Today as i sat down to write this I don't know what exactly is it that i wanna say?  Have you ever felt like screaming with grief while holding your tears, not because you want to, but because you are scared of exposing this vulnerability that you were not aware of.  This is exactly what Zahra thought when she was sitting in the hospital waiting to be seen by an audiologist for her son, not contemplating or thinking what is there that awaits her.  Casually she flickered through the magazine lying on the side table and caressing her 2 and half year old whose speech only she could comprehend fully while others could make out only few words, then came the moment, they both had seen the doctor and now were to be given the verdict to what was wrong.  The audiologist diagnosed the child with minute to moderate hearing loss, the left ear being more severe then the right.  The world, if we can imagine, for a mother came to a halt.  Zahra felt like screaming her heart out.  The mere fact that her son can't hear without a hearing device and has no cure because he was born with it was shattering.  Holding her sanity and tears back she listened to what the audiologist had to say to her.  All she could hear was her own heart beat and some mumble jumbles—nothing was making sense to her as if you are caught in a moment and desperately trying to revive your senses regardless of her efforts to try to remain attentive she couldn't.  Finally she was shown the door to the reception hallway to wait for the doctor's to advice on what they shall do next.  Sitting in the hallway all Zahra felt lost.  As if all the hope in the world was just swept away like a wave and will never return.  Having faith, no faith all those years of belief that Allah is kind and merciful.  (We all believe in something) and the very belief that nothing on earth can go wrong.  As if we are a born privileged and have a right to all.  The sheer belief also came from the fact that Zahra had her special needs brother who was born with a rare genetic disorder:  phinileketonuria—where a child is born fine but if not treated it leads to liver damage and then severe brain damage.  All those years of her parents suffering and sharing their special grief she thought she will never be subjected to any of these issues, but here it was right in front of her the whole scenario.  She felt rebellious, disgusted and a resentful against her faith, her self and all.  She was still trying to figure out of how, why?  Why me?  That the door to the audiology department wide open and a mother with her son on a wheelchair walked in.  Her son was quite similar to Zahra's brother.  She stared at them both and saw another mother going through something Zahra had seen all her life her mom go through............ That moment Zahra shall never forget because somehow she realized that her sorrow, though not small, was not as gigantic as her moms.  That powerless soul gave her the strength that she is being silly and has no right to be resenting because the equation of her grief and her mother's or this mother sitting next to her wasn't balanced at all.  Sometimes we experience something and yield a strong sense of power from the most powerless souls.  For all those great mothers who have faced pain and have found strength in their sorrow.