? It's really funny.
"I don't have goals", Rabia said, "Never had any. I'm not an ambitious woman. I don't have much to celebrate except two kids who now look like a mistake. I was never free enough to set goals, make decisions, work towards a target. I'm a simple woman. Pathetic, if you will! My only request is that when it's my time to go, don't resuscitate me. Don't withhold pain medicines from me. And do not let me die at home. I want to die at a hospice facility or a hospital. I would hate for my family to have death happen in our home. They won't be able to recover from that. Just let me be somewhere where strangers care for me and my family can visit as they like".
"We aren't quite there yet", Dr. Ahmed said, "But I've put your wishes down. Please sign it. I'll enclose a copy for you in your chart as well".
She went to all her appointments alone. Nasima and Asiya insisted on accompanying her but she never allowed that. There were so many things that she couldn't talk about in front of them.
"You're home, Beti?" The familiar sound of the most gracious woman rose from a lonely corner of this full house, "What did Dr. Ahmed say?"
Rabia couldn't make eye contact with Nasima. It was becoming harder to lie to the woman who had become a soulmate.
"Everything's good, Aunty! I saw my scans. The medicines worked. I can take a break. They'll repeat scans in a few months".
Nasima's face broke in a huge smile. The wrinkles magically disappeared. Her complexion lightened and the tautness in her body dissolved into supple gratitude.
"Ya Allah!" Nasima raised both hands to the sky, "I'll say a thousand prayers for Him".
"I thought you didn't believe in a god!" Rabia asked slyly.
"Who said that?" Nasima smiled as she made it to the kitchen to warm dinner, "He is my everything. I ask and He bestows".
She heard Nasima instructing the cook to make special dishes that were Rabia's favorite for dinner. She shuffled back and asked abruptly,
"Beti! Did you tell Hamza?"
"I will, Aunty! Didn't seem big enough to bother him at work with".
"If this isn't big then I don't know what is. Call Asiya".
Asiya and Rasheed's jubilation was unprecedented. They congratulated many times and Asiya cried loudly.
"Allah is so benevolent", Asiya kept saying, "He got us through. He got us through".
It became easier to swallow her conversation with the doctor when she saw all the happiness around her.
I'm not dying tomorrow, she thought, why burden everyone with something that will take months?
On a whim, she called the only sister who always sprang to the front. She knew Kausar had some unresolved conflict with everyone but felt she should call her. She had asked everyone to not inform Kausar or Arshad and now felt like this was a good time. Kausar won't be as alarmed as she would've been a few months ago when the diagnosis was new. She might even plan coming to Pakistan.
Kausar didn't pick up. She tried many times but Kausar didn't pick up. She decided to call the next day.
On a whim, she called Arshad.
"Salam Arshad Bhai!"
"Walaikum Salam! Rabia?" Arshad was rightfully surprised. She never called him.
"I've been trying Kausar but she didn't pick up. I got worried".
"She is at work", Arshad said, "How are you?"
She hadn't spoken to Arshad since the last time she had seen him during her wedding days.
"I'm good", She said automatically. Then she realized that it might be better if Arshad told Kausar. Who knew how Kausar might react? This wasn't a small news to spring onto someone.
"Actually I've not been well", She corrected herself, "I have been getting treatment for something".
"What is it?" Arshad's voice was concerned, "May Allah keep you safe and happy! What is it?"
"I had ovarian cancer", She registered Arshad's gasp, "But I got my reports back after completing chemotherapy today and I'm okay now".
He tried to understand why he was finding out about it all now. Did Kausar know and didn't tell him? She was a bitch.
"I had no idea. Kausar didn't even tell me. But I don't complain about her. She's insensitive and without compassion. But someone should've told me. Ami, Papa, Hamza! No one thought I was close enough to be a part of it. This is catastrophic news".
Rabia was silent. She hadn't expected this reaction. Arshad never had anything good to say about Kausar but his concern for Rabia's well-being was somewhat touching.
"I stopped them from doing so. Kausar doesn't know either. I didn't want you and her to be under any type of stress while you're so far away from us".
"That's not fair, Rabia!" He got emotional, an extremely rare sighting in his character, "I'm Hamza's older brother. I care about you two. We are family. We should've been closer than this".
Wow! Arshad Bhai has changed so much, she thought.
"Can you do me a favor?" She said abruptly. It was all well and nice to have him get sentimental but she didn't have much of a relationship with him and didn't want to make one now. Her instinct said that he didn't measure up to be a good father and husband. Patience for bad men was thin with her.
"Sure!"
"Please tell Kausar for me", She requested earnestly, "I wanted to but it would be hard for me to do it. I can't hear her cry".
"I'll tell her".
"Khuda Hafiz", She hung up abruptly.
He sat down. Rabia was a gem. A real diamond in the rough. She was a little girl when Nasima started tutoring her and he had always found her very endearing and attractive. She had an honest, guileless way about her.
One bad decision, he shook his head in remorse, one bad decision took my life out.
Things between him and Kausar had never been great but they were terrible now. She spent long hours at work and had taken to picking up and dropping off Musa now. Without discussing with him she had stopped the bus from coming to home. He didn't get it. She had never been erratic but now she was.
She had also gained a huge amount of weight. He had always thought that she was one of those naturally thin people. But lately her body had gotten rounder and her face looked swollen. She hadn't been this big even during her pregnancy with Musa. Maybe finally the stress of a bad marriage was getting to her too.
He had come home early. Adeel had been taking some days off and there was not much to do at work. He usually religiously went to the store to spend time with Adeel. Now that Adeel was away on vacation, going to work or staying at home was the same thing.
Adeel had gone to California for a few days. Arshad asked him what the reason was but Adeel cried so bitterly that he surmised that it was a girl.
"Pray for me, Arshad!" Adeel cried, "Pray for me to get peace. I want peace. I want quiet. I want my boring life back".
He had held him, stroking his head, wondering what caused Adeel to spin into these spells of sadness so often.
She drove her car aimlessly on I-95. Driving on a highway was one of the best forms of high for her. She hated stopping at lights so highways were the perfect solution.
She expertly swerved between lanes and cars. Adeel's hand seemed to be guiding her. How many times had they sat in this car, Adeel giving her another driving lesson.
Love had defaulted on her. She had expected that from marriage but love had always seemed like a more secure thing. It had seemed untouchable. It felt less vulnerable to be in love than being married. Now everything was without any integrity for her.
She picked up Musa from his preschool. He was going to start kindergarten soon. His round face shone with enthusiasm at seeing his favorite person in the whole world. She smiled sadly. How the stars had conspired against her! She had given up on coming up with ways to fool Arshad. Nothing was going to work, she knew! If she succeeded in convincing him, her soul would burn forever. If he found out about it, it was the same end. It was all a crapshoot.
"Look, Mama!" He had started calling her Mama again after brief experimentations with Mom and Mommy.
She took the handmade glider from him.
"This is very clever", She smiled as she picked him up. His feet touched her belly. The baby inside kicked.
They sat in the car. Musa talked incessantly about his day. He didn't spare any details. Kausar listened with interest. She wished someone listened to her too!
Arshad was sitting at the dining table with a glum expression.
"How was your day?" He asked as she deposited Musa on a chair and went into the kitchen.
She thought she hadn't heard him correctly.
"My day?" She turned around.
He was standing behind her.
"Come here!" He took her hand and steered her to a couch.
His face scared her. This wasn't him discovering about her affair with Adeel. This was something else. He was tender and emotional. He was being nice. He was showing compassion.
Someone has died in Pakistan, she thought with nausea hitting her full force, my mother has died and now I don't even have a mother.
"I don't want to alarm you because everything is okay now", He started gently, "But Rabia called me today".
Maybe Abba had a heart attack. Maybe he's better now.
She stared at him.
"A few months ago", He cleared his throat, "She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer".
She didn't get it. Who got diagnosed with what?
"She had to undergo chemotherapy", Arshad continued, "She didn't tell us because she didn't want to stress us out . She's okay now. Her treatment worked. She's all better now".
Appa! She tried to muster a mental image of her Appa. The prettiest sister! The best daughter! Rabia's image wouldn't form in her head. She had forgotten how her Appa looked.
"She wanted me to tell you", Arshad said with sympathy and love, "Because she didn't want you to be alone when you heard about it".
She stared at the man who was her husband but had been in love with Rabia. She realized she hadn't been jealous about it at all. Her grievance with Rabia was marrying her husband's brother. Kausar didn't like it because she had never had anything to herself. She finally could see how that was childish. So very childish!
He was saying something more but she got up. It was like she was walking on clouds. Her feet didn't touch the ground. Her eyes were unfocused, trying with all their acuity to get a good image of Rabia in her head.
How did Appa get cancer? Someone was asking her. She had always been so healthy.
She started going up the stairs. The clouds under her feet were giving away. Some clouds were turning into water as she stepped on them.
It was serendipitous that Arshad had been paying attention. She fell from the sixth step on the staircase. He held her.
Before she passed out, a dazzling image of Rabia rose in her head. She was wearing a plain white Peshwas with a matching churidar. Her ears had the classic hoops that she was so fond of. She had her pink lipgloss on and a slight blush to her cheek. She cried, "Kausar! Don't fall. Hold the baby", and then Kausar knew no more.
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