Tag Archives: KSA

A Time to Heal

WARNING: Please don’t read this if you are getting treatment for cancer.

My late husband R was lured by false hopes of cure from cancer to a hakim by one of his relatives. We had come back from KSA after my operation. I needed more time for recovery from surgery, but we didn’t stay as he needed his treatments for stomach cancer.

When R told my son, and I of his intention to visit the hakim, we did our best to dissuade him from doing so. I wasn’t a believer in hakim therapy, and R’s previous visits to such people bore testimony to this fact. The sad thing was R was at the stage where he was clutching at straws. It pains my heart about writing this.

Despite our pleading, he didn’t listen to us, and went to the hakim with his relative. On returning he took the medicine, and vomitting started. We took him to the cancer ward of the hospital. He was taken from there to the ICU of Armed Forces Institute of Cardiology (AFIC). When his heart stabilized, he was moved back to the room at the the cancer unit where he was getting his treatment.

The day before his last day of life, I trimmed his beard, and hair. I changed his clothes after feeding him. He went to sleep, and he never woke up. The reason was the nurse forgot to give him his heart medicine for the last two days. Another was she gave him tablets for sleeping whereas he was in deep sleep, and his vomit went to the lungs.

At night when he wasn’t waking up, he was moved to Intensive Care. Sad to say the nurses, and the doctors there were inefficient too. He died of cardiac arrest at 11am. Prior to his death he was struggling to breathe. My children, and I made repeated visits to the doctor in charge to come and take a look. No one came. 

I believed he still would have a few more years with us, but it didn’t happen. 

I wish he had never gone to the hakim. It hastened his death. He thought he would get healed, but he didn’t know it will get him sooner to the grave.



Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.



Now that you’ve got some blogging experience under your belt, re-write your very first post.

M͟Y͟ F͟I͟R͟S͟T͟ P͟O͟S͟T͟

FEBRUARY 24, 2013
This is my first blog so I will begin with myself. I am a mother of two kids. I am currently on a visit to Riyadh and staying with my daughter. I love it here. I like the Arabs. People around the world are so misguided about them. I like the way they dress irrespective of whether they are rich or poor. The women are in abayas and have their faces covered. I wish I could do the same. I will continue with the abaya when I go back to my country, insha’Allah. I am used to wearing a chador partly hiding my face but I have found that wearing an abaya covers you more. Plus, an abaya leaves your hands free and you are not fiddling all the time trying to cover yourself properly. I am trying to learn Arabic. It is simply beautiful. My teacher with whom I study the Quran in-depth once said, “It’s the language of Jannah”. Here is a picture of where I am staying.

A͟ R͟E͟ W͟R͟I͟T͟E͟

I am finding it difficult to re-write what I wrote a year, and a a half ago. When I wrote my first post I had no experience with writing. It was so exciting to attempt my first write.

I can’t write the same thing all over again. The only thing I can do is to add a bit more to it.

It was my third visit to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA). On the last two visits my husband R had accompanied me. Sadly he was no longer alive, and now through out life I had to navigate my journeys alone.

I had gone to Riyadh for a two week visit, but my daughter made me extend it to two months. My visit was about to get over, when Nola (my daughter) introduced me to the idea of blogging.

If I can go back in time I will forego telling one, or two people about my blog. The only thing I can do is to start a new one with a new name, so those I was foolish enough to tell, won’t be able to read me.

I started wearing the abaya after I came home to Peshawar. I felt very comfy in it. It made me feel safe when I had to do all the outside jobs R did for me. I wore the abaya standing in line to board the flight to Houston from Qatar, prompting the airport officials to tell me that maybe I was standing in a wrong line.

I had to stop wearing the abaya, when it became apparent that I was thought off as a security risk, while flying from one city to another here. It doesn’t get through some thick skulls, that a person bent on mischief won’t stand out in dressing. He or she will try to conform what the majority wears.

I will again start wearing it once I am back in my home country.

I am still learning Arabic one word a day, and has not progressed very far in it; cause the books I bought (to learn it), from Jarir book shop in Riyadh, are lying back home.

One big omission was taking photographs in, and around Riyadh. This time, if I go, I will keep on taking photos of all the lovely mosques, and fantastic buildings I saw there. Riyadh looks marvelous at night time with lighting.