Tahira Mursleen
Stories (2/0)
Choti Chirya
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply as I waited for my chai (tea in Urdu) to warm up in the microwave. Over the noise of the microwave, the sound of rain drops falling outside had a calming effect. I closed my eyes for a moment but was brought back by the sharp beep of the microwave. I grabbed my chai and my little black book and walked to the living room to sit on the green leather chair near the window. I put the chai down, grabbed my pen and started to flip through. Names, lots of names which would not mean anything for anyone else reading through the pages except me. The names belonged to all the patients I have ever treated. I flipped the pages until I found the end of the list and wrote the latest entry, Nadeem Saeed. All these patients were special to me, but Nadeem especially meant a lot more. I leaned back again and closed my eyes while listening to the storm outside, drifting into my thoughts diving into the memories that the name I just wrote ignited.
By Tahira Mursleen3 years ago in Families