Following interview of Tasneemben Dawoodbhai, Toronto, by Mudar Patherya

 Our daughter was born handicapped.

She could not use her leg muscles, she could not use her mouth muscles. The result is that she could not walk at all and when she was a month old, she had a food pipe implanted through her throat to her stomach and another from her neck to her windpipe to prevent her from choking if she accidentally swallowed her saliva. One month old!

When she came home for the first time as a baby on 11 March 2004, I saw her choke on her saliva and turn blue. We rushed her to the emergency room.

When she was four months, a surgery was conducted to tighten the esophagus around her stomach so that the food would not come up. Before she went in, I placed a small photograph of Aqa Maula on her as a talisman and prayed that ‘aap mari dikri ne salaamat raakhjo aney laavjo’.

Six hours later, the doctor emerged to say that Sakina had responded favourably to the surgery even as there were occasions when she stopped breathing, as if almost dead. The surgery was about to be aborted when ‘something’ pushed Sakina; the doctor immediately felt he should go for the traditional surgical route (as opposed to the laproscopic). It worked.

‘Worked’ is relative. She was functional, she was breathing, she was living. But Sakina was completely crib-ridden, could not walk and need to be assisted in food intake. When you see a lifetime ahead for a sweet little bundle – your own - your heart sinks.

We turned to our only hope. We sent Sakina’s medical reports to Aqa Maula for shifa; he responded with ‘dua chhey’. In July 2008, my husband went to London for Huzurala’s dua; he raised Sakina’s picture while Huzurala was walking; Huzurala turned and touched her picture. Just touched. No more.

 But curiously, her routine problems gradually subsided, giving me the confidence to actually take her for her first direct sighting. Big.
 
Sakina flew for the first time on 28th July 2008. It was difficult: she had to be fed through a machine with a breathing pipe; I carried all necessary equipment; I had to take all her special food (nutritional milk) and request the airline for physical and seating allowances.

 When I got to Manchester, I took her immediately for qadambosi. Dr Moiz bhaisaheb explained Sakina’s medical history to Aqa Maula; Maula heard patiently. He then looked up and exhaled on Sakina. The next thing I knew was that a sedentary child had started walking independently – no support. In fact, even this description is factually incorrect; Sakina was running all over the sehen, with me running scared after her for strictly protective reasons. Within a minute!


Maula also gave her a taweez for wearing (not to be merely pinned to her dress or hand, he clarified) and shifaa nu paani.

 Maula was returning from Manchester the following day and so was I. I wondered…. how nice if we could be on the same train. The next morning when I went to the station an official came and asked if I needed help. I said yes and she made arrangements to put me on the same train as Aqa Maula. Since I had a fair amount of luggage there, was little chance that I would be able to navigate my way to him. But cuiously – I am using the word again - throughout the journey, I kept receiving unexpected turns of help from strangers, each one conspiring in assisting me in my ‘true journey’.

 
The result was – and I still don’t know how – at one point at the start of the journey, Maulana was just two feet from us. I gaped. I stuttered, ‘Maula, maari dikri ne shifa aapjo’. He smiled. He walked on. He knew.

 The result is Sakina has to live with two tubes going into her. She is smaller than other babies, a result of having spent the first seven months of her life in a hospital. But she is living. She is relatively normal. 

 It took one man’s breath to ensure that she would continue to have it.

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