It was becoming hard to live with the thought that one day she might leave me. She will rest in peace leaving me restless.

She moved in with me. I convinced her to follow her routine, that nothing has changed. I'd drop her to her college, pick her from the public library, wait for her at the diner to teach the girl. We adopted the routine again.

I'd lead her in Ishaa. She'd wake me up for tahhajud°. We had cried together in qiyaam° when I would recite Qur'an. We'd do recitation duos. She'd listen to me reading Qur'an. Her eyes never ceased to shed tears on every verse of Judgement day and hellfire I'd recite. We'd break our fasts together in evenings.

It was beautiful to have her smile lighten my heart from most of my stress. We'd talk till late nights. She'd listen to me patiently.

With every second with her my heart swelled more with the love of her. The deeper the ocean, more easy it is to drown. I dreaded her absence. Maybe it was the fear of loss that increased my passion towards her. I was addicted to her.

More than six months passed. Ever grateful to God, I am, she was healthy. I took her to routine check ups, made her take her medications timely, made sure she eat well. Those were the best days of this wasteful life of mine. We enjoyed little things, like making dinner together, or rearranging our fridge, or cleaning our attic, or sharing a cup of coffee.

Once we realise life is much more than material physical things, and this is all gonna end eventually, we become more receptive to change. We become less attached to things. It becomes easy to let go, to lessen the burden of social pressure we ourselves have loaded onto our backs.

As she usually does, she woke me up one night for qiyaam. We made wudu° and offered our regular prayer. She turned to me after we were done.

"When I go Subbi.....," She had said, "I want you to pray for me."

"I always will," I said.

"When you get to Jannah° and if you don't find me there...," she had said, "ask me from Allah."

I shushed her. I couldn't think of that day yet. I wasn't ready for that day. I keep pushing the thoughts of that day to the back of my head. But she? She always brought that topic to life.

She remained in sujood° for a long time then. I let her talk to her Master. Meanwhile I myself was making dua.

Little did I know, that God took her at the most beautiful time, in the most humblest position.

That those were her last words to me, that she'd be gone just like that," Subboor talked with tears in his eyes. It was becoming hard for him to talk. I did not push him. I let him be.

"I did not knew, I'd pray her janaza° before zuhr° that day. That I'd lower her myself in her grave. That I'd return to an empty cold house. That her smile won't lighten me. That she'd no longer be there for me. That I'd die everyday. Drowning in every memory of her, being at places I once had been with her." He began to shake, crying. I think he hadn't let himself cry. He indeed needed an outlet.

He cried his eyes out. I sat there with him. After he was done, he said, "I loved her in a wrong way Ismaeel. You know where I went wrong? I was absolutely cherishing the gift of her presence in my life so much so, that she became a part of the fabric of my life. When she was gone, the fabric of my life was ruined. That it can never be like it was before. My life turned out to test me with her absence. It's been two months she's been gone.

I do not blame God for taking her away from me. Inna lillahi wa Inna ilaihi raajioon. Everything belongs to God and to him all shall return. But I thank Him. I thank for gifting a segment of her life with me. A sinful soul as me could never deserve her except if it wouldn't be for His mercy towards me. I'm grateful I have enough memories of her to keep me sane and insane at the same time. It is equally blissful and painful to remain in the memories of her.

I don't know what her mother, her parents are going through. She's been married to me for less than a year and had so much impact on me. She's spent her entire life with them. I can't imagine their pain. Loss of child is the biggest test in life. Talking to them about her causes more pain.

But I know in the end, this is all gonna pay off. The suffering, my regrets of not being the best husband, the pain of her loss, the tears I couldn't share with anyone. This would all mean nothing when we both will meet in Jannah. In Shaa Allah. That would be forever," he sniffed.

He thanked me for listening to him with patience. We parted as friends. We'd meet often. He became a regular musalli again at our common mosque as before. We'd hang out sometimes if he had time. He busied himself in his work to find refuge from her absence. He worked real hard and opened the halal banks. You know Al Fauz Banks, it's his.'

Haaniya wiped a tear soaked in her lashes. She smiled and gloved his hand again, "so....."

Ismaeel sighed out, "This was Falah you wanted to know about. And the patience of Subboor."

"Did you tell him that you've been blessed with a daughter?" She asked.

He nodded smiling and turned towards his daughter's crib. She followed his gaze. Their princess should've been awake by now. They walked to the crib to peek in

Little Falah stared at them with her glittering eyes.

                ~~~~~The End~~~~~

Edit:
The concept of reincarnation is not entertained here. Ismaeel named his first born after Falah because he had great respect for her. Muslims believe in resurrection not reincarnation.

Translations

°Tahhajud (voluntary night prayer)

°Qiyaam (the standing in the prayer)

°Wudu (preparation for prayer)

°Jannah (paradise)

°Sujood (prostration)

°Janaza (prayer for the dead)

°Zuhr (afternoon prayer)