Heaven for Riana

God??

I never believed in the presence of God. Prayer, to me, was nothing more than a whimper from those who were desperate and unwilling to strive.

I only believed in what could be processed by logic. I refused to worship a God or obey religions crafted by human.

I called myself an atheist...

At least, that was what I believed before I found the Divine Light.

*****

The scent of carbolic acid and the aroma of antiseptics still clung to my senses, and it seemed I would be inhaling them often in the future.

I sat on a hospital garden bench, waving the lab results in front of my face. No matter how many times I read it, the result wouldn't change: 'Chronic Kidney Disease'—the name of the illness currently ravaging me.

A "gift" from my uncontrolled lifestyle in the past. Parties and alcohol had been my daily routine.

The doctor said I probably had only one year left. How ironic; I, who always said "no one knows when they'll die, enjoy it while you're alive," was now given an ultimatum.

I crumpled the paper into an irregular shape. It was a perfect reflection of my current state: a mess. Medical logic had passed its verdict, and for the first time in my life, my brain—always searching for rational answers—couldn't find a way out.

"One year... enough for a few more parties, I suppose. Or maybe enough to watch my organs fail one by one," I muttered to myself.

"One year is a very long time if you fill it with gratitude, but it feels like a mere blink if you only count it down."

The voice was soft, yet it shattered my reverie like a stone cast into still water.

A tall, thin man stood beside my bench. His skin was pale and clean, his black hair slightly disheveled.

"I’m sorry, did I startle you?" the mysterious man asked.

"Who are you?" I asked flatly. Honestly, I wasn't in the mood for small talk.

"My name is Ali, a regular visitor of this hospital. May I sit?"

He sat down beside me without waiting for my permission. "And you?"

"Riana," I answered sourly.

"Nice to meet you, Riana. It seems we’ll be seeing each other often."

"Are you an outpatient here?"

"You could say I’m a resident of this hospital. I’ve had a heart defect since birth. Since I was a child, I’ve been back and forth here. I know this hospital like my second home."

"A heart defect??" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, that’s how it is. The doctor said I wouldn't live long, but God’s miracle has given me life until now, at twenty years old."

I laughed cynically. My laughter sounded dry against the garden breeze.

"Twenty years? God’s miracle? You know, that’s just a statistical fluke. Science calls it a medical anomaly, not some invisible hand reaching down from the sky."

Ali wasn't offended. Instead, he smiled—the kind of smile from someone who knew something I didn't.

"Statistics is human language to explain how God works, Riana. To me, every heartbeat I have right now is a loan that hasn't been collected yet."

"A loan?" I turned to him, staring at his pale face which contrasted with the vibrant spark in his eyes.

"Then why did your 'God' give you a broken loan? If He truly exists and is All-Powerful, shouldn't you have been born with a perfect heart? Why is He so stingy with your health, yet lets someone like me waste mine in nightclubs?"

Ali took a long breath, appearing slightly heavy, yet he remained calm.

"Perhaps because He wants me to learn to appreciate every breath, while He wants you to learn the meaning of returning home. God isn't being stingy; He is telling a story through us."

"I don't believe in fairy tales, Ali. I only believe in what I can see and process with my mind. And my mind tells me this world is just a giant machine that doesn't care about us. We are born, we break, and then we die and turn to dust. That's it."

"Then why does your heart feel so heavy?" Ali asked softly, yet piercingly. "If you are certain that death is the absolute end, why did you crush those lab results until they were ruined? If there is no meaning behind this life, you shouldn't feel disappointed, should you?"

I was stunned. His words hit me right in the gut. My logic had no answer for an attack that simple.

"I am an atheist, Ali," I said in a lower tone, as if trying to convince myself. "I don't want to worship a religion created by humans to scare one another."

"I am not asking you to worship a religion," Ali rose slowly, gripping the back of the bench with hands that trembled slightly.

"I am only inviting you to see the Creator. Think about it, Riana... if a painting needs a painter, is it possible for a human as complex as this to exist without a Designer?"

Ali began to walk away, his steps slow and cautious. I watched his receding back. The man who had the most right to curse fate had just given me a riddle that shattered the logic I had held for so long.

*****

As Ali said, we began to meet often at the hospital. We always sat on the same garden bench, talking about whatever crossed our minds. For a moment, we wanted to forget the fate that trapped us. Sometimes, we talked about the future—an uncertain one.

"Riana, do you know that Ramadan starts tomorrow? This year, I want to try fasting like everyone else."

"Ramadan? In all my life, I've never even fasted." I snorted, trying to mask the ache in my chest with my usual sarcasm.

"Besides, aren't you a regular on IV drips? Withholding food and water is crazy for someone whose heart often forgets how to beat properly, Ali. Doesn't your God give exemptions for sick people like you? And hey, how many times have I told you to call me big sis?"

Ali laughed softly, a sound that was a bit strained but very sincere.

"Of course there are exemptions, SIS. God is All-Just. But there is a longing that is hard to explain... a longing to prostrate in hunger, to feel that I truly have nothing before Him."

He deliberately emphasized the word sis to tease me. I rolled my eyes, though deep down, I felt pricked by his words.

"It’s still not logical. You need nutrition; you need medicine on time. Your God would surely rather have you alive than have you die foolishly for a ritual."

"Perhaps," he replied calmly, watching the birds perching on the tree branches.

"But for someone like me, fasting isn't just about enduring hunger. It’s about proving that my soul is not governed by this broken body. That there is something in here..." he pointed to his chest, "that remains strong even as the flesh weakens."

I fell silent. All this time, I felt my body was a prison. Because of this kidney failure, I felt betrayed by my own physics. But Ali? He saw his illness as a way to liberate his soul.

"You're stubborn," I muttered, my voice softer now. "What if your Ramadan becomes the cause of the end of your life?"

Ali turned to me, his gentle eyes looking at me without a shadow of doubt.

"If my future in this world is indeed over, I only hope to return home carrying love, not a grudge. And you, SIS Riana, what would you want if tomorrow were your last day?"

That question pierced me. I, the atheist who believed nothing followed the stopping of breath, suddenly felt a chill.

"I want... at least to have been useful to someone," I answered quietly, almost inaudibly. "Not just to be party trash that ends up in a hole in the ground."

Ali smiled so sweetly, as if he had just heard the answer he was waiting for.

"You are a good person, Riana. It's just that you haven't been introduced to the One who created goodness itself."

That afternoon was the last time we sat peacefully in that garden. That night, I decided to go back to my apartment with a chaotic mind. I sat in my apartment chair with a weak body and tilted my head back.

"If You are truly there," I whispered to the quiet ceiling, "at least let this part of me be proof that Your existence can save someone like Ali."

I didn't know that a few hours later, fate would fetch me in the middle of the city's roar through a loud crash that ended my logic, yet began a journey of faith I had never imagined.

***

Today is the first day of the Holy Month of Ramadan. I tried to follow what Ali said about fasting. Today, for the first time in my life, I am fasting.

In the morning, I drove my car toward my workplace. At a crossroad, I stopped at a red light. I saw a truck speeding toward me. I thought it would turn, but it kept hurtling in my direction as if its brakes had failed. I tried to steer my car away, but there was no time.

The truck slammed into my car with violent force. The next thing I saw was a light so dazzling, yet it felt so warm and peaceful.

'Am I going to meet God now?'

I called out the name of the God that had never been uttered before, "Ya Allah," and then I closed my eyes.

***

Ali stood before a tombstone engraved with the name of a woman he had only known for a few months. Their meeting was brief, yet deeply meaningful, and he would remember it for the rest of his life.

Ali remembered the day Riana said something beyond logic, making him take a bet for the first time in his life.

"𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘈𝘭𝘪, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵?" 𝘙𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.

"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯, 𝘙𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢."

"𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵: 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘴? 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

𝘈𝘭𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘙𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵.

"𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵."

𝘈𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

Ali touched his chest. Behind those ribs, something was beating strongly. A throb that was once foreign, but had now become the melody that sustained his life. That heart belonged to Riana.

The heart of a woman who once claimed to have no God, yet finally returned home with His name on the tip of her tongue.

"You won the bet, sis," Ali whispered softly, his voice raspy as it was carried by the cemetery wind.