“Ruqayyah settled in a seat next to Salman in a ride to Madinah where they resided. She was completely exhausted. Salman soon drifted off to sleep ten minutes into the journey while Ruqayyah rested her back on the seat reflecting comfortably.
It was exactly a year today since Saratu’s death. Not that Ruqayyah had purposely kept tab on the memory, it was just somehow automatically engraved in her heart since the night it happened – an unforgettable Friday night. She remembered how she had sought haven at Umm Ramlah’s home as she was too scared to sleep alone after she heard the news. Ummu Ramlah had kindly taken her in for days, helping her to deal with her grief bit by bit. And who was in the best position to do that anyway, if not someone who had been in such shoes before. Though, the loss of a friend could possibly not be as bitter as the loss of a husband, yet as Ummu Ramlah would say, “Pain is pain”.
