A Short Story By Adnan Baig

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror and struggling to hold back her tears, Fatima starts performing her wudu. Just as the water touches her hands though, she is transported back to her childhood. To the memory of her mother Maryam, teaching her how to do wudu for the first time.

                    “Ok bubbly, first we say…”  

They both speak together. “Bismillah Hir Rahman Nir Raheem”  

                  “Good! Well done, Fatima! Now we wash our hands three times…”  

“Ah Mum! Waters cold!”  

                  “Sorry sweetie, it’ll warm up in just a sec. Try it now. See, nice and warm.”  

Fatima washes her hands three times.  

                  “Good girl, now we wash our mouth, how many times?”  

“Three!” Fatima says lifting her arm up to the mirror and raising four fingers.  

                  Maryam laughs. “That’s four silly.” Gently curling one of Fatima’s fingers back into her hand she whispers into Fatima’s ear. “That’s three my lovely.”

                  “Good, very good. Now the nose, put water in your hand and pour it into your nose. That’s it and blow it out. Good. Now 2 more times. Very good Fatima! Now we wash the whole face three times.” Fatima washes her face twice and then Maryam washes it for her the third before giving Fatima’s cheeks a big squeeze and kissing her forehead. They both giggle together.  

Fatima catches herself giggling in the present. Looking at herself in the mirror the pain of the situation becomes almost too much to bear. She breaks down in tears but with the greatest strength she can muster she continues the wudu and instantly returns to that fondest of memories.  

                  “Now sweetie, wash your arms up to the elbows, right first then left. Good, that’s it. Just like that. Now the left.”  

“Now my head just once!” says Fatima.  

                  “Yes! Well done bubbly! Very good you remembered what I told you! Now your ears… and now the feet.”  

Maryam lifts Fatima up so she can stand in the sink and washes her feet for her.  

                  “Three times on the right, three times on the left. All done.”  

Maryam smiles the kind of smile only a mother could give to a child and then gives Fatima a biggest and tightest of hugs.  

                  “My little sweetie. I love you bubbly!” Maryam kisses Fatima on the cheek and rests her head on her shoulder next to Fatima’s smiling once again, in that most loving of ways that only a mother can.  

Fatima back in the present, can no longer hold back her emotions, she breaks down completely and falls to the floor crying loud enough her father hears her from across hall in the other room.  

He rushes in. “Fatima! Fatima!” He immediately gets down on the ground and tightly hugs Fatima, rocking gently back and forth trying desperately to be strong himself.  

                  “I know petal, I know. It’s ok my love, she’s in heaven now. She’s in heaven.”