My dad had asked me to accompany him to the hospital. I had no problems with that, since I was not the one who was sick, nor was my dad. Instead we were going to see another person who was being treated at the hospital.
We reached the New Jeddah Clinic Hospital. I am very familiar with this place, because it's the hospital that my father's company had an agreement with. So every time anyone of us would be sick, we would end up here. It was 9pm and even before we got out of our car in the parking lot at the hospital, I told my dadthat I'll be fine in the car. He insisted I come. It was one of those moments that dad does to make me step into adulthood; to remind me that life is not all rosy and that hardships will have to be endured.
Waking up the steps made my beat a little faster than normal. I knew what I was going to see if I entered the patient's room. I knew it would be a scary moment for me, yet a part of me wanted to go and see. The strong antiseptic smell seemed a whole lot stronger, as my senses were heightened a whole lot. I was more aware of what's happening around me. One Egyptian patient moaning all alone on a stretcher with no one attending to him. A Saudi woman clad in an abaya with a sick baby was seated at the end of the corridor. A Sri Lankan man was mopping the floor at this end. A couple of Filipino nurses walked past by us. All the while my mind was filled the gruesomeness that I was about to see.
My dad and I got to the reception desk, where the nurse told us the room number. My mind was filled with doubt. Mansur, do you really want to see this? Should I? Am I a coward? I should be brave! I don't want nightmares. Within seconds, I found myself entering the elevator with my dad. He seemed as tense as I was. My dad is a very strong person, but even today he was wincing a little. I gathered that he and I would be witnessing something for the first time today.
We finally got to our destination. This is it. Mansur, you can still back out, I thought. No, I have made it this far, I might as well continue on this journey. My dad knocked on the door, and for a while we did not hear anything. Knock knock. No reply. My dad turned the door handle, and took a quiet step in. I followed him cautiously. I did not want to disturb the patient. We walked through the small passageway into the room itself.
I saw my dad's friend sitting at the other end of the room, with his head in his hands. He was so absorbed into his own thoughts, he did not hear the knocking on the door. I was thankful his two young daughters were not here with him. They certainly would not have been able to see this. I was absolutely transfixed to the woman lying on the bed. It was extremely difficult to see, but I did. She had been burnt alive.
I could only look at her face. Her hair had been burnt almost completely, leaving parts of her scalp exposed. Part of her face was also scarred heavily, like someone had ripped off her skin and rubbed burnt charcoal on it. This was a women who was so petite and soft spoken, with her beautiful long hair braided down to her knees. A woman who had moved to Jeddah from Pakistan and raising her two young daughters. A woman who was so kind to everyone in her apartment building. It was just unfathomable to comprehend as to what happened to just happened to her. One second changed her life complete!
Kitchen. Gas flame. Lit match. Explosion. Clothes on fire. Burnt. Husband at work.Daughters at school. Neighbors heard screams. Banged down locked door. Too late. Burnt but not dead. Burnt Alive.
The body was completely naked. It had to be naked for nothing could touch her skin- not even mesh guaze. There was a plastic box covering her entirely, which was covered with a large white cloth. It seemed like she was in a coffin already. I didn't know if she was sedated, or sleeping, or unconscious. I didn't know how much pain she was in at the moment. I couldnt even imagine the pain she must have been. All I could see was her burnt face. Our friend, took my dad up to his wife, and he removed part of the cloth. I was sitting away from the bed, but I managed to catch a glimpse of the body.
It was black. It was scarred heavily. She looked like a piece of burnt log. She lay there absolutely still. I could not see any patch of normal skin. I had never seen anything like this before. I had always prided myself that I can watch horror movies and not be scared, but this was horror of the worse kind. It was very difficult to witness this. Scenes replayed in my mind what the woman must have gone through in her kitchen when she was caught on fire. All I knew then was that this woman's burnt body has been etched into my mind for as long as I live. The worse part was that she was alive. She could barely communicate with her eyes. How incredibly painful and agonizing. Not being able to communicate.
The drive back home was the quietest one we have had till now.
Sometimes, I have dreams where I am walking the same familiar path in the hospital, leading up to the room. I don't see anyone in the hospital this time round. I am all alone now. I find myself standing next to the woman, peering into her blackened and burnt face, with her body covered. I just find myself standing there, not knowing what the deal is. What did she do to deserve this? Wy do bad things happen to good people? While staring into her face, her eyes suddenly open and I gasp for breath. I cannot seem to breathe in that room. She is helpless. She needs help. She is stuck in this box, with only her head sticking out. She tries to speak. I see the pain and anguish in her eyes. I am helpless too. I don't know how to help her. I see tears falling from her right eye down onto her pillow. Her body starts to tremble, and the whole bed starts to shake. I press the nurse button, but no one shows up. I am alone in this room, with this woman, shaking violently in her bed. She is trying to tell me something, but I am not able to make out what it is. All I can do then is just stand there, helplessly, peering into her eyes, till she closes them again and passes away.
Mansur
(True Story)
