She Died in Beauty

 

Her name was Fatima. A petite woman with a gentle demeanour, Fatima reflected the meaning of her name, ”captivating,” all over her fair and pretty countenance. Her kindly eyes and easy smile radiated warmth and welcome like the winter’s fire, and evoked goodwill and sympathy in generous measure towards their owner. She needed the benevolence of these good fellows: Goodwill and Sympathy, as Fatima was widowed in her prime, and dwelt with an incurable companion, whom the doctors diagnosed as Parkinson’s.

Travelling down memory lane, Fatima took us to the palace city of Mysore, where her golden memories were stored.”Life there,” she said” travelled in the slow lane.”The quiet of the city with its quaint charm blended well with her temperament.”The lazy afternoons,” she recalled” were spent in friendly gossip with her garrulous neighbours.” Those carefree afternoons made her earthy, light and lively.

Marriage for her was beautiful. Her husband, a timber merchant, was years her senior, and proved to be as solid and dependable as the seasoned timber he sold.”My good man,” she chuckled,” treated me more like a sister than his wife.” He blessed her with three beautiful daughters. They were the darlings of his life, and he lavished every care upon them. Sunday lunch of delicious, lip-smacking biriyani was his forte.  “Oh, how the girls tucked into it with delight!” recalled this doting mother. Trips and outings he planned for them, to broaden their outlook and enrich their lives. Consequently, the girls grew up in grace and beauty, but remained sober and sedate, to the delight of their parents.

  Javeria was the eldest in Fatima’s nest, and as she grew in age, a young man sought her hand. With the news of wedding bells ringing in the air, the somnolent house burst into life. Laughter and chatter of women, the hustle and bustle of guests arriving and departing, and the giggle and gurgle of children at play, immersed the house into a rapture of delight. Nothing could dull the gaiety of a family celebrating their first wedding. Yet something did, a few days after Javeria’s “bidai.” The blow fell... quick, cruel and pitiless!  Fatima lost her husband in a moment, to a massive heart attack.

Silence descended in a pall of gloom, robbing the house of its life. Shock and disbelief choked the flow of grief in the neighbourhood. The wailing bride hastened home to bid her beloved Abba goodbye .A tinge of pain tugged at my heart as Fatima recalled those dark moments deeply etched in her heart. Though many seasons have passed, since then, I could sense that, her heart still bled at his untimely departure. Heavens bereft of such sentiments, summon anyone, at their will. Didn’t a great Greek dramatist once say: LIKE WANTON FLIES ARE WE TO THE GODS/ THEY SMITE US FOR THEIR SPORT.

With his untimely departure, the idyllic world of Fatima crumbled. The shock waves brought depression and disease. Her sprightly feet turned leaden. Dreariness like a thief crept into her life robbing it of its vitality. Day by day withdrew into a world of seclusion. The only indulgence, she allowed herself was the Friday dinner with her brother and family. Otherwise, she led a solitary existence with a T.V. for news and the mobile phone for contact. Most of her waking hours were spent in prayer after her remaining daughters were settled. She found great consolation in prayer, and she prayed very fervently. Allah was her solace and her salvation.

Allah, it seemed, wasn’t any kinder to her, despite her devotion .Javeria’s husband fell for a dancer in Dubai and left her .A dusky beauty Javeria was; well-educated and lady-like too. I wondered what some men wanted in life. All efforts at reconciliation having failed, Javeria was left to trudge the long and lonely road of life, with two kids for company. Luckily, Heavens sent a beacon of hope in the form of her father-in-law who took the two children under his wings. Javeria retreated to her mother’s home with a heavy heart. Her kids used to come during the holidays and fill the silent home with their life and laughter. As days passed, Fatima’s Parkinson’s became worse .It was during this time that we became her tenants, in Richmond town. Seeing her condition we never made any undue demands on her, although we paid a handsome rent .In fact, we made it a point to assist her in every possible way.

One day I told her that Allah had treated her with kind cruelty, literally shocking her with that outrageous statement.”How could you say that?” was the astonished question.”Your condition is deteriorating and for most part, you lead a lonely existence,” I said candidly.”So, merciful Allah has sent Javeria to care for you. Of course, in the most cruel manner... after being divorced! And is that not kindness laced with cruelty?” I signed off.

True to her sweet nature, Javeria attended to her mother with devotion. She kept her in comfort, providing her with excellent medical attention and suitable nourishment. It was providential that the mother who raised her children with selfless love and dedication should be blessed to have her daughter around, to care for her, when she turned infirm and dependent.

During this period Javeria was offered a job as a counsellor at a residential school .The choice was difficult for the young lady:”Stay with the mother or swim towards financial independence?” When we met her, she shared the news of Javeria’s imminent departure after summer holidays. “The illness is getting worse. How are you going to manage? ” were our worried questions to her. Fatima looked up serenely, smiled and said, “Allah will take care.”Her faith was unshakable! Allah did take care, as she said - in His way.

Days later, Fatima met us. Great excitement rung in her voice as she announced that  they were going on a pilgrimage to Mecca .It so happened, that she had  received a tidy sum of money after a dispute-resolution with the promoter of their  building. Such money, she felt, was not worthy, to be invested or saved. She decided to spend it on a pilgrimage with the entire family - daughters, sons-in-law and grand -children .She believed that it would earn God’s blessings, and knit the family closer.

As the days of departure drew near, Fatima was her younger self again. There was rhythm in her gait and gleam in her eyes .She described Mecca and Medina in glowing terms, dwelling on the peace and serenity she experienced there. She felt extremely grateful that she had the privilege of performing the umrah for the third time. When they landed in Medina, Javeria told us later, her mother seemed to be oblivious of her illness. She seemed to have regained her old rhythm. The day of her visit to the holy shrine, Prophet’s Mosque at Medina, she got up very early and organised everything. What astonished them was that the incapacitated mother, reminiscent of days gone by, made coffee for the entire family! Her shaking hands seemed to steady themselves miraculously. As they toured the shrine, Fatima felt a little breathless and sat down to catch he breath. That was all. Her breath left her forever!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Allah, whom she faithfully served, had blessed her with the gift of departure from His holy shrine to His abode. What more could a faithful ask? He had released Fatima from her suffering and paved the way for Javeria to pursue her career, without guilt or torment. It was as if Allah was saying to Javeria, ”you took care of your mother as a dutiful daughter, now I will take care of her. Pursue your plan to build a future for your children. They need you.”

Incredible, even the most faithless would agree! That’s how God works, if you trust Him with steadfast faith!