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The Treason of Life,

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And that situation was the horrible one. I am thinking of that night as a miserable and bitter memory for all. Everyone was lost in their world of sadness and bitterness. No one could do anything. They all became as silent as “my cousin’s” dead body. There were only few parts of their body being responsible to do everything but to save them from dying or being killed by sadness. Their eyes were to cry and to release tears into the space. Their mouth was to shout and to decrease their feelings of bitterness and finally their heart was to beat fast so that it could avoid from being stopped. And….
It was night. All of our family were sitting around the tablecloth and eating our dinner. No one wanted to speak with each other. I do not know why but I think every one’s heart could forecast the future event that was going to happen some moments after. I could see my sister Frozan who had gone to “my cousin’s” house one night before this to ask whether he is fine, was now so upset. I really did not know and indeed I had not asked her how was he. While we were eating our dinner, Frozan’s phone rang. She answered her phone. It was Wahida “my cousin’s” wife. She was in hurry. She told Frozan that Najib my cousin was in coma. She said that he had had a heart attack and now they were in the way to the hospital.
After that my sister cut the phone, she told that Najib was in coma. Suddenly my spoon fell down in the plate. The silence surrounded everywhere. After a while my brother Bashir who is a doctor stood and said that I am going to the hospital. Frozan also went with him. After their going there was call over call. I and my sister washed the dishes quickly and then we came to the room to ask how Najib is. I asked everyone but no one could give an exact, valid answer. Still my heart had a feeling of good prediction without knowing it was never right. After some time everyone went to Najib’s house which was two streets far away from our house. Only I, my sister Marzia, my brother Nasir and his wife were at home. It was completely dark outside. I turned off the lights and sat silently waiting for news in which I could feel calm but it never happened. My brother came inside the room where I and my sister were sitting in the darkness. He turned on the lights and asked us if we know any recent thing. Then he called Bashir and that was the real hard moment that I have ever experienced in my life. “Hello, yes Bashir, how is Najib, where are you now, are you in the hospital.”, “Najib died, he is no longer alive.”

What an unfaith world is this?
Why cannot we live without the world mischiefness and annoyance?

Those words came straight to my ears and then to my brain and then to my heart. It lasted too long to accept this miserable situation that had happened. Me and my sister both shouted and started to cry. Tears were boiling inside our eyes. They came instantly out. We cried whole the night. Then our eyes were so tired to release tears. Tears were shriveled inside our eyes even though we had not stopped crying but there was no longer any tear in our eyes.
That night was as long as a year. The next morning all of our family went to their house except me and Marzia. I did not want to go because I thought I cannot see him. I had never seen a dead before so I was afraid of going and I refused to go with them.
I think it happens to everyone that when their relatives die, they still have the desire to see them again. It was same for me as well. When I sat somewhere crying, my heart wanted me to kill myself so that I could see my cousin again.
I cannot express my feelings that I had. I can only say that I really wanted those previous evenings to come back again. Those evenings that when he had finished his job, he used to come straightly to our house to see his aunt and uncle, In fact not aunt and uncle but father and mother. He always came to meet his parents. Maybe it was hard for him to accept that he did not have father and mother so he wanted to respect them as his own father and mother.
That day evening my sister Frozan came to home. She was not able to talk. She was completely different from the past. When I went to see her in her room, she had her mobile in her hand watching a picture. At first I thought she is busy with her mobile but then I realized that it was the picture of Najib’s death face which she had taken in their house. I could not bear watching this situation and I just came outside.
Best friends were separated not by any other reason but only because of death.
Bashir and Frozan who were the real friends with Najib were now completely broken inside their heart. Frozan had the ability to cry and bring out her feelings of bitterness but Bashir could not. Bashir had never cried and it was the worst thing to do. If you cannot cry, something is going to kill you in your throat and that is true. He was silent every time. I had never seen him crying and that annoyed all of us.
Frozan who had recently met him one day before was now a different person. No talking, no eating and no going outside. One day before that night Najib had called Frozan to come and see him because he missed her a lot so Frozan went. She told me that when she went to Najib’s house, Najib was laying in a mattress and he could not open his eyes so in a funny way Frozan told him that what a bad host he is. He invites guests to his house but he himself is sleeping. Then he called his wife Wahida to bring some matches. When she brought some matches, he took two matches and wanted to put them inside his eyes to make his eyes be open by the time my sister took the matches from his hands and threw them to other side. Then, when Wahida brought their small baby son to the room suddenly Najib said that please look after my son, give him lots of love and always keep him happy. That was the last advice that still my sister remembers and does what he asked her to do. She always buys new clothes for the baby and she always goes to their house to ask whether he is fine.
This is one of the bitter situation that I have ever experienced. From that moment till now it is the only pray that I do for myself that,
“Oh almighty Allah, before you want to take away any of my relatives please take my life first because it is so hard for me to accept any of these things and I am afraid of going mad.

Comments

JaniceW's picture

So sorry

Mursal,
This is so difficult to read. My heart goes out to you and your family. Death of someone young is never easy to understand or accept. I can only say that I am thinking of you and pray that your heart heals. With love,
Janice

pooza11's picture

hard

It is s hard to accept the reality

pooza11's picture

hard

It is so hard to accept the reality

Mursal Hamraz's picture

Yes,

Yes dear that is so hard that accept, but we have to even if we get hurt and increase our pain, but still we hate to accept and suffer.

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