My eyes fluttered open, and all I could see were lights flashing. I could somewhat hear the whispers, but was unable to make anything out of them.
The next time I remember opening my eyes, I was in a hospital room. I could hear the heartbeat monitor. I gazed around the room. There was a small TV on the wall opposite the bed. On my right, there was a two-seater sofa.
As soon as the nurse saw me conscious, she asked “Miss Zarish, how are you feeling?” I narrowed my eyes and looked at her, confused as to why I was in this place. I separated my lips to answer, but didn’t have the energy to speak a single word, so I settled for a slight nod. My brain, on the other hand, was filled with thoughts and questions; “What happened to me? How did it happen? Who brought me here?” but the most important of them all, “Where are Jahanzeb and Aiza?”
The nurse asked me if I’d like to sit up, I murmured “Yes, please.” She lifted the head of my bariatric bed upwards. I had a quick glimpse of my body, my right leg was covered with blood-stained bandages, I had a drip attached to my left hand and a bandage on the other arm, the one you put after you get an injection. Within split seconds of glancing, thoughts started to emerge in my mind again. “What happened to me? How did it happen? Who brought me here?” With all of these thoughts gathering in my mind; all of a sudden, I had enough energy to move. I touched my face and realized there were tubes attached to my nose, there were multiple bandages on my face, my skin was sore from the bruises. The thoughts started to get more intense.
I started to recall things. I remembered getting up early in the morning to prepare Aiza’s annual play costume. She was playing the role of a bumble bee. Coincidentally, that was my nickname for her, bumble bee. She was the fattest little baby, I swear. And she looked so adorable in that costume.
“Think Zarish, think!” I said to myself. So I remembered waking up early, getting her costume ready, making breakfast. There were no eggs, so I served yogurt with parathas. Jahanzeb left for work, and I told him to get eggs on his way back. Aiza rehearsed at home, and I told her she was fantastic, even though she did forget some of her lines. But I didn’t want her to stress out about them right before the play. You know how kids get under stress. I couldn’t find the car keys. We were getting late. Aiza called Jahanzeb to see if he took them by mistake. We found the car keys. We got inside the car. But Aiza forgot her bag, so I ran back to get it…
“Aiza! Where’s Aiza?” I jolted forward. The nurse asked me to stay calm and keep my back on the bed. “God, no, please tell me I dropped her at school,” I thought to myself as I continued to remember what happened.
So we were in the car. I kept switching between FM89 and FM91. After much deliberation, I finally settled for FM89. “City FM89, we’re playing your song” filled the car, and our favorite song came up. “Ooo ooo, ooo ooo” Aiza sang. I laughed. She is the cutest; I tell you. “Is it too late now to say sorry?” We sang at the top of our lungs. There was a red signal, there was definitely a red signal, because I remember doing one of the moves from the music video with Aiza. She loves dancing. But what happened next? I kept thinking. My head started to spin and I started feeling dizzy again. Maybe it was the side-effect of the medicines they gave me. Soon, I fell asleep again.
The next time I woke up, Jahanzeb was there. He was holding my hand and resting his head on the bed. As soon as I moved my hand, he woke up. I could tell he hadn’t slept in a while, as his eyes were completely red. While rubbing his eyes, he said “You’re up, finally! How do you feel? Are you hungry? Should I get you something?” “Aiza,” I said. “She’s fine; you need to rest.” “Jahanzeb, where is Aiza?” I cried. He sat silently. So many thoughts started to cross my mind. Bad thoughts. Thoughts I didn’t want to talk about. So I just cried, and he kept holding my hand.
I asked the doctors, but they wouldn’t tell me either. “She’s my daughter; I need to know where she is,” I shrieked. Finally, Doctor Talha told me Aiza was in a coma. He said there were slim chances of her waking up, and we should consider taking her off life-support. I burst out at him for asking us to kill our baby. How could he ask us to do that? Jahanzeb instantly took him aside and talked to him alone. The doctors said she was in a lot of pain and taking off life support would relieve her from the suffering. But we can’t do that. She’s our baby. After all those clichéd school essays and debates in the favor of euthanasia, this really brought everything to perspective, didn’t it?
Later that day, the nurse handed me some of my belongings which were found in the car. My handbag, my phone, a USB, sunglasses and some papers. While going through them, I came across the script for Aiza’s play. On the top of right of the cover, in colorful pens, she wrote “Aiza Jahanzeb, Class 2 – C.” I read the entire thing, over and over again, crying the entire time. I kept recalling her rehearsals, her dancing, her singing, jumping here and there in her costume.
The notification light on my phone was blinking. I was surprised the battery lasted this long. Well, to be fair it was fully charged when I left the house and was currently at 12%. But still, worth commending. As soon as I unlocked the screen, Instagram popped up. Upload Caption: “Driving to the annual play with my little bumble bee! Wish us lvf;;nbd”. My eyes filled with tears as I pressed the back button. There it was. A video. And it all came rushing back. I was driving. I was making a video. I was using my phone.
I was numb for a couple of seconds. Then it hit me hard. “What had I done? How could I have done this? I was the adult. I shouldn’t have been so careless. I’m a monster,” I cried as I clenched the quilt in my hands. My cries got louder, and my heartbeat got faster. The nurse called for help, the moment she entered the room. She tried giving me an inhaler. But I threw everything away. My hair were all over my face, and I didn’t seem to care. I removed the drip from my arm and tore away the bandages. I screamed as the doctor injected me with a sedative. The last thing I remember is Jahanzeb running towards me and my vision blurred.
A week later, I got discharged from the hospital. On our drive to home, all I could think was about that drive to Aiza’s school. All this time, I never thought about what Jahanzeb was going through. What had I inflicted upon him? I took away our only child away from him. All because of my carelessness. It was bad enough that I proved to be a terrible mother, but a terrible wife as well? Why wasn’t he mad at me? Why wouldn’t he curse at me? Would he ever manage to forgive me for the irreplaceable damage I had done? Would Aiza ever forgive me?
A month after the incident, I was looking at our garden from the lounge window and all the memories came rushing back, the sports, the water fights, and the barbecues. I was completely lost in my thoughts. Jahanzeb poked me, “Chai?” as he offered me a cup. There was silence for a while until he finally spoke again “Zarish, I was thinking about what Doctor Talha said, and I think he is right about how much pain Aiza is in.” A month had passed since the incident, and today was the first time we talked about this. Before today, this wasn’t even an option. We were not ready to let her go. And perhaps, I still was not.
I kept sipping my chai silently. He finally took away my cup and placed both on the table. Now I didn’t have anything to pretend to be busy with. He held both my hands, “Zarish, look at me in the eyes please?” He kissed my hands and kept holding them firmly. I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. With a nod from my side, it was decided, Aiza would be put off life support. We stayed up that entire night, crying in each other arms in grief. We lost her. I lost her. I lost us our bumblebee.
