Heaven for Riana
Author: ฯ๐ด๊ชแฅด๊ซ๊ซ๐ฆ
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'โthe 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 brainโalways searching for rational answersโcouldn'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.
"Iโm 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 weโll be seeing each other often."
"Are you an outpatient here?"
"You could say Iโm a resident of this hospital. Iโve had a heart defect since birth. Since I was a child, Iโve been back and forth here. I know this hospital like my second home."
"A heart defect??" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah, thatโs how it is. The doctor said I wouldn't live long, but Godโs miracle has given me life until now, at twenty years old."
I laughed cynically. My laughter sounded dry against the garden breeze.
"Twenty years? Godโs miracle? You know, thatโs 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 smiledโthe 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 futureโan 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.
"Itโs 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. Itโs 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.
"๐๐ฆ๐บ ๐๐ญ๐ช, ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ข ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ต?" ๐๐ช๐ข๐ฏ๐ข ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ด๐ข๐ช๐ฅ.
"๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ตโ๐ด ๐ข ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ, ๐๐ช๐ข๐ฏ๐ข."
"๐๐ช๐ด๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต. ๐๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ต: ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฆ๐ด ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ณ ๐ฐ๐ณ๐จ๐ข๐ฏ๐ด? ๐๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐บ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ฆ. ๐๐ง ๐ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต, ๐โ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ต ๐ต๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ."
๐๐ญ๐ช ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ข๐ถ๐จ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฅ, ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ญ๐ต ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต. ๐๐ช๐ข๐ฏ๐ขโ๐ด ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ต๐ณ๐ช๐จ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ญ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ข๐จ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ต.
"๐๐ฌ๐ข๐บ, ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ต'๐ด ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ช๐ต."
๐๐ญ๐ช ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐๐ช๐ข๐ฏ๐ข ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ ๐ฅ๐ข๐บ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บ ๐ด๐ช๐จ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ณ๐จ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ด ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ค๐ฉ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณโ๐ด ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ข๐ด ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ค๐ช๐ฑ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ด.
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.