for once..

there was this boy..
one of a kind..
never uttered a harsh word to his mother..
never has he done something that might worry his mother..
whatever that he wants or plans to do,
he'll think of his mother first..
"will she approve?"
"will she be disappointed in me if I do so?"

his late teacher had reminded him once before on his death bed,
to always put his mother in first, after Allah and Rasulullah..
since then, he is always kind to his mother..
and his mother was fair to him too..

years passed..
eventhough he was away, furthering his studies,
he never failed to call his mother every day to check on her..
but suddenly, things changed..
when he got back for holidays,
his mother was rather cold with him..
everything that he did seemed wrong in his mother's eyes..
his mother even refused to talk to him for no reasons sometimes..

and that just crushed him..
he was so kind to his mother..
obeyed everything she said,
treated her like the queen of his heart as she deserved to..
but he was treated that way..
for reasons that he couldn't think of..

one fine day, he wanted to help out his mother in the kitchen..
he asked "what would you like me to do?"
his mother kept quiet, as if she didn't hear him..
seeing vegetables on the kitchen table, still in plastic bags,
he took them out, and started to clean them, like he would always do..
his mother turned around from the sink and said.,
"I'm still capable of doing things around here! I can do it myself!"
she snatched the carrots in his hands..

frustrated and hurt, he gushed out of the kitchen..
packed his bags, and went back to college, as the holidays were about to end anyway..
when he got there, he met his childhood friend and let his heart out..
he told everything.. and just before he left, he said..
"I've never been mad to my mother.. please.. just let me be mad at her.. FOR ONCE!"

months passed..
for the first time in his life, he kept silent from his mother for this long..
one day, sitting in a masjid, the imam on duty was giving a talk
which reminded him of his teacher's last words,
and also the numerous hadiths that mentioned about being good to our parents,
especially our mothers..
he realized that he was wrong..
eventhough his mother did what she did, but still, she is his MOTHER..

right after "Isha' prayers, he grabbed his phone and called his mother..
nobody answered..
he thought, maybe his mother was still at the masjid..
the next morning, he tried again, but his neighbour answered..
     him : Salaam.. Is my mother there?
     neighbour : Salaam.. Nobody informed you? Your mother passed away a month ago..

his heart sank..
flashbacks came along..
all the happy days, till the last time that he saw his mother..
the last time that he didn't expect to be regretting for the rest of his life..

why was his mother in a bad mood?
she was in excruciating pain.. she had bone cancer..
every time she moved her limb, it would hurt..
she hated being disabled.. she didn't want to rely on anyone..
she was a woman of all trades..
she could do everything.. but the disease took it all away..
even her son, and finally her life..

you see..
you'd never know, when would it be the last time you see someone..
as for this guy, a whole lifetime of being good to his mother,
was unable to erase the guilt that he had for the event that happened
on the last time he saw his mother..

writing it down in a story is easier said than done, you say?
I know.. but it's a reminder for you and I..
that everything will end one day..
one day you see this person, the next day, you might not..
it's either them who passed away, or you..
appreciate life, and people around you..
for when the time is up, there's no turning back..