Mirage of Traditions

I hadn’t seen Abdul in eight years. The last time he could have seen Ahmed was when I was four months pregnant with him. He’d told me that I couldn’t call him until my baby was born, unless it was an emergency.

I was used to his curtness and coldness, but this time he had gone too far. I needed help. I didn’t know what to do, who to turn to, or where to go. So I called him from a payphone outside the hospital and stood in silence, watching the cars speed past me on the busy street for almost a minute before he answered.

“Hello? Who is this?” His voice was gruff like sandpaper. “Who is this? Where are you? What do you want?”

“It’s Yasmin, your daughter-in-law. Please don’t hang up! Please listen to me; it’s my son…my son has been sick since yesterday morning and now he can barely breathe. We went to the doctor and they said that he needs to be admitted right away because his condition is critical! They said it could kill him if we don’t get him there right away!” My voice cracked as tears welled up in my eyes. I had lost control of my emotions for a moment and wanted to kick myself for being so weak in front of such a hothead.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Abdul spoke again. “Where are you? How did this happen? Is this your fault? You should have looked after him better if you wanted to see me again in your lifetime! What kind of a proper mother are you? Is this what foreign education does to women? You become selfish, ungrateful…you think you can just call me up out of nowhere after eight years and expect me to drop everything and fix everything for you?! You think I will buy you a gold necklace and take you out to dinner at Olive Garden just like that?! You think the world revolves around you now that you’re living in America all fancy and rich like those celebrities on television?! Well it doesn’t! When are you going to realize that not everyone is meant to sit around eating steak and drinking wine every night while their wives stay at home taking care of their babies!? Not everyone gets so happy whenever they step inside an air-conditioned car or open their refrigerator only to find everything they have ever wanted! Everyone has problems here Yasmin! Everyone struggles here! And some people don’t have time for your little dramas and melodramas! Some people have bigger fish to fry than taking care of your child when he gets sick! And by fish…I mean important work related matters or business deals – not kitchen duties or diaper changes! So if anything unfortunate happens…if your child dies…it won’t be because of us…it will be because of YOU! You haven't even bothered calling and checking up on us after all these years…but now that things aren't going your way...you decide it's time we save your ass again?! No chance young lady; now call someone else because I am not interested in helping you at all...not even one bit." He slammed down the phone violently as soon as he was finished speaking, leaving me standing on the side of the road crying hysterically into my hands while other pedestrians watched helplessly as they passed by, wondering what had happened.

I stood on the side of the road, my hands trembling as the weight of Abdul's words sank in. Never before had I heard such venom in his voice, such disregard for his own grandson's well-being. How could he be so heartless? I wiped away my tears, determined to find a solution on my own.

Glancing down at Ahmed, who was curled up in my arms, struggling to breathe, I knew I couldn't waste any more time. With determination in my eyes, I hailed a passing taxi. The driver, a middle-aged man with graying hair, peered at me sympathetically as I climbed into the backseat.

"Where to, miss?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I gave him the address of the nearest hospital, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart. As the taxi accelerated through the city streets, I cradled Ahmed, whispering soothing words to him, hoping that he would find comfort in my voice.

Arriving at the hospital, I rushed inside, navigating through the maze of hallways until I reached the emergency room. I could feel the panic rising within me, but I swallowed it down, determined to be strong for my son.

The doctors and nurses sprang into action as soon as they saw Ahmed's condition. They whisked him away, promising to do everything in their power to help him. Alone in the waiting room, I paced back and forth, my mind consumed with worry and anger at Abdul's callousness.

Hours turned into an eternity as I anxiously awaited news of Ahmed's condition. Thoughts of Abdul's harsh words kept creeping back into my mind, fueling the fire of resentment. How could he abandon us like this? Was his ego more important than his own grandchild's life? I vowed to protect Ahmed with everything I had, to shield him from the darkness of his grandfather's absence.

Just as despair began to settle within me, a doctor emerged from the double doors, his expression grave. I held my breath, fearing the worst.

"He's stable," the doctor said, relief evident in his voice. "We managed to stabilize his condition, but he'll need to stay in the hospital for a while and receive continuous treatment."

Relief washed over me, mingled with a renewed determination to navigate this challenging ordeal by myself. Abdul's absence only solidified my resolve to be the best mother I could be.

In the following days and weeks, the hospital became our temporary home. I spent my days and nights by Ahmed's side, watching over him as he fought to recover. The doctors and nurses became our family as they tirelessly worked to bring him back to health. Seeing their dedication only increased my resolve to create a loving and supportive environment for Ahmed, to counterbalance the void left by Abdul's absence.

One morning, as the sun peeked through the hospital window, casting a warm glow on Ahmed's sleeping face, a nurse entered the room with unexpected news. She held a phone out to me, her eyes gentle and full of understanding.

"It's for you, Yasmin," she said, her voice tinged with kindness.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I wanted to hear Abdul's voice again after his heartless words. But a mother's love always outweighs pride, so I reached out and took the phone.

"Hello?" I said tentatively, my voice filled with a mix of apprehension and hope.

"Yasmin, it's me," Abdul's voice came through the receiver, surprising me with its softness.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized that beneath his anger lay a flicker of remorse. Perhaps he was beginning to understand the gravity of his actions, the toll they took on his family. I listened intently, letting him speak.

"I...I'm sorry, Yasmin," he said, his voice filled with a vulnerability I had never heard before. "I let my anger and pride get in the way of doing what's right. I should have been there for Ahmed, for you. I know it's not enough, but I want to make amends. Please, let me be a part of his life."

Tears welled up in my eyes once again, but this time, they were tears of relief and hope. I took a deep breath, considering his words carefully.

"Abdul," I began, my voice steady, "I want Ahmed to have a grandfather. But I can't just forget the pain and hurt you caused with your words. If you truly want to be a part of his life, you need to show us that you're willing to change, to be there for him without conditions. It's not just about the good times; it's about being present through the difficult moments as well."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and I feared that Abdul had disconnected the call. But then, his voice came through, filled with sincerity.

"I understand, Yasmin," he said, his voice laden with regret. "I will make it right. I want to be a better grandfather, a better father. I promise to be there for Ahmed, to support both of you unconditionally."

A wave of relief washed over me as I realized that Abdul's words held the potential for redemption. As our conversation continued, a glimmer of hope sparked within me, a belief that, perhaps, our fractured family could heal. And I vowed that no matter what happened, my love for Ahmed would be unwavering, and together, we would navigate the complexities of life, one step at a time.