Dedicated to kithaab_lover9, for her immense love towards me and my book. Will miss you✨

Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem.

When at last Jesima stepped out of the small cabin, all she felt was suffocated. Her lungs were too jammed to breathe in and out the fresh air. She closed the door with trembling fingers.

The Doctor had explained to her all about glioblastoma but it fell on deaf ears. Her brain felt too numb to focus and she was yet to figure a way out of the initial shock that scorched her soul into agony.

Her Aashiq.

Her Aashiq was suffering.

Her Aashiq was suffering from a tumor.

Jesima passed through a sea of people without the knowledge of where she was heading. Her feet robotically strolled through the hallways and her eyes were casted afar. She was looking but she did not see anything. She was hearing but she did not hear  the chaos the people around her made. The hustle-bustle hallways were filled with energy and determination but for the first time, she lost her devotion.

Jesima didn't know where Aashiq went and she felt too tired to search for him. People like waves crashed over her and she stumbled in her footing, holding the ground firm. Her soul was already fallen down to an abyss, she did not want her body to reciprocate the same.

Like in the movies, slow melodious music started to play in the background, unfolding with a sad song. She choked out a sarcastic laugh, for this is just the start and she has already started to feel tired.

Aashiq was her anchor, without him who would uproot her boat of life in place?

Jesima crossed the huge sliding glass doors that lined the hospital's entrance and her feet came to an abrupt stop. As if on cue, a Mercedes parked in front of her. Her vision fell on the one who was sitting on the back seat and she let out a sigh of relief. He didn't meet her eyes when she entered the car. She took the seat, leaving enough space unoccupied in the center.

The car started along with the commencement of their tragic journey. The singer of the song took speed and the heartbreaking lyrics made moisture to secrete in her orbs.

Jesima's life had been a bed of roses until now. There were a lot of problems when her parents started a school of their own but the couple took everything so neatly that she didn't face even a thorn's prick during her school days.

Blessings were shed over her, her goals were given attendance, her wishes were granted while many only dreamt of living a life she lived. To be grateful to Allah, Jesima worked very hard to stay grounded-down to earth, no matter how high she flew.

Shabna and the misery filled life she lived irked Jesima a lot. She did whatever in her might to help her friend. It was because of her that Shabna met Maahi. It was because of her that her friend got married to him. Helping others gave her a feeling of satisfaction and contentment. At last, her small road to help others turned into a highway. She wanted her small hands to reach out to as many people as possible.

When Jesima looked at the world map, the people who needed the most help were the Palestinians. A goal brew inside her chest - To reach out to them, to protect them, to cure them, to make them smile, to feed them, to be with them became her many wishes. She wanted to sacrifice her life to work in the cause of Allah but her Rabb had different plans for her.

That was the time Aashiq gave his entry, from a mere stranger-he became her everything. He became the most valuable thing she cherished to keep with her throughout her life. He became the pearl she wanted to adorn herself with. He became the love she never dreamt of blooming.

Finally, when she put all her plans on a box and stashed them in a corner of her mind, a bomb fell over her brain exploding them all. The Aashiq who she so badly wanted to live with, wouldn't be available for her for the rest of her life. 

He was the light in her darkness and when that would be deprived, what would be left of her?

He wasn't an ornament to adorn, he was a human after all. A human named Aashiq with all of the abilities the name meant. Ironically, he wasn't the real Aashiq of their story, rather, she was. Trudging along the path of life, she never realised that she became an aashiq of her Aashiq.

After Shabna got a miscarriage and a divorce, she was a gone case. Jesima's heart shattered to see her in that state. She took Shabna to California, so she may find a distraction in the new country. After coming to Cali, Jesima slowly started to talk to Shabna about the blessings of Allah and to ponder over the verses that Allah has sent to us, as a consolation for all the problems we face and doing so, Jesima learnt to mingle Allah's verses with real life. The verse which related to her current situation started to play inside the chords of her mind.

Allah Subhanahu Wa Ta'ala said:

كُلُّ مَنْ عَلَيْهَا فَانٍ
(Kullu man alaiha faan)

(QS. Ar-Rahmaan 55: Verse 26)

The car honked and came to an abrupt stop, the traffic was huge due to the big day. Everyone opted to celebrate the first day of the long year ahead except the couple in hand. They felt weak in their knees because, for them, it was not only the first day of the new year but also the first day to know the whereabouts of a disease which was bound to kill.

Jesima stared out of the window, her gaze cast on the huge trees that lined the sidewalk. Though they all go under a single term 'Plants', each had its unique and different feature. From the leaves to the root, everything was different. So beautiful were the flowers. Varied were the flavors of each distinct fruit.

The tree in front of her was huge and widespread with tiny leaves lining throughout the niche. The leaves were small and infinite. If Jesima wanted to count them, she wouldn't be able to. It was the splendid feature of her Creator. His blessings were uncountable. The leaves were shell shaped with a thick vein in the middle and small veins connected the middle line.

كُلُّ مَنْ عَلَيْهَا فَانٍ
(Kullu man alaiha faan)

The car slowly moved back and left the vicinity of the usual highway they traveled to reach their home. It took a long way around which caused her to view the beachside. The waves crashed on the shore. Everything they passed screamed the beauty of the creation made by their Creator. The blue colored water that touched the horizon of the light blue sky in the far end. In reality, it didn't. Whitish bubble like foam colored with the blue water waved through and out the sand. Each wave was stronger than the before.

كُلُّ مَنْ عَلَيْهَا فَانٍ
(Kullu man alaiha faan)

The high mountains that exist, the rivers, the meadows, the ponds, the sun, the moon, the stars, the galaxies, the light years, the innumerable variety of animals and their varied species, the humans, the desert, the ocean, the landscape, the greeneries, the sky and everything that exists between the heaven and the earth.

كُلُّ مَنْ عَلَيْهَا فَانٍ

(Kullu man alaiha faan)

"Everyone upon the earth will perish,"

The maker of these things didn't make them to last, he made them to perish. Indeed, this world is a deception to our eyes. What we see isn't the truth, balke what is hidden is the legitimate truth. The most hidden thing we ignore all our life is death.

We live like there is no tomorrow and die as if we didn't live even for a day.

As if a boat without a captain, our life sails. We spend all our life to create something on this earth whose control we lacked and live ignoring the threat of death. We all will have to go through the same ending. The same angel would come to collect our soul. The difference was rather simple, some die soon and some later.

On a whole different contrary, Allah loves us. His love is like his blessings, uncountable. From a clot, he turned us into successful individuals. He gave us a shelter to seek refuge in, food to our starving bellies, water to our thirsty throats. Relatives to spend time with, family to bond, parents to respect and a spouse to love. Good functioning organs to live an easy life. Blessed us with good surroundings and environment.

His love for us can be compared to the love of a mother to her child. A mother provides all the sustenance the child needs and fulfills his/her's obligations, and when the child does mischief, she shakes her head with a smile and forgives, no matter how many times the mistake was repeated. At the end of the day, she expects us to love her abundantly. The same implies to our Rabb. He expects us to love him for blessing us with so many eases. He expects us to worship him alone, like the way he should be worshipped.

We are humans after all. We contain a treacherous heart, a shaitaan at the back, a nafs full of desires, a greed to conquer the world, and many other needs which are not the utter necessity. In order to create a perfect life, we forget the one who created us. Allah Subhana wa ta'ala tests us when we go astray in order to get us back on track. He tests us when we start loving something which shouldn't be loved more than him. He tests us until we seek for his help, crave for a way out. His help surely arrives to those who patiently wait.

Do people think once they say, “We believe,” that they will be left without being put to the test?

Qur'an - 29.2

In Jesima's case, she didn't know when or how, her love for Aashiq grew to extents she wasn't even aware of reaching. Heck, she started to love him immensely. The question was, would she be able to let him go?

Jesima clasped the leather of the seat with her fragile fingers, clutched it tight and started to strangle the material. The pain was too harsh to bear. Her pupils soaked with liquid and the moisture blurred her sight. She choked in her breathing.

All of a sudden, a firm hand grasped her trembling fingers. She wiped her eyes with her other hand and looked at the person whose touch brought the warmth she was seeking. Aashiq's greyish green orbs were gloomy. They reminded her of the grey clouds that darken the bright sky.  He didn't utter a word but she knew, he stood on the same page as her. He mirrored the similar emotions. He also stood on the same fragile threads, ready to break down any moment.

....

I turn
In all directions
But
All I can hear
Are echoes of silence.
The noise
Is deafening;
Like a magnet
It pulls me
To feel its sickles.
I am surrounded by people
But unfortunately,
They are all dumb.
They don't utter
A single word
To fill the space
With their voice,
To calm the storm
That burns me,
Throttles me,
Reduces me to ashes.
The flames dance
With the rhythm of my pain,
Its shadows is casted
As tormented scars
On the wall of my soul.
I churn,
I burn.
No one cares.
In fact, they let me
Suffer.
Burn.
Even say that
It was what it was meant to be.

Aashiq closed his journal when he saw Jesima at his room's threshold. He faked a smile to invite her in, placing the hardcover book over his nightstand. Jesima walked up to him, folded her polka dot shirt as she took a seat beside him on the king sized bed.

"How are you feeling?".

" Alhamdulillah, a lot better".

It's been two days since they came to know about the disease. They lived under the same roof but did not found the courage to face each other. Jesima spent her time in her room, sitting idle. Nothing interested her. Nothing seemed pleasant. The only times, she got up were to pray and to check up on Aashiq, whether he was doing well. Aashiq would notice Jesima's presence now and then nearby his door. She was too scared to confront him and talk about it and he was too scared to believe what was happening was real-something lethal was growing inside him, which would eventually take up his life.

Jesima now faced him was solely due to the strength she regained after talking to her parents. Her mother consoled with soothing words and her father gave her motivation that nothing was impossible in this world. If they take Aashiq to the best treatment centers in New York, perhaps, they can hope. Even a strand or a ray was enough to lead a life- these were her father's exact words.

Jesima slowly reached out, leaning her head on him, she wrapped one hand through his broad shoulder and her other hand went to hold his rough masculine palm. "How are you feeling?".

Aashiq's head bowed over her's and his palm held tight her soft hand. " To be honest. Not good". He whispered.

"How are you feeling?", she asked the same question again because she wanted to know what he was feeling even though his answer might make a crack in her heart which can't be sealed later.

Aashiq crouched his head back and sat straight. He removed his palm from her grasp and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it in the process. " I don't know, Jesima. It's hard to digest the fact that I am going to die and that too, very soon--",

"--Aashiq. With proper treatment, many cases have survived this illness. Allah doesn't create a disease without creating the cure".

Aashiq exasperatedly closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. " I don't want to take any treatment".

"What?".

" You heard me", he breathed out.

"Are you mad?", Jesima squinted her eyes and looked up.

" Mad as in mad over you. If yes? then it's a yes". He grinned trying to change the topic.

"Aashiq, don't try to avoid the topic".

" It's not worth discussing. Trust me".

Jesima withheld her arm that wrapped over his shoulder and pulled back. "I thought you are a believer in what you do. I thought you are the strongest person with full control of your will power. I thought you are the one who wouldn't take defeat easily--", her voice dropped low and she couldn't force the words to roll out through her tongue.

Aashiq lifted her chin. " I am. I am not taking defeat without fighting it but instead, I am planning to accept what my Rabb has planned to me".

Jesima looked away from those rare jewels that beautified his pupils because when she stared at them without blinking, she saw the tiny gold speckles in the middle of the grey sea that binded them fully. "It's easy for you, right?", she chuckled sarcastically.

Aashiq grasped her fingers and kneeled in front of her on the rich mattress. " Please, don't misunderstand me. I don't have the strength to go through the misunderstandings. I know it's hard for you. Trust me, I feel the same. Heck, you can't even imagine how hard it is for me--", he broke, he let his walls fall, he let her see-through the pain that seeped through his veins, each breathing which he took with difficulty.

"They say everything Allah does is for our own good and I don't know how to marvel that fact because it is so true. The fight we had a few days back made us get close to each other. The time we spent alone was tough but in the end it lead us to confess our feelings to each other, right?".

Jesima nodded her head.

"I have dreamt about the confession part a thousand times. I would channel it in my brain and smile like an idiot. If a wayfarer looked at me, he would say I have gone crazy, and guess what? I would agree, I had gone crazy on you and I still am. I love you, I love you so much--", he kissed her forehead with so much affection.

" Jesima, I don't know why my name translates to be a lover but the meaning characterizes me. I love whatever I do a bit too much than the normal poeple and the same applied when I started to love you. You needed time and I respected that, like a person who fasts and patiently waits for the clock to roll down, to enjoy the sweetness of iftaar. I waited for you, I waited for you to have the same feeling which I had for you. I waited for you to reciprocate my love. when at last, my wait was permitted and I was bestowed to live that moment, I was told that I won't be able to live the life, I dreamt of spending with you". By now, Aashiq's face was so hollow and tormented that for a moment, Jesima forgot to breath.

"I dreamt that I would be able to wake up a hundred mornings with you in my arms. Your face would be the first thing I would see and I would push back the hair strand which always disturbs your sleep. I would bring you coffee and we would chit chat in the balcony. I dreamt of living to see the sun rise and set with you. I dreamt of leaving you at your work and picking you up. I dreamt about fighting for the last piece of pizza. I dreamt of kissing you infinite times. I dreamt about making a cute little family of our own. I dreamt of enjoying short picnics with my children. I dreamt so many things, Jesima", he cried.

Jesima's fingers shivered as she cupped his face, his stubble prickled the inside of her palm, her lips trembled. She lacked words to speak, so she wiped the tears he shed. " Is that so much to ask for?I don't want to be ungrateful to Allah for giving me a disease after twenty eight years of a pleasant life. I am trying but miserably failing at that task--".

"Shush", Jesima put her index finger over his lips when she saw blood peek through the flare of his right nostril.
She wiped it with her sleeve and pulled him towards her. Aashiq wailed in her arms and a shiver run down her spine with his every moan of grief. She bit her bottom lip and silently sobbed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her chest. She would be a hypocrite to deny that she didn't dream all those things, to love and live her life with him, grow old together. She even dreamt to the extent of seeing their grandchildren along with each other and spoil them rotten with heir love.

The closeness comforted them from the harsh realities. It blanketed them.

Several minutes later when Aashiq pulled away, she didn't let him go even an inch far from her. He leaned on the headboard and she laid her head on his chest. His heartbeats were like a balm on her sore body. They were the testaments that kept her going.

Aashiq and Jesima wanted to speak and tell aloud a lot of things to each other but for now, the close grasp which they both held was enough.

Jesima's eyes landed on the clock and she begrudgingly pulled away. "You should eat something".

" I am not hungry".

Jesima got up from the bed and tugged her rubber band to wrap her hair in a ponytail. "That's not a valid reason to avoid eating".

She was about to walk out of the door when Aashiq called out. " Jesima". She turned around and made him known that she was all ears.

"I want to call my parents here", Aashiq said slumping on the pillow, his gaze never leaving her face. Jesima gave a slight nod as a reply of affirmation and walked out.

Aashiq initially thought that she would return with a tray of food but he was surprised to see her returning with a large rolling suitcase. Jesima ginned at his dumbfounded expression. " What? We should probably change the catchphrase. From now on 'It's not Anjum', 'It's your whole family'", she quoted in the air.

....

Jesima switched on the stove and placed a pot of milk to boil, when
it started to boil, she put in a spoonful of tea powder and a clove of elaichi. She was straining the tea into two separate mugs when she saw Aashiq approach her.

"Need help?".

" No. I am fine on my own". She politely denied.

Jesima did not take care of herself after she heard about Aashiq's sickness. She did not had proper sleep and appetite. All her day went over with the fact to absorb the reality that was unraveling itself. Believe what is happening. Realise that she couldn't spin the board and go back to where they were.

It all resulted for an nerve to pop on her forehead and a heavy migraine to blast her head. To relax herself, she was preparing a quick snack with a refreshment-tea with cookies.

"Let me", Aashiq took ahold of the tray.

" It's okay, Aashiq. I will set the tray".

"No worries, Jesima".

From the corner of her eyes, Jesima saw Aashiq's fingers tremble. Fear gripped her chest. For the news which she was yet to grasp fully, that indeed Aashiq was I'll, got verified. She wanted to turn blind at that fact. Her heart sighed with defeat.

How can I take this in? How can I survive this storm?

In order to take the tray from his hand before it slipped and fell to the ground, she wriggled her hands to the front to grab and stiff the tray but it was too late. The mugs slipped and they fell on the ground, splashing the brown liquid everywhere. A splash fell on her outstretched hand and she cried with the sudden outburst of pain.

At once, Aashiq held her hand. He ran her to the sink and opened the faucet. The cold water soaked her burn, her nervous system screamed with the ache but her blurry eyes were fixed on Aashiq. Crease lines lined his forehead and guilt for causing her damage flashed in his face.

" I am so sorry", he said, sincerely feeling the pain that seeped through her veins.

"Aashiq", she strangled in her words to grab his attention.

He met her gaze. "Let's go to New York. Please".

At once, he started shaking his head.

" This is not the time to be adamant, Aashiq".

"Jesima, I understand your concern but respect my decision".

" That's the worst decision. I won't respect something that would hurt you. How can you be so selfish?". Anger flashed in her voice.

How can he be so kiddish? Here she was dying inside each passing minute and there he was, not at all agreeing to take the treatment and get better, so that they may spend a life along with each other.

"Let me grab the first aid kit", Aashiq moved towards the counter that had the basic essentials to treat homely wounds.

Frustrating tears pooled her orbs. " No need. I don't want your concern when you don't accept mine", she stormed out of the room with a rage that demised both of their souls.

...

As per said, soon enough Aashiq's parents and his sister were called in. The house buzzed with energy and an aura of reunion. Aashiq's family were oblivious of the deadly disease that ate their son at a rapid-fire speed. Aashiq did not want to cause them any sort of grief.

Jesima couldn't argue with his now adamant self, she didn't speak with him more than a word and she silently agreed, for the demise and sufferings of their children may cause insurmountable pain to the parents and the closest family members but on the same time, she felt jealous to see them blind and not aware of the truth she knew. They didn't undergo what she was going through. It was so hard to seal her lips from screaming and letting out her agitation.

When the time would be appropriate, they should know, they have a right to but that time was not now. That's why she gulped those lethal words to herself. They deserved to spend some time together without the sympathy and emotional trauma. Aashiq deserved that right more than anyone. He deserved to be shown all the love that rested in this world.

As she entered the living hall, Jesima placed her handbag on a side table and smiled warmly at the sight in front even though she was dying inside. Aashiq's father and Anjum were looking at the tablet and discussing something and it looked more like an argument, while Aashiq was laying his head on his mother's lap, an adorable look on his face and his green eyes shined star-like as he adorably looked at his mother who was massaging his midnight black hair. "Assalamu alaikum", Jesima announced loudly.

" Wa alaikum assalam", everyone replied, with a welcoming smile.

Jesima had gone to the hospital to apply for leave. She did not want to waste time anywhere outside than her home. "Jesima, I hope you would be cleverer than Anjum".

" Dad, just because I lost a match of sudoku with you doesn't mean I am not clever".

Jesima shook her head and took a seat on the opposite side.

"Aashiq, did you know what I have bought for you?". His mother asked stroking his hair.

" What is it, Ammijaan?".

"Your favorite".

" What might that be?", Jesima wondered, in order to wrap out of her thoughts.

Anjum raised her hand in the air. "Do you want a clue?".

" Sure".

"It's an energy drink in India which my brother enjoyed eating more than drinking".

Aashiq threw a cushion over Anjum and she dodged it by leaning back on the couch. " Horlicks?".

"Wrong answer", Anjum shook her head.

Aashiq glanced at Jesima like he was silently apologising to have caused her trouble. " It's Boost", he smiled.

"Mamma, do you remember how he used to eat half of the bottle and would come running up to you-clad in his undershirt and raise his arms in the air, declaring 'Boost is the secret of my energy'".

Jesima laughed at Aashiq whose face colored a shade of pink.

How can I ever be angry on a man like you?

Aashiq threw another cushion on Anjum and this time, he succeeded in his task for the soft fluffy pillow hit her head making her groan in defeat.

" Even I used to eat that brown colored powder. It tasted like heaven".

"Bhabhi, Bhai used to put it in his hands and lick--", Anjum couldn't finish the sentence because seeing Aashiq get up from his position, she stood and dashed out of the hall, causing a good amount of laughter to erupt from the people who sat there.

The ringing of the doorbell caused them to suppress their laughs and Jesima got up to answer it. " Ahmed?", She gasped.

"Assalamu alaikum", Ahmed chuckled warmly at her surprised expression.

" Wa alaikum Assalam", replied Jesima taking the two large size tubs of ice cream which he handed. "What's the occasion to receive this ice cream treat in this cold season?". She asked glancing at their snow-covered lawn at the front.

" Heard my brother is suffering from a brain disorder. Thought of making him eat a ton of ice cream that would make his brain freeze and his disease to melt away".

Jesima sucked in her breathing, reminiscing on the reminder. Seeing her expression, "I am sorry, you know I am not good with words, right?".

She quickly regained her posture and tried to act cool " Haan. You only know to quote lovey-dovey sentences".

Ahmed put his hand over his heart. "Touche".

Jesima took a few steps back and giggled. " Come in".

When Aashiq saw Ahmed coming inside, he quickly got up from his mother's lap. He did not want to make Ahmed feel sad about not having a mother on his own to love him as he had. Gratitude drifted in his chest towards his Rabb for blessing him a whole family to lean on for there were several without even one shoulder to take refuge in.

Subsequently, Ahmed was introduced to everyone and a few pleasantries were shared with a light chit-chat. Aashiq's parents left the friends on their own to talk freely and went to the room they shared.

"Jesima", Ahmed called, gulping the chicken nugget he was munching.

" Yes?".

"What about the internship project you planned to implant in Palestine?".

" Rafa feeds you with all information, I see".

Ahmed laughed. "She does but this time I called her to check up on updates on you people", he turned towards Aashiq, " I didn't see you in the masjid these days, and it got me worried. I tried to reach Jesima but her phone went to voicemail. So I called Rafa because I don't talk with Samra, it just feels awkward these days".

The couple nodded in understanding. "I don't know where my phone is", Jesima confessed.

" So? What have you people decided on the project?".

"To be truthful. We forgot about it until you mentioned it to us".

" I understand. That's why I wanted to give you guys my hand. I don't have any work to carry on after I resigned from my job in the hospital. If this goes any longer, I would eventually start to forget my practice. Can I take over the responsibility?".

Jesima looked at Aashiq letting the walls of anger crumble down and Aashiq reciprocated the same, they locked gaze. For a second, Ahmed wondered they were planning to reject his offer but the grins on their faces that were flashed the next moment calmed his worry. "That would be a tremendous amount of help, Ahmed".

***

Anyone who teared up? Raise your hands lol.

How was the update?

I am sorry for hurting you all, believe me, I go through worse to pen this out.