The Girl in The Green Scarf

F i f t y - s i x | Hamsa

C H A P T E R

56

– H a m s a –

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
—Billy Crystal.

Rain pours, pelting the ground and almost drowning all sounds.

The voice of the Imam reciting dua's fills the main courtyard.

"O Allah, forgive our dead and have mercy on them. Keep them safe and sound, honour their rest and ease their entrance; wash them with water and snow and hail, and cleanse them of sin as a white garment is cleansed of dirt."

Despite my closed eyes, tears come down tumbling, hot and painful, mixing with the rain water on my face. I cry for Lamees, I cry for Fatima, I cry for Auntie Samiya and Uncle Nabil, I cry for Fayyad and for my parents. I cry for my bleeding land, and I cry for myself.

"O Allah, give them homes better than their homes and a families better than their families. O Allah, admit them to Paradise and protect them from the torment of the grave and the torment of Hell-fire; make their graves spacious and fill them with light."

This is farewell until we meet later in Jannat AlFirdous, In sha Allah.

"Assalamu 'alaykum wa rahmatu-Allah."

I do the final taslim, ending Salat Al Janazah then peel my eyes open.

Beside me Lana and Yusra are fighting back tears. Lana takes me in her arms, her embrace so tight and secure I don't want her to ever let go of me again.

A sob shudders somewhere deep inside of me and she rubs my back, whispering,

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un."

From behind me Yusra joins the hug, and we stand like that for a moment before breaking apart, each wiping away at the tears.

The horrible weather didn't stop anyone from being here to say goodbye to their dead.

All around us women are crying silently as we watched the men carry away the bodies of our beloved ones. Away to their graves.

146 deceased.

It took a very long time to gather all the bodies from the streets and under collapsed buildings, but today at last, they'll be buried and get their peace.

Yahiya makes his way towards us through the dispersing crowd, hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his beard.

"Assalamu Alaikum," he greets Yusra and Lana.

"Salam, Yahiya."

"I'll meet you at home after the burial," he tells me.

"Actually, I'll be at Madame Moneera's."

I still couldn't grasp the concept of being home, specially alone. AllI do is torture myself by staring at Lamees' bedroom windows across the street.

But I don't tell Yahiya this. "I want to check on Hani and Zeina."

They're still at Madame Moneera's, since we are almost always at the hospital with Sebastian and Zayn.

"Okay then, I'll come by too In sha Allah."

"In sha Allah," I say, touching his shoulder.

He gives me a faint smile and squeezes my hand, then turns to follow the Janazah.

"How is he doing?" Lana asks me as we watch him walk away.

"I think better. He is getting more sleep."