its called holy month for some reasons.
The beginning of Ramadhan didn’t feel as exciting as it used to. Its just another ordinary day. Especially for her, because she was still on her period. So while everyone woke up at 3 am on that first day, she was still in her deep sleep.
Just another ordinary day, she whispered. She packed her bag and as usual, went to the library. She had no tasks that urgently need to get done, so she picked up a book from the shelf. A poetry collection it is. Over the past 2 decades of her life, she just realized that the beauty of poems come from the experience while reading it, which can change at any time depending on the situations that the reader currently live in.
She had finished reading that poetry book, then decided to pick up another one. She want to spend more time like that—just sit and read. She planned to make time to read more books and more pages of Quran during this holy month.
It didn’t happen. She woke up pretty early that morning to go the hospital. it was the time again, when she had to be a sort of parental figure. The hospital system always confusing, that’s what she heard. But she followed the never-ending process while ask here and there, even the smallest detail so that she understand what she need to do for her sister. The hallway was her witness—it stared at her as she went back and forth asking these things and doing those things.
“come back again next week for the surgery” the doctor said. She took care of the rest of the administrative matters, and returned home. Her sister had to undergo first ever surgery. A week passed by and she found herself already in the hospital again. Her period is over by then, so she fasted that day. While waiting for her sister name to be called, she wandering around.
The hospital never sleeps. She doesn’t know how many rooms she passed under the clear sky. She doesn’t know who was being cared for behind all of those rooms surrounded by shady trees. And she’ll never know why all of them needed to be cared for in the first place. Were people getting sick because of their own fault? Like the lifestyle they implement or as simple as food they choose to consume. How did their family feel about it? How did the caregivers feel about having to take care of other people who got sick because of their own fault?
That question is not for me, she whispered. Then she wandering around one more time. There’s a small mosque in the hospital, of course. So she performed the dhuha prayer. She stayed there for a while. She read a few pages of Al-Qur’an. She was tired, and thinking about days to come made her even more tired. After Dhuhur, she came out of the mosque and looked for her sister. Her sister was not there. Before she knew it, that her sister had already got a room for pre-operation. She went there. She lay on the bed in her sister’s room. She closed her eyes.
It only took some couple of days in the hospital. However, there was one night where she had to eat suhoor there. Wake up at around 3am, she felt cold and nothing soft under her—obviously, because it was not her bed nor her room. She slept on the floor only with a thin mat. The first thing she saw was the curtain—oh ya, she stayed in the hospital that night.
After eat suhoor and pray at the mosque, she went outside. Where she lived, the weather was only hot and rainy, but some trees spoke of autumness—or maybe she just made it up inside her head. It wasn’t that dark, because the sun had already risen a little. But the street still had its own moment of tranquality.
When she wasn’t in the hospital, she was at home doing all the chores and taking care of her youngest sister. She had never missed a fast during that time, and tried her best to make time to pray on time and read pages of Al-Qur’an everyday. She was tired, her time was getting messy, and she had to balance it all with her job on top of it. She really wanted to complain but she remembered.. Its called holy month for some reasons, right? This month wasn’t just about no-food no-drink kind of thing, Ramadhan always taught her how to be patient. To control her anger—to control her own ego.
But there was something else she needed to remember.. she did something to help others, to help her fam. She’s easily forgot about these things. She often felt like a useless person and couln’t make others proud. That might be true. But when others need her, she’s there. Everything happens for a reason, isn’t it? She almost blame herself once again for making the decision to go back to her hometown like a failure. But maybe this situation, once again, is where she’s meant to be—to prioritize others before her own comfort. To be selfish before being selfless, and being selfless first before blaming her selfishness. She would learn how to balance it all.
Until the next story, hivers! Thankyou for reading :)
Semoga cepat sembuh
Alhamdulillah sudah sembuh, terima kasih banyak sudah mampir ke postingan saya dan doa baiknya🙏
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