• Home
• /
• Opinion

I Wish he Comes Back Again...

I make a stern face and tell him in an even sterner voice “Junaid it is only 3pm and Zaara is just back from school. Come back at 5 after she is done with her afternoon nap and homework.”

Okay, he says and promises to come in the evening.

Five minutes later, the door bell 
rings again.

Today, I wish he would come and ring the bell again after every five minutes. I will let him in each time and allow him to enjoy every minute of time that childhood has given all of us to take pleasure in, I promise myself.

But he can’t come any time 
soon now.

The tiny lad, who has been ringing my doorbell incessantly for ages; whom I saw blossom from a baby to a shy little boy has been diagnosed with a disease that sounds alarm bells even before we understand its meaning completely — brain tumour ...and doctors say that Junaid’s prognosis is grim.

Junaid is my neighbour’s son and he was born a few months after my baby girl in 2004. Both kids have been playing, eating and squabbling together for the past five years nearly every day. They even attend the same school, and Junaid is as much a part of my household as my daughter Zaara is of theirs.

I can recall the face of the extremely shy boy who used to stare at me through his mop of unruly hair when all children got a scolding for creating a ruckus and disturbing the peace of all other people on our seventh floor.

Sweet natured and well mannered, Junaid has been as active as any boy of his age, never showing any signs of the deadly growth eating his insides away. The last time I saw him, his friends were teasing him about his new gelled and spiked hairstyle — a banter that he took in his stride.

But since the news of his illness has reached me, day in and out I have been agonising whether his frail frame will be able to bear the heavy load of the dreaded painful surgery and treatment he is yet to undergo.

Will he make it through the complex procedures? I have wondered several times when my children ask me as to when their friend would be back.

Luckily for them, pessimism does not affect childhood easily and they are quite optimistic of his return.

I smile in hope and promise myself again that when Junaid comes back safe and sound, I won’t ever turn him away from my door.

I promise I won’t ever impose adult made rules and laws on any blossoming childhood, a healthy and a pain free youth that all children deserve to enjoy.

I make endless promises to myself but just wish the doorbell would 
ring again…

Asma Ali Zain is Khaleej Times senior 
reporter. She can be reached at

asmaalizain@khaleejtimes.com