Wednesday, May 09, 2007


On 1st May 2007, aruah Seha's husband received his calling. It was his time.

He was diagnosed with lung cancer too just like the one that took Seha. Except for him, lungs werent the only site where cancer resided. His kidneys and spine were affected too. To top it, he had a stroke on the day he was supposed to start on a new drug regime.

I visited him once at the hospital together with my little entourage. That was the first time I met him. It turned out to be the first and only time we met. In between hushing Sun and Dot, we talked about aruah Seha, his cancer, the treatment options etc and throughout the chat my impression was, what a nice nice person he was and how he would be absolutely alright, as i could see that he was all out to fight the cancer, he wasnt going to let cancer got the better of him. I told him that i have absolute faith in modern medicine to which he chided me gently that i should have absolute faith in God instead..

We exchanged a few sms-es after that. And i checked on him often through his brother (who happens to be my colleague). I heard that he wasnt getting better and then i heard he was on morphines and nothing else. And i began to hear more and more despair in the stories that his brother told me.

I wondered how he must be feeling when doctors obviously gave up on him. How does one feel when one knows the end is near - only a matter of days? I suppose knowing is a blessing, you know more or less how limited your time is and you can then make your preparations as best you can - say your goodbyes, pay your debts, make peace with all, and qadha' and taubat etc. But i can only imagine the fear of the unknown. Death is so final, so absolute and so foreign too. Nobody ever made it back here to tell us all that it was going to be okay. Nobody could. One of His many secrets. And so i suppose in waiting, perhaps the pain was most welcome, at least it kept the mind off the inevitable.

I remember reading about a poet from Indonesia, who lived to die. He only longed for death so he could be reunited with his Creator. Everyday he hoped his sleep would be an eternal one. He was so in love with God and i could only read about him with envy. I am jealous of the love he seemed to have with God, his, mine, everyone's. Me, i am too in love, too involved with this thing i call my life. Sigh... God help me.

I may not know encik Azmi very well, but i am assured that he was called to a better place. What place could possibly be better than the eternal one, the promised one?

Al fatihah.