Shifa

This incident happened a few weeks ago but is still fresh in my memory. I have indeed been itching long enough to write about it, because this is the only way perhaps, I can open the door to spiritual healing for some of my friends.
The weekend was a busy one, and I was a bit under the weather, planning for a harder week ahead – with an event that is an annual extravaganza for my client. I had been on my feet whole day long, running around to fix my baby’s cot, do the grocery, and the chores were not yet complete… one of the last thing for the day was to order the new washer dryer from an agent in bur dubai, who had promised us a good discount. The target was to catch him before his closing time at 9:30 pm…and being on the run whole day, and knowing a harder week lies ahead, my mood was but obviously a bit more sulky.

We reached the shop just in time and there I met Shifa. A girl on a wheelchair, with an indescribably disfigured body which though covered in her abaya, made her disfigurement abruptly visible.

The order had to be made in cash, and while my husband was busy in the transaction, something in me went back to that girl in the wheelchair. Perhaps it was curiosity of looking at someone not amongst us, or perhaps it was sheer simplicity I saw in her baby like face.

She caught my side glance, and out of courtesy I smiled and nodded at her. She was quick to return my gesture and quicker to break the uncomfortable silence. What’s your name? Gloria, I replied. Wow, that’s a cool name! she cheered… What’s yours? I asked. Shifa, she replied! Hmm… nice, what does Shifa mean?

“Healing!” she answered. A twinge of pain streaked through my heart that moment. That name echoed her parents’ hopes, their dreams, and their insurmountable prayers to God to heal their child.

So Shifa, what do you do? I asked to carry on the conversation.

I study in the 6th grade, she was prompt to reply.
Wow, do you go to school? I couldn’t suppress my amazement on the liveliness of this young girl who though physically challenged was intellectually vibrant!

Nope, I can’t go to school because of my illness – she said it such a plain, matter of fact way. I take private tuitions because no school will take me in. I have Osteogenesis.

Is it something like osteoporosis? I was now becoming genuinely curious and she was quite happy to feed my curiosity, with a simple smile, showing no sign of intoxication by shame, guilt or suffering.

Well, a bit trickier than that. My bones are so weak; they will break right here if you pull me. I have weak bones since birth, so I can’t walk and my body has become a bit disfigured.

The realization of a weak body doesn’t ever hit you till you experience it. Imagine a bone breaking every other day by doing something as ordinary as trying to walk. I could feel the stinging sensation of fear in my gut imagining the pain every broken bone must be causing her. Yet I did not notice the pain on her face.

How old are you Shifa? Are you consulting some specialist doctors in Dubai? I wanted to know more, because I wanted to help. I am 16 now, we have consulted many doctors, the best in the world in fact, but this is a chronic condition that cannot be cured. I can only try decrease the frequency of broken bones. Now I simply want to grow up to help my dad with his electronics business and maybe manage his shop.

I continued the conversation for some time talking to her about my family, my daughter, little everyday insignificant things that can bring a smile to my face and maybe give her something to remember at the end of the day. She smiled, answered, played along and conversed with me as if we knew each other for a long time.

I looked at her father, who had a tearful eye, saying way too many things at the same time. Hopes and the dreams of her daughter that cannot be restrained by physical incapability, acceptance of the present, without regret, anger, frustration and guilt and most importantly, gratitude in the eyes, for me, to have spoken to his daughter, in a murky busy world that gives an embarrassed look, financial help, maybe pity at times, but not their precious time to make her feel one amongst us.

As I said goodbyes with a heavy heart, I could see the twinkle in Shifa’s eyes asking me to meet her again. Her eyes followed me as I passed her showroom window, her hands waving, and I could feel her eyes following me till I moved out of the street.

Shifa, I think, is the most apt name her parents could have kept. That day, Shifa healed a selfish busy person, blind to the imbalances of the world, too engrossed in her daily chores to take notice and thank God for the many hidden blessings that we take for granted. Her positive attitude to live, dream on and her drive to fulfill her ambition, despite her adversities, healed the self-inflicted suffering, stress and frustration we bring to ourselves by making insignificant things significant and much larger in size than what they genuinely are.

But most importantly, Shifa healed the insensitive part of me, who would often try and help others, maybe out of pity, guilt, or generosity, but not out of preference. I now know that nothing can heal a wound more than an unselfish smile, and a simple heart to heart conversation. Love cannot be replaced by money, and donations do not mean that we have done our part for the society. We need to spread smiles, love and Shifa!

This 30 minute healing brought to my life, will perhaps remain with me for a lifetime, thanks to Shifa!