Train to Love ☑

Platform No. - 9

Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem.

Mubeena rushed through the corridors in search of the ward in which her daughter was.

Being a mother is difficult at times when your children go through something painful. Being a Mother is difficult when your children get hurt. Being a Mother is difficult when your children break down. Being a Mother is so much difficult because you undergo the same pain your children endure. If they smile, you feel happy. On the same note; if they cry, you feel the tears leaving your eyes.

It is very hard to be strong when your child, your blood, who you carried ten months in your womb, for whom your world revolves around, who you taught lessons of life, who you made yummy foods, who you love more than anything in the world break in front of your eye's. They say, a Mother's love is the biggest of all and it is so true.

She couldn't stay calm, when all the world she built around her with so much perfection, crumbled down.
She rushed inside the elevator and Allah knows what she was going through.

Her breath caught in her throat, for one instance she wanted to go back home and yell around that nothing wrong happened. She swallowed some saliva through her mouth and her lips remained parched.

After what felt like an eternity she was walking through the hallway that leads to her destination. Armaan was standing near a chair folding his hands, and his Mom sitting beside him.

"What happened?", Mubeena's voice was already broken as her heart was.

"Shabna", he ran a hand over his hair, "She fell down the stairs".

"Ya Allah!", her hand flew to her mouth.

There was complete silence in the corridor filled with nothing but euphoria and tension. Everyone felt guilty and tensed, for all of them were reasonable for the latter's pain.

Mubeena's eye's brimmed with unshed tears for she would never, ever forgive herself for doing this to her daughter.

She wanted to speak, ask about her whereabouts but she was unable to fathom where her voice has gone.
A multitude of agonizing minutes which felt like infinite years passed them, and finally, Dr. Jesima stepped out of the room.

Her eyes were grim.

One look at her eyes was enough to say that, indeed, their world has fallen apart.

Nothing could fix, what was broken. Even if they tried, they won't succeed, for there would be left with footprints of cracks all around the broken pot.

When no one dared to ask what had succumbed them, Jesima looked up to Mubeena. The only good person in the room.

With a storm in her gaze, she walked to her. "We couldn't save the baby Aunty", she said aloud.

Mubeena's eyes enlarged in tremor while her heart broke into millions of pieces, splattering its pieces to rip open her chest. She fell to her knees and her tears started to overflow. She clutched her hand's over her face as she cried out loud.

For they have lost, a life. An unborn life.

Her daughter's Lil angel.

Jesima patted her back as she sat down beside her." Aunty! Please don't cry", she swiped one of her tears which escaped somehow from her right eye socket, "You need to be strong for Shabna".

Armaan's Mom got up from her seat and marched towards them. Instead of grief, her face remained radiant.
"Why are you even crying? It was a girl child after all", she said carelessly. She felt happy inside that the baby died before entering the confines of this world.

......

Dr. Jesima's room was filled with a professional aura. For someone who was friends with her daughter, to be successful with a doctorate in her hand, Mubeena would congratulate her so much, given she was not in this particular situation.

The air around them didn't feel breathable for Mubeena, her head was already paining, due to a lot of crying.

Shabna's Dad was out of the country, so he was not able to be there for her.

She missed him and his presence, more than ever.

Mubeena juggled her fingers as she looked up at the doctor in front of her. In any other situation, Jesima's face would make her smile but now she felt choking up, looking at the person in front of her, She felt strangeness crawl through her lower body.

"When can we see Shabna?", Mubeena asked after decades of silence.

"When she wakes up, In shaa Allah",
Armaan twisted in his seat and grabbed the glass of water which was kept before him. He gulped it down as both of the ladies in the room, stared at his posture.

"So?", he again folded his hands as he placed the glass back on the table, "Why did you call us here?".

Jesima took a deep breath to calm herself from going into a fist of argument. "I am sorry to inform you--", she started while feeling dizzy all of a sudden, "due to this accident... ", she stretched not knowing how to unfold this to them.

When she didn't say what she was going to speak of, Armaan asked out loud, "Due to this accident, What?", agitated.

"Shabna can never be pregnant",

This news for both of the hearers was like an atom bomb dropped straight through their brains.

For Mubeena, the room suddenly started to swim in circles. For Armaan, he did not know in his dictionary how to react or what to do.

"You mean we won't be able to have a child of our own", he stroked his hair in a fury, "You mean we won't be able to have an heir?", he was burning with unknown rage.

"For Allah's sake! All you have to worry is to react for not having an heir now?", Jesima sat down straight in her leaning chair, the conversations about explaining about all the complications in Shabna vanished into thin air.

When Armaan didn't reply she stood up and stormed towards him.
"Your wife is practically in such a critical situation", she breathed, "She has had a miscarriage and as her husband, all you worry is this?", she pointed her finger towards him.

"Whatever! Not to be able to get pregnant is a bad stamp on a female's face", he stood up.

Jesima for once couldn't understand from which male chauvinistic society he was coming from.

"You should be more caring and more supportive to her now, she deserves that much humanity from you if not as a husband", she stomped her anger within herself for her dear friend.

Armaan didn't even cared to respond as he stormed out of the room.

"I don't understand. For fulfilling their desires, we become their slaves but when the fruit of their sowing doesn't blossom, they abandon us. What do they even think about us, a one time usable, styrofoam cup?", She bellowed loudly as she turned and she was shocked to see that Mubeena. The poor lady had fainted on her table, her head hanging low on the brim.

.....

Assalamu alaikum guys.
Hope you all are doing well.
For one instance please contribute your votes and share your views through comments.
And I have to address this issue with you all that my characters grow along with the chapters, so please don't avoid any chapter even though it sounds lame to you. Those are also the part of the story and the story builds up with them as the foundation.
Do you like the chapter?
What do you feel about it?
Sadly, this is the reality of so many women hidden in their homes with a title called "Housewife".