Broken Wings: Prologue

Prologue

I watched her sleeping peacefully on the bed. Seeing her in this kind of state made my eyes watered. Every time I watched her calm, wrinkly face, I knew that she’s still fighting. She’s been here for almost a month and her progress was still the same. I’ve been taking turn with my brother and sister lately since I got work to do. But it didn’t mean that I totally left her here with no reason. As the eldest son, I’ll do anything for my mother, the most important person in my life.

I lost my father when I was 17 years old, two and a half months before sitting for the MCE examination. It was the most devastated year I ever had. But my mother instilled my will back again. I’ve been given a new hope. And now, it’s my turn to give the hope to her. I slowly touched her thin, wrinkled hand and slowly squeezed it. Deep inside my heart, I prayed for her health. I wanted to see her smiling face which was brighter than the sun.

I turned around as I heard someone opened the door. It was my sister, Humaira. She came with my aunt, Nazatul. They brought foods and drinks and put them on the table near the sofa.

“Where’s Aswad?’ I asked Humaira.

“He said he’ll be here after his class end,” she replied. “You look tired, Abang. You should eat and rest.”

“Humaira cooked Chinese fried rice for you, Abyadh. Come and have some,” said Aunt Nazatul and served the rice for me.

I smiled and sat beside her on the sofa. Humaira sat on a chair near mother’s bed. I ate the rice and it was delicious. It was my favourite, and mother’s too. I asked Aunt Nazatul to eat together but she said she’s eaten with Humaira at home.

“How’s mother today?” asked Humaira.

“The doctor said that she got strong will and she’ll recover soon,” I replied.

“That’s a good news,” Humaira sighed in relief. “I’ll accompany her tonight. You can go back home and have a good rest,” she told me.

“But today it’s my turn,” I said, wiping my mouth with a tissue as I finished the rice.

“It’s no big deal, Abyadh,” Aunt Nazatul patted on my shoulder. “I’ll be staying here with Humaira. You need to rest too or you’ll fall ill.”

I sighed and nodded. I’ve been taking care of my mother here for three days and I didn’t have enough sleep lately. I went back home after Maghrib and took a shower. I watched news for a while before I hit the sack.

As I was on my way to my room, I stopped at my mother’s room. Since she was hospitalized, this room was kind of abandoned. I slowly approached the door and turned the knob carefully. I switched on the light and looked around. The smell in this room didn’t change. I looked at the king-sized bed. I used to sleep there with mother and father whenever I felt scared.

I sat down on the bed and ran down my fingers on the comforter covering the bed. I pondered for a while before my eyes caught the small drawer near the bed. Mother always forbade me for opening the drawer when I was a kid. I wonder what she hid inside there. I hesitated for a moment but I need to know what’s inside. I opened the drawer and saw some books were neatly put inside.

I took out those books and looked at them one by one. They were covered in light blue leather. Light blue was mother’s favourite colour. She said that the colour symbolized peacefulness. I took the first book and flipped on the first page. It was a diary. I flipped randomly through the pages and saw her neat handwritings on each page. I never knew that Mother wrote a diary before. I flipped back to the first page. This one had been written in year 1971, which was 41 years ago.