A Ray of Hope: Shahreen’s Courage

A Ray of Hope: Shahreen’s Ayesha

BY:Khan

Saleem“Shahreen, open the door!”

Outside, the sun blazed down like fire. It was a large house divided into three sections, connected by a central gallery. Shahreen’s mother occupied a small two-marla portion, which had a single room, a store, a kitchen, and a shed. Her two paternal uncles lived in the other two sections.

Shahreen’s mother called again, rattling the latch: “Shahreen, my daughter, open the door!”

Hearing her mother’s voice, Shahreen ran and opened the door. Her mother stood outside, drenched in sweat. Shahreen quickly ran to get a glass of Rooh Afza with ice and handed it to her. Her mother drank it in one go and then poured a glass of cold water on top, gulping it down.

“Uff Allah… the heat is unbearable. It feels like hell itself is pouring fire,” her mother said, exhausted.

“Mother, who told you to go to the market right after father’s pension arrived? You could have waited until it was cooler. Didn’t you think of us?” Shahreen scolded, speaking without fully understanding the situation.

“My daughter, for God’s sake… who is responsible here? Is it a four-year-old child or your uncles, who never take an interest in their younger cousin’s needs?”

Shahreen’s uncles were Azfar and Ajmal. Their elder uncle, Ikram, had a government job and had merged his small portion with a five-marla house to make a comfortable home. Ikram had a proud daughter, Sarah, studying for her MA, and a son, Azfar, working in a private job. The younger uncle, Asghar, had two sons; one had gone to Kuwait after completing FA, and the other, Ajmal, was studying matriculation. Their uncle’s market had a grocery store, which was flourishing.

Shahreen’s father had worked in a government office but passed away due to a heart attack. His pension now supported the family. Shahreen’s mother struggled to manage life with that small amount, barely able to make ends meet.

Finally, her mother came inside, muttering as she moved to the veranda, where the pedestal fan whirred loudly, giving some relief from the oppressive heat. Time, at least, kept moving forward. Shahreen had completed her BA and started working at a private school, while her younger sister, Zareen, had finished matric and was heading to college.

One night, her mother suddenly fell ill. Shahreen ran to Uncle Ikram’s house at three in the morning, but they did not open the door. She ran to the younger uncle’s house, woke them up by banging loudly, and they finally opened the door.

“What happened that you are banging the door at this hour?” they exclaimed as they stepped outside.

“My mother… she has fallen very ill!” Shahreen said, sobbing uncontrollably.

The uncle murmured, “Your mother was perfectly healthy. What happened? You left your father’s care and brought this misfortune?” They followed her inside, where her mother was unconscious. Ajmal helped carry her to the car, and they rushed her to the hospital.

“Your mother has suffered a heart attack,” the doctor said after examining her in the emergency room.

“Please, doctor, save my mother! I will do anything!” Shahreen pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

“Insha’Allah, everything will be fine. Pray for her,” the doctor reassured her.

Her uncles did not even lay a hand on her mother and went home, exhausted. Ajmal, who had now completed FA and started a private job, comforted Shahreen:

“Shahreen, your mother will recover. You need to stay strong, otherwise, what will happen to Zareen and Ali? If you need money, you can take it from me.”

Shahreen replied, “Thank you, brother. Father’s pension and my salary are enough for now; I don’t need anything yet.”

By morning, the doctor returned with troubling news: her mother needed surgery immediately, costing ten lakh rupees. Otherwise, she could not survive due to her weak heart. Shahreen panicked. Their small two-marla house could not fetch enough money even if sold. She pleaded with her uncles to transfer their shares to help pay for the treatment.

“My money is already spent on sending Afzal abroad. I cannot help now,” said the younger uncle. The elder uncle also refused. Shahreen, with a determined look, decided to contact her brother Afzal, who had earned a good sum in Kuwait.

Ajmal called Afzal and explained the situation. “Congratulations, Shahreen! Afzal is sending the money. It will arrive by tomorrow,” Ajmal said.

“Really? Are you serious?” Shahreen exclaimed in disbelief, tears of relief streaming down her face.

She immediately gave two lakh rupees as advance for the surgery. The operation was successful, and her mother regained consciousness.

“Who paid for my treatment?” her mother asked. Shahreen explained, “Mother, Afzal sent the money. God helped us through him.” Her mother blessed Afzal with prayers, overwhelmed by gratitude.

The next day, when her mother returned home, she greeted everyone with joy. Shahreen and Ajmal did not mention the money to anyone.

One night, loud screams woke Shahreen and her mother. Rushing outside, they saw that Uncle Ikram’s house was on fire. The entire house had burned to ashes due to an electrical short circuit. Thankfully, Ikram, his wife, and Sarah were safe, though their hands were badly burned. Shahreen’s mother brought them into her small portion.

“Stay here until your house is rebuilt,” she said kindly.

“I am sorry, Sakina. I burned in jealousy, never helping you. See what God has done,” said the elder uncle, apologizing.

“Don’t say that. This is your house too,” Shahreen’s mother replied. Soon, the other uncle’s family also came, realizing the importance of helping others.

“Today we learned that if we don’t help someone, we might also need help tomorrow. We now request Shahreen’s hand for Afzal as a token of gratitude,” said the younger uncle.

Shahreen, overwhelmed with happiness, realized that God’s help had arrived at the right time, not just saving her mother but also opening hearts and teaching everyone the value of kindness. Truly, whatever God does is for the best.