Be a river

I run through the bright, breezy meadow as a crisp orange

leaf falls by me on the way to the train station, while stepping on each

dead leaf with my dark brown one inch heeled slightly dusty boots grasping as

much as fulfillment I can acquire from the noise. “Maliyaaa! Don’t you think

you’re a bit too old for that?” scoffs Azher. I almost immediately shoot

daggers at him to catch him abruptly look away and pretend to play with his

hair. I’ve known Azher since Nursery, but we never found it necessary to

communicate until university where we were the ones who knew each other. I

can’t remember how we became this platonically intimate but today I don’t know

where I would be without him. He can’t express it as well but he shows it

through his small meaningful actions. He pushes me way further than he had

intended to. “Ouch, AZHAR RAHIM WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” I use his full name in a

firm tone. “It's called the fall season for a reason, besides I won’t be seeing

you for two months” he says half of the words with inserted laughing along with

a face of melancholy. We say our goodbyes as I leave him with fresh coriander

in his palms knowing it was his favorite spice.

I walk through the station, after waving my last goodbye to Azhar. The quaint train draws

my attention. The elegance it possesses astonishes me, a tinted bronze rust, with the cloudy grey smoke leaving

the boiler, I mean that is what you would expect from a 1930 vehicle. The scent

of hot iron tracks waft through my nostrils, giving away that it had just

arrived. I take step into the train to feel a pull. It’s the front of my hijab

scarf. I couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on. The one thing I had

feared for a prolonged time is happening. My primitive instinct kicks in

and I take out my knife as immediately for self-defense purposes

and to only find that it is tugged on to the handle of the door. I breathe out

in relief. I remember since the age of 8 Baba taught me, there are people out

there who will take no second thought in harming someone just for their beliefs

or how they look. It was sad that the scarf I personally took so much pride in

wearing could be perceived as a place to hide a weapon or a symbol of a

religion of terrorism. To me it had always been something that upheld my

chastity and purity. It was my choice to come to this country and I had known I

would have to deal with dissimilar minded people. I had to learn that I

wouldn’t always be under the safety net of my home and parents. “She’s out to

kill us!” says a middle aged woman as I come back to what’s in front of me.

Realizing the knife is still held up high. I put it back. Before I can justify

myself, the lady and her two children push by me and find the seats that are happen to be the furthest

corner from me. I try not to pay attention but, it’s inevitable, she whispers

something hostile to them by the looks of it. 

My eyes swell up as my tears softly land on the African Emerald

blue-green gem on the necklace my Nona (grandmother) gifted me when I was 10. I catch a hold of it to feel the roughness at the back, seeing that inscribed on

it, it says “a boat goes against the current, but the river won't change its

flow of direction”, and this struck so hard as if Nona knew I would approach

such a situation. I thought about it, how I really am a river and there are

bound to be visitors and boats and if they go the alternate way. I would not

follow as being a river meant being more powerful, within that contentment of

deep thought, I doze off.

I’m awoken by the halt of the train, my eyes flutter to see my reflection

of myself on broken glass with my head scarf tied in a severe way. The radio

previously playing Total Eclipse of the heart by Bony Taylor had a come to a

mute. From what I comprehend the train is sideways and appears to have crashed.

I’m taken aback by the bodies surrounding me which happen to be stained with

blood, wallets, keys, credit cards and scattered shoes lay on the floor. An

aching noise catches my responsiveness. There is a girl who is desperately

crying holding her right wrist with a deep incision. I open my fanny pack, grab

my handkerchief and ointment I had carried for the wound I previously had on my

foot. I wrap it around her delicate rather small arm, but the white color of

the cloth becomes less prominent and overflows with red. She continues to

profusely bleed. Her mother seems to have regained consciousness as she looks at me and pleads me not to hurt her daughter, at this point I cannot fathom how

she could possibly misunderstand my intentions. Her eyes close and she goes back to having a befuddled look. 

Applying to practice what I had gathered from the first aid training I

had received last year, I apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding and looka around for cloth, however nothing could substitute for a cloth either. I wipe

my sweaty forehead with my chiffon hijab and there I had a lightbulb moment. I

used the same “threatening” knife to quickly cut the longest edge of my hijab

and swaddled it around her wrist giving it a good tight knot. The blood stops

flowing out vigorously. I get up and run to help another old man puffs out and

coughs excessively indicating he has asthma. Before I can reach him

the ambulance sirens are heard and there is a sense of relief that’s felt

amongst everyone. The mother of the child I helped gathers her children and

carries them out with the help of a nurse, she even looks back and gives me a dirty snarl. 

I walk to the nearest petrol station shop with a wholesome feeling, knowing I did good, no matter what the situation if I can maintain my inner peace and help people even if it goes unacknowledged it is okay as long as I know and the universe has its way of reassuring karma. The same people who stereotype, happen to remain silent and don’t extend help, despite having the ability to do so. I will continue helping others and growing, regardless of their perception and inability to recognize the weight of my actions. Although, still having the slightest hope that the world overall can overcome its blindness.