Winged Dreams

Chapter 1: Her Fragile Wings

9th September, 2015

"Does mankind think that they will be left to say, "We believe", and that they will not be tested?"

 (Quran 29:2)

Chapter 1:

Her Fragile Wings

Dina stared at her reflection in the mirror, and squared her shoulders, lifted her chin up and smiled confidently. Mere seconds was all it took for her stance to crumble as her eyes welled up with tears and she brought her hands to her face, as she sobbed bitterly.

"Ya Allah help me, Ya Allah please help me," she whispered as she wiped her tears and once again tried to practice the picture she was trying to portray. She rubbed the black trail the tears mixed with mascara left on her face and before her thoughts could take her to that haunted chamber, she grabbed her hand purse and walked out.

"I'm leaving, Mom," she called out as her mother was busy packing lunch for her ten year old sister and her four year old brother was wearing his shoes as he waited for the bus to take him to kindergarten.

"Dina, wait, eat your breakfast," her mother said but she was already out of the door.

"I'll buy a sandwich from the canteen, don't worry. Assalamu alaikum," she screamed as she ran to the gate. She didn't hire a cab just yet, and instead preferred to walk a few steps to clear her mind. She concentrated on her converse that hit the pavement and crushed the grass below her feet. She felt like that grass from inside, the events of yesterday too fresh to be forgotten.

People had told her that it was going to be tough, that she was too soft to face the complexities of this life, but her passion was beyond everything. Once she learnt about it, she couldn't not choose it. Even as her heart ached at the moment, and she didn't know how she would face the children today, she did not regret taking up this job.

The only thing she hated was that she had to hide her tears behind a radiant smile. She wished she could move into isolation and cry over the sorrows in this world, but all she could do was face her tiny tots with a cheery attitude. It was tough when life showed its darker shades and did not even give her a chance to pour her heart out. At that thought, she was yet again reminded of Umaiza and before she could break down, she waved her hand and got inside a cab.

"How are you doing?" Was the first question that she was greeted with by Dr.Reem when she entered the hospital doors.

"I'll be fine," Dina replied as she headed to the Cancer Ward.

"I'm honestly glad to see you today," the doctor said as she sighed in relief. "I almost thought that the hospital would receive its twentieth resigning letter from the job of a Play Therapist."

"I see how the nineteen people before me quit their job, and I understand how they must have felt, but don't worry, doctor, in sha Allah, I'm not quitting."

"As you say, in sha Allah," The doctor repeated and Dina walked ahead to prepare the activities for today.

It was a day like this when five years back, she had lost a part of herself in the cancer ward. At the age of sixteen, when that loved one breathed their last and the hand that she held froze forever, the very moment, she had decided on becoming a play therapist. People still gave her questioning, curious and clueless glances when she stated that she was a play therapist and she did not get tired of repeating the meaning of her vocation,

'As a play therapist in the oncology department, I deal with little children suffering from cancer, who maybe in the last stages of their life and make it fun for them, trying to reduce the pain from medication or even chemos.'