Daughters are among the greatest blessings from Almighty Allah—so precious that He granted His most beloved among mankind, the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), four daughters. When a daughter enters a man’s life, a profound transformation begins within him. A whole new world welcomes him. Suddenly, a man once rough and stone-hearted becomes as soft as silk and as gentle as melting snow. His heart which was once rigid starts to beat with new emotions. Now the busiest man finds time to smile, to play and to protect. To a father his daughter is not just a girl but his heart wrapped in innocence and strength.
He begins to see his own daughter in every little girl. He hears her giggle echoing in the laughter of every child. The mere sight of tiny teeth reminds him of her first bites. Every step she takes makes his heart throb with pride and every sigh she lets out causes his heartbeat to race with concern and affection. Her laughter becomes his favorite song and her tears become his deepest pain.
All this was revealed to me in the most terrifying way.
I am a proud father of a beautiful daughter who will turn five in the soon. Two years ago, an incident occurred that still sends shivers down my spine. She had accidentally pushed a nose pin deep into her right nostril—so deep that no part of it was visible from the outside. Initial check ups revealed that her forceful inhalation was pushing it further deeper. A little negligence could prove disastrous.
I came to know about it late in the night at around 1 a.m. The moment I heard, an overwhelming sense of restlessness took over me. I immediately tried contacting doctors but due to the late hour none were available. That night felt like an eternity. I spent it wide-eyed and sleepless, counting stars and battling dreadful thoughts.
Horrible possibilities haunted my soul whole night:
What if the pin blocked her nasal passage?
What if a sudden sneeze caused internal injury?
Wasn’t it painful to have a foreign object lodged so deep inside?
The night was filled with a storm of what-ifs, whys, and hows. Each thought more disturbing and horrible than the last. I even started contemplating an emergency surgery as soon as dawn broke. To speak honestly, it felt as though the pin was stuck not in her nose but in mine, such was the intensity of the pain I felt on her behalf.
That morning, I did not eat. I did not feel. I was merely breathing. The morning passed without me truly living in it. Sometimes I think of my age as a day less than it actually is because I did not live that morning, rather, the morning lived upon me.
Yet with the first light of dawn, I stepped out, holding my daughter close, and rushed her to the hospital. After a painful two hour wait, we were finally called in by a surgeon at the esteemed GMC Anantnag. He was a true professional. With a single, precise stroke of a spoon-shaped device he dislodged and removed the object.
When the surgeon inserted the device to dislodge the pin my daughter cried and I felt that pain ripple through my soul. As she closed her eyes my heart fluttered with agony. After few minutes of intense and heartbreaking pause she smiled and I breathed again as though I had just come back to life.
I don’t even remember the words I used to thank the handsome savior of my daughter and myself. He was no less than an angel to me that day.
It was then that I truly understood the profound meaning of the Hadith which says ,”Fatima is part of me. Whatever harms her harms me, and whatever is against her is against me.”( al-Tirmidhi)
Back to the topic, a father, through all his toil and silent endurance, raises his daughter with unwavering devotion. He pours into her the strength of his own youth, gives more than he can afford, and surrounds her with every comfort he can manage which is often at the cost of his own ease. And then, one day, she is married off. Now, imagine the weight in his chest if he sees her suffer in her new home—if she is hurt, ignored, or mistreated by those entrusted with her happiness.What must that do to a father’s soul? I leave the rest to the hearts of those who feel.
The writer is a teacher by profession and can be reached at darbadhir1234321@gmail.com