In the Shade of Sidrat

Suddenly, Adam was thrown a few meters by a strong explosion. After a couple of minutes, he opened his eyes, stood up, and quickly ran out into the yard to find Markha. His thoughts were: “Markha! You’re alive! You’re okay! I know! You just went out for water…”.

He ran around the small yard several times. His consciousness clouded, but, grabbing his head, he ran around the yard calling her.

– Please! Answer me! Where are you? Don’t leave me! We’ll still make it to the camp… We’ll make it… Where are you?! – he repeated in panic, slowing down his pace and looking around. But Markha didn’t answer, there was only silence.

Then he slowly turned into the backyard and saw a large pit in the ground, and there… were Markha ‘s remains… fragments of her body… Adam didn’t know what to do, it seemed fate had already tested him: he had buried his parents, friends, neighbours, but he wasn’t ready for such a blow of fate… Then he slowly sankdown to the ground and cried.

– This is a terrible dream! I’ll wake up soon, and it will all be over! You’ll return to me, and we’ll continue our long journey together. What should I do? I’m so tired… Tell me what to do… You just went out into the yard… you’ll come back, – Adam repeated, gasping for breath from tears.

His heart was breaking with pain. He wished this bloody earth open up and swallow him just not to feel the burning pain in his soul, to have everything turn out unreal, another cruel joke of war. But he had to endure this loss too. Then he suddenly jumped up like a madman and began searching for something.

– I won’t leave you here, do you hear me? You’ll come with me to your children, they’re waiting for you and love you very much! – Adam went on repeating that wiping away his hot tears,

Finding an old bag in the yard, he gathered the remains, wrapped the bag and gently hugged it. It seemed to him that he had gone crazy, that the whole thing hadn’t been occurring to him and he had got to hell on earth instead. But, unfortunately, all the inhabitants of the Republic were captured in this hell. The sky and the earth trembled from human cruelty day and night.

Adam understood that he needed to reach the humanitarian corridor for refugees, bury the remains, and find the kids. Gathering all his willpower, Adam quickly set his feet on the path all alone, without Markha. He no longer cared whether he would make it alive or dead.

After a couple of hours, he didn’t even notice that he had reached the border between Chechnya and Ingushetia. Noticing a large stream of refugees, with many people and cars, he stopped next to a car with a family inside. Suddenly, he thought he saw Markha sitting in the car. He approached the partially open window and said to the woman inside: “Markha, I told you we would make it! We reached the border!”.

Having uttered this, Adam fainted. When he came round, he found himself sitting in that car, next to the woman he had spoken to. She had a snow-soaked bandage on his forehead.

– Boy, what’s your name? What happened to you? Why are you alone? Where are your parents? – the woman asked, worriedly.

– I’m Adam… They’re gone… They’re all gone… I’m alone… with Markha, – Adam replied calmly.

– Where is she? With you? We didn’t see her here, – the woman replied.

– She’s nearby. Here… in the bag… I need to bury her… and take her children from the camp with me. I promised, – he stuttered, holding the bag close to him.

– What are you talking about? Poor boy, he’s completely lost his mind. Have a short rest, you’ll come with us. We’re also going to the refugee camp. We’ll find the children, – the woman replied, tearfully.

– Leave him alone! Why are you bothering him? Can’t you see he’s in pain? There are really human remains in the bag. When I put him in the car unconscious, I saw what was inside the bag… He’s telling the truth. We’ve all lost our minds because of this damn war, – the elderly man sitting behind the wheel cried out.

– And you, hold on! In any difficult situation, we are not alone. Our Creator is always with us! He sees and hears everything, even what we don’t say. He knows our souls better than we do. He loves us more than our own mother. Everything will be okay! This is coming from a man who buried his three brothers, parents, and two little children. My little son was also named Adam. He was blown up by a landmine right in front of me, – he added, barely holding back tears.

Adam knew what it was like to lose the loved ones. He covered his face with his hands, and the harsh events of the recent months passed before his eyes like a movie. Raising his head, he said:

– I’ve experienced so much pain that I don’t know why my heart is still beating so treacherously.

– It’s not up to us to decide, son. It will beat until its time is up. We, men, must bear the blows of fate stoically, for the future of our nation is behind us, and we are responsible for our children so that they grow up to be real people! – replied the man.

– Kazbek, look, all the cars have started moving, and we will finally go, – said the woman happily, holding her sleeping eight and ten-year-old children close to her. Her name was Amina.

– Praise be to the Almighty! We will get out of this, – Kazbek sighed in response.

It was already getting dark when they set off. There were a lot of people. After a while, they crossed the border between Chechnya and Ingushetia. Passing through another village, Kazbek stopped the car at the side of the road and said:

– There’s a cemetery over there, we need to bury the woman’s remains. Amina, you stay in the car.

– Okay, – she replied.

Kazbek got out of the car, opened the trunk, took a small bottle of water, a piece of white and green fabric, and a wooden board. Adam followed him, holding his bag tightly in his hands. Then they quickly headed towards the cemetery.

After a while, they returned to the car and sat in silence for a few minutes.

– When all this chaos is over, we will bury her in the family cemetery, don’t worry, Adam. The most important thing is that her soul will find peace after the burial, – Kazbek said in a tired voice.

Adam just nodded and fell asleep in the car. They kept going until they reached the house of Kazbek’s old friend, Islam, who was Ingush, and Kazbek knew he wouldn’t refuse them a place to stay. And indeed, Islam not only let them stay, but also forbade Kazbek from seeking other accommodation, saying that he wouldn’t let them go anywhere.

– Kazbek! How could you think that I would let you go, my brother? Amina! Quickly set the table, our brothers have come to visit! – he shouted to his wife.

After dinner, everyone was very tired and went to bed early. The next morning, Kazbek, Islam, and Adam set off to the refugee camp to search for everyone who was with Adam in the basement. When they arrived at the camp, they began asking people in the tents where they could find certain individuals, calling out their names and surnames.

Then, looking into another tent, Adam saw Magomed sitting sadly by the window, with Makka sleeping next to him on a wooden cot. He slowly walked inside and sat down next to him. Magomed, sensing someone nearby, turned around and, recognizing him, exclaimed:

– I knew you would come! I knew you would take us out of here! I have been waiting for you! I have been praying every day to the Almighty to bring you back!

He gave Adam an affectionate embrace and burst into tears, that ran down his rosy white cheeks.

– Magomed, everything is fine, I promised, and I am here! Now I will never leave you and Makka! – he said, hugging him reassuringly.

– And Mom? Where is Mom?! She came with you too, didn’t she? – Magomed asked through tears.

– Everything is alright with mom. She’s in the best of worlds, – Adam replied calmly.

Magomed cried even harder. He understood everything without words.

– Where is Sonya? Vera? Where is everyone? – Adam asked, looking around.

– They all left together with some man to another city. Sonya wanted to take us with her, she cried. I told her I would stay here and wait for you, – Magomed cried again.

– Okay, enough already, you’re a man after all! – Adam said, ruffling Magomed’s hair.

– Here’s a piece of paper with an address. Sonya asked me to give it to mom, – Magomed said.

– Okay, who are you living with here? – Adam asked.

– With Aunt Medina, she was with us in the car when we came here, – he replied.

– Let’s wait for Aunt Medina and go home, – Adam smiled.

– Back to our home? They’re shooting there, I don’t want to go there, – Magomed said, lowering his head.

– No, not there, to another house, here in Ingushetia, to Uncle Islam’s, we’ll stay with him until everything is sorted out, – Adam replied.

After a while, Medina came, Adam thanked her for taking care of the kids like her own, said goodbye, took Makka in his arms, and they left the refugee camp. Magomed did not leave Adam’s side, Amina, Kazbek’s wife, fell in love with little Makka and called her “my sweet kiddie”.

That evening, Adam ate hot food for the first time, drank hot tea, the aroma of fresh bread intoxicated his head. All these months, he had been dreaming of the simplest things: drinking clean water, eating delicious food to his fill in warmth and silence, taking a hot bath, and lying down to sleep on clean sheets in a soft bed, not thinking about airplanes, explosions, and death.

Isn’t this happiness? Yes, happiness lies in the simplest and most familiar things for us. We don’t appreciate their value until we lose everything. In fact, the simplest things bring the greatest happiness.

When he finally fell asleep, he had a dream. In the shade of the beautiful tree Sidrat al-Muntaha, there were his parents, with Akhmed and Markha beside them, all dressed in beautiful green silk garments and turbans, sitting among beautiful lotus flowers. Fragrant musk emanated from them, and their faces were shining with beautiful white light. There was no sun, no cold, no fear, and no sadness. Adam felt complete peace and tranquility.

Markha held a crystal pitcher in her hands, shimmering with various colors. Then she approached the nearby spring, filled the pitcher with water, and handed it to Adam’s parents. After drinking water from the heavenly source, Adam’s father said to him, “Everything has its time, son! Your golden leaf has not yet fallen from the tree. Take care of your children, we will always be with you, in your heart”.

After the war ended, Adam returned to his homeland, his beloved and native Grozny. He couldn’t even imagine his life outside the city, Grozny was sealed in his heart for life. Almost twenty years had passed, the city had become even more beautiful and magnificent, there was no single trace of war left.

Makka and Magomed grew up, went to university, Adam started a large family, every day thanking the Almighty for the Republic’s peace and prosperity. His heart preserves everything that happened and cherishes everything he has. Happiness is so fragile!

Every person has an inner magical power that can make them survive pain, overcome fear, and continue to fight even with themselves.

Every person has an internal magical power that can make them survive pain, overcome fear, and continue to fight even with themselves.

⠀

⠀

Maryam Nashkhoeva

The Scent of Happiness

Mommy, don’t cry. I have two weeks left to live – two whole weeks, fourteen days, three hundred and thirty-six hours, twenty thousand one hundred and sixty minutes. That’s so much time – time for sunshine, for warm and rainy days, for long, sleepless nights. It feels like an eternity for someone who knows the day their life will end.

You will read this letter when I am no longer by your side. But I will always remain in your heart, burning with the warm flame of your love. Always.

We’ve only just begun, and yet, you’re already crying. Is that really necessary? Smile, like we used to do on warm evenings, sitting together on the swings in our cozy yard. Take a cup of tea – yes, the one with the hearts on it. Pour our fancied blend with mint and lemon balm, take one sip, just like we always did. Then sit in your favourite rocking chair by the fireplace in the living room. You see, you’re already smiling. That means everything will be okay. A smile, after all, is a little glimmer of hope from a heart that’s desperate, but still strong.

I haven’t told you this yet, but the doctor said there’s no going back. My ship is about to set sail on its last voyage.

Mommy, don’t think I’m afraid. I’m not. I’m brave, after all. I’m not afraid of death itself. I’m afraid of leaving you, of breaking your heart. Parents aren’t meant to bury their children – it goes against the laws of nature.

But you know, Mommy, it’s almost easier for me now, after hearing the doctor’s words. You may wonder why. Well, because after these gruelling six months, I’m so exhausted – especially my soul. My body’s grown used to the constant presence of needles and tubes. At thirty, I feel like I’m eighty. Everything inside me feels rusted, worn out. Chemotherapy hasn’t just ravaged my body; it’s burned away my emotions too. It’s as if I’ve already lived my entire life before this moment. Everything feels distant, like an old movie reel – memories, smells, faces, emotions – all in the past. I’ve had my fill of it all.

The sun has become dim and cold, the days are short, the nights endless, and people indifferent. I’m left alone with my illness now – my closest companion, since my “real” friends turned away when I needed them most. My boyfriend left me when he found out about my diagnosis. I can’t offer him beauty anymore, or comfort by my side, or money. I’m bald now, no longer the person who caught his eye. I’m ashamed to go out with him, ashamed of how I look. I scare him, and I scare everyone around him. He has nothing left to brag about.

He once loved me – or at least I thought he did – but it was all an illusion, a false faсade hiding emptiness inside. I was just a big wallet to him, a useful thing, and he was a consumer. My shelf life has expired, and now I’m disposable. I’ve always attracted men like him – Alphonse – but I never found real happiness.

Maybe I was too strong, and that’s why I attracted people weaker than myself. But I have no regrets. In my brief, bright life, I’ve experienced it all: the good, thanks to you, and the bad, thanks to me. You always said there are no perfect people, and I am far from perfect. But you were always my ideal – my magical, guiding star. And stars never fade, so neither will we. Our souls will shine like eternal celestial stars.

I just want to confess to you my endless love! To capture it in these lines!

Please don’t cry, Mommy. I asked you not to. Read this to the end, smile once more, and kiss me on the cheek in your mind – just like you did when I was a child. Hug me tightly with your tender hands – oh, how they smell, Mommy! That scent is heavenly, the most beautiful in the world! They smell like my favourite lily of the valley.

Mommy, I want to share with you some little secrets of happiness. I’m sure that deep down, everyone knows them, but sometimes something holds us back from living by them. It’s hard to stop for just a moment, open your heart wide, and let yourself be happy. But don’t worry, it’s nothing serious – just a few words from a bald girl who loves life madly, and at the same time, hates it.

I decided to write you this letter because I wanted to leave something truly real behind, something that comes from the depths of my heart. Perhaps someday, these words will help someone searching for the secrets of true happiness. But don’t take it all too seriously – just read it and remember me.

I used to make things complicated. I wanted everything at once and believed happiness lay in material possessions, a high social status, a big country house, an expensive car, influential friends. But, Mom, when you’re lying in a hospital bed, all of that feels so unnecessary. These are just stereotypes imposed on us by society. I hate stereotypes – they destroy the real person, the natural inner core. In truth, the formula for life is simple: you just have to allow yourself to be happy without conditions or expectations. Four words: happiness lies in simplicity.

As banal as it may sound, it’s true. You don’t need to look for happiness in luxury, money, expensive villas, or cars. It’s always nearby. It lives in a simple cotton shirt and worn-out jeans someone dear gave you. It’s in the pot of my favourite orchids and the fresh lilacs… and the lilies of the valley you bring me every morning. Happiness is in your smile, your hugs, the hot tea you’re drinking right now, the rocking chair you’re sitting in, the warmth of your hands… and in your embrace, Mommy.

You know, I’ve always been afraid of change – of places, of homes, of people, of the opinions of others, of criticism. But it wasn’t worth it. Yes, it was a waste of time and nerves! What I should have been afraid of was the gray monotony and, at times, my own desires. The first is deadly; the second, fulfilling.

Do you remember when I wanted to shave my head, and you talked me out of it for a whole month? You even promised to kick me out of the house if I did it. Do you remember? Well, my dream came true… somewhat too late.

Do you remember how, as a child, I was afraid of the dark? And you always held my hand when I was scared. I never considered myself brave or strong, but it turns out, I am strong, Mommy. Every person has an inner strength, a magical power that helps them endure pain, overcome fear, and keep fighting – even against themselves.

If I were weak, I wouldn’t have been able to cope with everything I’ve been through. But I’ve always known what I wanted. And now, I would give anything for a little time to do what I love. There would be no more “what if” in my life, because I’ve come to understand that “what if” doesn’t matter. It may never happen. What is to happen, will happen. I believe in fate; it always takes what it’s up to, no matter how much we resist or try to run from it. And now, it has come the turn of the most precious thing to become one of its belongings – my life.

Mommy, I wake up at dawn now, greeting each morning with open arms. I go to bed late, trying to savour every second of life. Before I sleep, I count the stars, like we used to do when I was little. During the day, I listen to the birds singing outside the window, the quiet rustling of leaves, the thunder rolling in the distance. It’s like a spring orchestra – a beautiful symphony of nature. I breathe in the fresh scent of the wind and catch the wet drops of rain in my palm. Spring is a wonderful time. It ignites the sparks of change and always brings something fresh and joyful.

You know, Mommy, I believe it’s so important for each person to have three flames burning inside them: love, hope, and kindness. With these, the Universe will be saved. Don’t think of me as a bore, I know you never heard me speak like this before. I was always the iron lady, focused on my career, but fate had other plans for me, and now, I’m someone different. As strange as it may sound, it’s thanks to this deadly illness that I’ve learned to see the world in a new light. During the breaks between chemotherapy sessions and unconsciousness, I came to realize something important: a person’s true value lies in their humanity and kindness.

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Примечания

1

“See then the impact of Allah’s mercy: how He gives life to the earth after its death! Surely That ˹same God˺ can raise the dead. For He is Most Capable of everything” (Quran, 30:50) / https://quran.com/ru/30

2

Sidrat al-Muntaha – the lotus of the utmost limit. This is the name of the tree that grows on the seventh heaven and is located near the Throne of Allah (Arsh). It received this name because it is to this tree that everything rising from the earth reaches, and everything descending from Allah arrives. There is a supposition that it is named so because it is above the earth and the seven heavens, and at it ends the knowledge of the creations. There are other opinions regarding this matter. Sidrat al-Muntaha is mentioned in the Quranic verse: “And he certainly saw that ˹angel descend˺ a second time at the Lote Tree of the most extreme limit ˹in the seventh heaven˺ – near which is the Garden of ˹Eternal˺ Residence – while the Lote Tree was overwhelmed with ˹heavenly˺ splendours! The ˹Prophet’s˺ sight never wandered, nor did it overreach. He certainly saw some of his Lord’s greatest signs” (Quran, 53:13—18), (“Islamic Encyclopedic Dictionary” – A. Alizadeh, Ansar, 2007). “Sidrat al-Muntaha is a huge paradise tree, so beautiful that its beauty cannot be described. It is entirely covered with butterflies made of gold” (Ali Demirli. Islam. Its terms, symbols, and attributes, 2017).

3

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “The superiority of the month of Sha’ban over the other months is like my superiority over the other prophets”. All good deeds performed in this month are increased up to 700 times and ascend to the heavens without any obstacles. As the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “The name of the month of Sha’ban comes from the word ‘tasha’aba,’ which means ‘to spread’ – in this month, goodness spreads” (http://serdce-chechni.ru).

4

It is reported that while describing this tree, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “This tree is such that if a rider on horseback were to ride in its shade, he would not cross its shade even after seventy years of travel. One leaf of this tree is capable of covering the entire community” (https://islam-today.ru/veroucenie/vopros-otvet/cto-takoe-sidratul-muntaha/).

5

“So, surely with hardship comes ease” (Quran, 94:5).