Jharoka

Introduction

Exactly one week ago today at around 4:15pm, I received the most dreaded phone call of my life and one that feels as though my life’s trajectory has been permanently shifted. On the other end of the line was my brother, breathless, to inform me that our dear mother had suffered a heart attack and was receiving a procedure to remove blockage from her arteries. He told me to pray and that he would keep me informed. What seemed like both a lifetime and minutes apart, I received another call from him to inform me of some complications and plans that were being developed to have her transferred to another hospital given her unstable condition. Another few minutes passed and another call, informing me that her procedure was over and that plans were still underway to transport her, but needed her condition to be stable. Until then they would shift her to the cardiac ICU. Somewhat relieved, I prayed with every prayer that came to my mind and tongue for her health and recovery and wish that I could transport myself magically to be with her hundreds of miles away. Another few minutes passed, and another call with another update – upon shift to the cardiac ICU, she immediately suffered another heart attack but was revived after administration of CPR, cardiac defibrillation and medications. And then the phone disconnected. Within some short span of time, the phone rang again with the final and most dreaded news – “Hina, she’s gone! She suffered yet another heart attack and she’s no more” as he gasped for air to get the words out.

That moment marked my mother’s wedding with eternity. The remaining activities and processes through her burial the next day (Friday, which coincidentally also happened to be what would have been my father’s 90th birthday – he passed only two months prior) remain much of a blur. Deep down my heart desired to do something immediate and actionable for my mother as a tribute and a sadqa jaria (ongoing source of blessings) for her.

This is where “Jharoka” comes in. My maternal grandfather was a lover and author of Urdu poetry, which was something that each of his seven children and many of their offspring developed individual passions for. My mother authored an Urdu poetry newsletter many years ago and named it “Jharoka”. Jharoka is a porthole / decorative but discreet window that allows light in and provides a view of the world with privacy. This could not be a better descriptor for my mother. In the coming days, weeks and years, my hope (God willing) is to build this platform to blog/journal about my mother, my father and eventually develop as a foundation for ongoing sadqa jaria for both of them. May God give me the ability to carry this out – Ameen.

If you have made it to this post / page, I would be most appreciative if you could say a prayer for my beloved mother. Thank you.