K A I N A A T

For the longest of time it felt like we were back in the first few days of our marriage with how weird we behaved around each other. If I needed anything, he would rush to get it done, if he needed anything, I would trip in my haste to get it done. It was both amusing and deep down cute at the same time. We were pretending way too hard to be normal, that was after all one of our longest fight ever.

Although things were going well, something inside me didn't feel good. I had these random moments of panic when my hands started shaking, the fear in the pit of my stomach spread all over my body. It had a lot to do with the constant overthinking I did, but I decided to hide it from Zaidaan, this was the last thing he needed to know.

Today was also a new beginning, I had finally mustered up enough courage to work again. But this time, I had opted to work as a clown therapist for the kids in the oncology department. Clown therapists didn't necessarily had to be trained nurses, but it was just an added bonus here. I'd come across this job a few years ago when me and Husna were still in med school, and she was thinking of dropping out.

"So" I'd started, "what will you do if your plan fails?"

Husna had shrugged, biting into her ice cream and I flinched at her. She chuckled at my reaction before saying, "If what I wish for doesn't happen, then I will just join back.'

I tilted my head and gave her a fake smile, "Madam? How will you do that?"

Husna let out a low laugh, "I'll just be a clown therapist!"

I had raised an eyebrow, "You are already a clown, what even is a clown therapist."

Her eyes had brightened up, and she'd leaned forward, " A type of therapy that uses humor to help relieve pain and stress and improve a person's sense of well-being. It may be used to help people cope with a serious disease, such as cancer. Clown therapy may include laughter exercises, clowns, and comedy movies, books, games, and puzzles. Now it does not involve me dressing up as a clown, or cracking jokes on patients. It includes more of communication and empathy, not sympathy. It's like, you know, diverting a person's mind from the pain and seriousness of their disease and inducing positivity in and around them. It's mostly around children who're diagnosed with cancer and all its sorts. Especially kids around the age of four to twelve."

I had given her a look and thought of her words before saying, "Where do you even find these things from?"

Husna had slightly blushed, before smiling, "Last year, when Arhaan had returned from his last year at Harvard, he had donated half of his savings to the oncology department in one of the hospitals. And, Hafsa had told me, that he had especially made sure that humor therapy was provided to each minor and had arranged a payment for as long as their chemotherapy went."

My mouth had fell open, "Woah, mashaAllah. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd like to do something good for strangers."

Husna eagerly nodded, "I know right? And he didn't let those families know that he was paying for them so they don't feel indebted to him. And here I thought I had no more reasons to fall-"

She'd stopped midway, and I knew what she was gonna say. I held her hand, and she shook her head, "Allah Kareem, In sha Allah, if it's meant to be."

"In sha Allah"

And now here I was, seeking up that same job because what's better than gaining some rewards while taking care of children? I had been warned that this can take up an emotional toll on me, but I had agreed nevertheless.

So, before I could chicken out, I took in a deep breath and turned to Zaidaan who was beside me in the driver's seat,

"I'll see you after work?"

He chuckled and took my hand in his, "Or maybe in between, relax darling. I'll take the girls back home on time, we'll wait for you. Enjoy this, I know you'll rock"

I shook my head, "JazakAllahu khayr, take care."

he nodded, and then proceeded to kiss my knuckles. I gave him a smile and stepped out, heaving a deep breath as I looked back one last time and waved at him.

Bismillah, I muttered under my breath before taking my first step in. This was going to be a different day.

***

I had just a few number of kids to look after, and it being the first day, I took my time knowing each one of them. Anaya, a little girl of five, gave me a crooked smile and offered her lollipop,

"Hey, sweetheart," I muttered, bending down to her level and ruffling her hair, "thank you so much, you can have this."

Her cheeks flushed a shade of pink and she looked down, timidly walking away from me. I chuckled and straightened up, walking out to have my lunch just in time for one of the nurses to watch over them.

I walked down the silent hallways of the oncology department, silently dropping a prayer for every soul in each room undergoing one of the most painful treatments. As I reached the cafeteria, I fished out my phone to call Zaidaan, just as my phone ringed with a call from him.

I smiled to myself, "Assalamualikum,"

"Wa'alaykum assalam, how's the day going?"

"Alhamdulillah, so far, so good. How are you? Did you eat?"

He hmm-ed a response back, "Yes, just done. Lunch time for you?"

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. He paused a moment before saying,

"I'll get the girls back home, don't worry about them. Call me once your shift ends, we'll pick you up too."

I smiled to myself, and we talked a bit more before hanging up. On my way back, I was passing by the wards when I heard someone crying. Instinctively, I stepped inside, making sure to not startle the woman.

She looked fairly young, barely in her forties. With a very thin, lean frame and an IV attached, she looked extremely worn out and in pain. I slowly made my way to her bed,

"Hey," I whispered in a low tone so as to not scare her. If there was one thing a medical profession asked for, it was how to speak in a soft, kind tone with patients, be it anyone.

She stilled for a minute, before shuffling in her space and looked up at me.

Her nose was extremely red, eyes entirely puffy, and her face looked bloated. Allah knew how long she was alone, and I gave her a look of sympathy,

"Can I do something for you?"

She stared at me for a few minutes, before saying,

"Get me my children."

For a second the worst scenes entered my mind, and I shook my head, slightly taken aback, "I'm sorry?"

She let out a flinch as she tried to face me better, "I want to meet my children. They don't allow them in,"

I stared at her for the longest of time, a battle in my mind as I frowned, "Who comes to meet you in the visiting hours?"

"My husband." She responded.

It was true that kids aren't allowed for long, even during visiting hours. My heart immediately went out to her, and I crouched to her height,

"Please tell one of the nurses to call me in when your husband visits, okay? I'm Kainaat Khan, hmm?"

She managed to nod at me, and I helped her settle down before making my way down the hall to the kids, wondering what I could do to help her. Sighing, I entered to find all of them painting on two charts with their hands, and I smiled walking up to one of the groups, making myself comfortable among them.

***

By the time I had left, I got to know that the woman I had met was a last stage cancer patient, and had very less chances of surviving. When asked about her family, I was told they were allowed to visit only in the mornings and evenings, both before and after my shift. I sighed as I thought about it, they could send her home, but her husband had insisted on keeping her there, hoping she would get back on her own feet. My life suddenly felt so stagnant as I walked down the stairs, wondering how she could not even be with them in her possible last days.

I halted down the last step and crossed my arms around myself, hugging my form as I waited for Zaidaan to pull up. A few minutes later, he did, with two bouncy little girls at the back seat. My face instantly lit up with the brightest of smiles, and I stepped inside, placing Muskaan on my lap and kissing her head as she instantly wrapped her arms around my neck. Mehak lay

in the car seat beside her, staring at me,

"Hi baby," I said in a baby voice, and she slowly curved her lips up, letting out a giggle. I rubbed my nose against her tiny little bop, and then turned to Zaidaan,

"Assalamualikum."

He grinned at me, "Wa'alaykum assalam, someone had a good first day."

I chuckled, settling Muskaan in my lap, "Yeah, someone did."

He gave me a smile through the rear view before resuming the drive, and we stayed silent as slow songs played in the background. I looked out the window, the only chatter being Muskaan's occasional description of playschool.

I took a quick shower once we'd reached home, and was surprised to see the food cooked and ready by the time I came out. Muskaan passed out on the sofa while Mehek lay in her cot, and I raised an eyebrow,

"You put them to sleep?"

He tilted his head to the side, lifting his lips up just a bit, "Yes well, you deserve some rest. And a peaceful dinner. And some time with me. "

I nodded, small smile gracing my lips, "I'm starving,"

"I got you."

I laughed t how serious he sounded, and then let him hold my hand as we ate. Everything around us was calm, it wasn't anything extra. Just us, in our kitchen, under a lamp, eating food he had cooked as our daughters slept. His hand in mine, not letting go.

He told me about his day, all the meetings and certain moments that ruined his mood, what someone did to almost get that deal cancelled, how big he had shot this time, and I listened with a smile and laughed with him and in all honesty, I wished time would just stop. His carefree blabbering was all I needed to make me happy, listening to him talk about his day was the best part of my day.

And, as if he figured I needed to hear that, he gently caressed my knuckles with his thumb as he said,

"And I missed you."

I squeezed his hand before placing a kiss on his palm, enclosing his hand in both of mine and placing them by my cheek, leaning against it,

"I miss you."

He looked at me for a moment, with his eyes that were always so soft, so calm against mine before getting up, coming to my side and leaning his forehead against mine. He said nothing, just kissed the top of my head before he helped me up, and to my surprise, picked me up.

"I know. I felt it." He finally said, before I nuzzled my head in the crook of his neck, letting him and the night lull me to sleep.

***

I jiggled my legs up and down, occasionally looking around. I dipped my head down, pressed my hands between my legs, looked up and tapped my foot against the ground again.

"Kainaat," Zaidaan placed a hand on my knee.

"Sorry," I murmured, giving him a sheepish smile, "Relax." He replied back.

I nodded, but still rubbed my hands together. Honestly, I'd been to the gynecologist many times in my teens, but sitting here for an actual reason this time, was keeping me in a fit of nerves. It was no hidden fact that I was desperately waiting to get done with this visit, but I also hoped I would be able to get through it without losing my mind.

Ten minutes later, I was finally called inside. Zaidaan held my hand as we took a seat, and Dr. Maysa Areej smiled at me,

"So, I went through your previous medical reports, and this is a case of PCOS and extreme endometriosis, yes?'

I nodded at her, and she continued, "You also underwent a minor cyst surgery in your late teens?"

I nodded again as she asked,

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"Five months ago."

She was silent for a moment, 'I see.'

She then instructed me to get a few tests done, and that she would prescribe me a treatment by the end of the day, which I was to collect once my shift ended.

Zaidaan left an hour later, and I resumed my work with the kids. For that day's relaxation session, I had arranged a painting and clay modeling game for all of them. For a minute it seemed like they were normal children in a playschool, until one of them was called for chemo, and their faces went grim.

The pain inflicted in the treatment was far worse than anything a child could go through, and everytime I saw one of them smile, I made sure I sent a prayer asking for their smiles to remain the same. It was heartbreaking to watch the children who were supposed to be flying with their wings spread free, are here with clipped wings and a gamble with life.

I let out a sigh as the clock striked two in the afternoon and the last on the children went out. I packed up my belongings, swinged my bag over my shoulder and walked out. I turned to the ward which had the patient I had encountered the other day, Leena.

"Leena?"

She moved in her sleep, and I decided its best not to disturb her, Adjusting her blanket, I walked out to have a word with the nurse assigned to her regarding the visiting hours. Half an hour later, I picked up the medications Maysa had prescribed, and texted Zaidaan to come pick me up.

"Wait, Kainaat!"

I looked back just in time for Maysa to catch up, "Hey," I said.

"I had a question."

I furrowed my eyebrows as she continued, "Did you undergo a severe surgery? It seems like there is something that constricts the space near your intestine."

It took me a minute to process her words. The shot Abaan had fired, that was the only severe thing that affected my body.

"What.. I mean, how.." I shook my head, "Yes, I did, but does it...does it affect my chances of getting pregnant?"

I saw her eyes soften at my question, and she did a half shrug, "It might. I'm not sure yet, but please, do take the fertility pills I've prescribed, there might be some hope soon."

I nodded and we bid goodbye, just as Zaidaan came in my view. I wordlessly got into the passenger seat, and he observed my silence for a minute before taking my hand in his,

"Are you okay?"

I blinked back my tears, and nodded, forcing a smile for his sake.

***

It had now been three months since I religiously followed the medication, and as I looked down at the negative test in my hand, I flushed the toilet and broke down, yet again.

I knew it would be tough. I knew I had to be patient, I knew I had to be strong. But something in me broke so badly everytime I saw a negative, that my will to hope was dying. Allah knew how many nights I spent in prayer, just making dua'a that somehow a miracle works its way in my life. I buried my head between my knees, pursing my lips until it hurt my jaws to not be heard crying. I sat like that for Allah knew how long, before taking a quick shower and walking out.

I saw Zaidaan already dressed, and he kissed the top of my head, "The girls are at nursery, I'll get going now too. Breakfast's at the table, eat well and take care." He said in a breath and rushed out, leaving me in a frenzy at the suddenness of his exit.

Nevertheless, I made my way to the kitchen and took a bite of the food he had cooked, smiling in appreciation, just when my phone buzzed with a new text.

Seeing it was from Zaidaan, I read it carefully,

'I'm sorry, I was getting late for the meeting, will call you once it's done, promise. Take care, darling.'

I smiled and replied back wishing him luck, and quickly got ready for my work. Two months into the job, I had learnt all the routes and decided to take the public transport, seeing how he could now always come pick and drop me. I had the option to get a car and drive, but driving was a sport too big for me.

As I boarded the bus, I leaned my head against the window, recalling the news I had recieved yesterday.

Right before I could fall asleep, Nancy, the head of oncology department, informed us of Remy's, one of the girls with me in therapy, death.

I had cried myself to sleep, and was far in the mood to skip the day, but I decided I had to go, for the sake of rest of the kids.

Remy was four, had seen the best of this world for barely an year before she had to start fighting for her life. She had a tumor in her liver, and even after multiple surgeries, the growth wouldn't stop and instead spread to her intestine, prompting chemotherapy.

I quietly made my way inside, just as Amrita, one of the doctors, stopped me,

"Oh hi, I thought you wouldn't come, I thought the hospital would receive yet another resignation from this post."

I gave her a small smile, "I know, but I wouldn't miss a day."

Amrita gave me a strong smile, "You're very attached to them, and so are they. Thank you."

I nodded, yet again blinking back tears, "I know, and don't thank me."

She left after that, probably not knowing how to comfort me. Although doctors were known to be able to handle situations like these, but sometimes when the staff was together, we didn't know how to handle ourselves, let alone each other. As these emotions consumed me for the umpteenth time, I put up a smile and walked in.

The kids were all patiently waiting, and my eyes flickered to Remy's empty seat. I quickly looked at them, and started an activity before things could get to me. Midway through pressing her purple painted hand on the paper, little Anaa innocently looked up at me and asked,

"Where's Remy?"

I looked at her for a moment, and gently pushed back the hair on he rface before carefully answering,

"She's in a better place, Anaa."

Anaa looked at me with curios eyes before shaking her head, "No. We're all here, why is she at a better place?"

I sighed at her question, and pulled her closer, making her sit on my lap as I dipped her hand in green paint and pressed it on the paper,

"Anaa, do you know that everything that happens around us is because of Allah's will?"

When she nodded against me, I continued, "Well, Allah is the one who gives us this life. He sends us away from him for us to live here, he writes our food, our lives, and everything we ever need beforehand. He takes care of us all the time, and Allah loves us much much more than our mothers. Even we breath, we do so because Allah allows us to, you're getting me?'

She nodded against my shoulder, and I said, "Just like that, if Allah has willed for Remy to...not be here, then it is like that. We can remember her, and we know she's in a better place, so we should be good children, and good servants of Allah, and accept things the way they are. No matter how we are or what our situation is, we must remember that Allah is there for us, and Allah's will is everything."

I wondered if she actually understood my words, but when I saw her pondering over my words, I let her be for a few minutes before easing her tension.

My mind replayed my own words, and I didn't know if I was convincing and comforting Anaa or myself.

***

I walked into the empty home with Mehek and Muskaan, locking the door behind me. I looked up to find his coat on the sofa, and furrowed my eyebrows.

"Zaid?" I called out, lowering a fast asleep Mehek on the sofa and securing her, before ushering Muskaan to freshen up.

Hearing some ruffling in the bedroom, I walked in,

"Zaid, when did you..."

I trailed off, falling short of words as I saw what he held in his hands.