Not the End, But a Pause A journey of love, healing, and unwavering togetherness.

It all began with Meuza, a tiny creature with a mighty presence, who made the first pawprint on our hearts. And the youngest to join was Chocolate, full of mischief and innocence. Between the first and the last were over 150 little souls; each with a story, each with a spark, each sent by Allah into our lives.

This journey was never planned. It wasn’t a hobby. It wasn’t an act of charity. It was love in its rawest, most divine form. What started as a single soul entering our home turned into a sanctuary, a rhythm of healing, not just for them, but for us.

This is not a farewell. This is a pause - one that aches, one that tests, but also one that reminds us that nothing escapes the wisdom of Allah. Our time together may have halted for now, but what we built will never die. It lives in every breath we take, in every silent moment that now echoes with memories.

Over six unforgettable years, our home became more than four walls. It became a haven of second chances. A place where the broken came to heal. A place where life was given, not taken.

They didn’t come to us by coincidence, they were chosen for us. Injured, abandoned, left to survive in cruel streets, they arrived not because we searched for them, but because Allah sent them to us. We were not their saviours - we were only the vessels of His mercy. He fed them through our hands. He healed them through our hearts. He gave them safety through our shelter.

They came as animals, but became our teachers.

They taught us what no human could, how to love without conditions, how to trust after trauma, how to rest in stillness, and how to live without expectations. Their eyes held pain, but also hope. Their meows were not demands, but conversations. And their silence was never empty, it was full of presence.

We never had rules or boundaries between us. No ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ zones.

We were together. Whether it was the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the soft glow of the bedroom, the chaos of toys in the hall, or the quiet in the balcony, they were with us. Not as observers, but as family.

I was their mother, not by species, but by bond. They never scratched me, never rebelled. I was their comfort, their safest space. My children were not just children, they were siblings to over 150 little hearts. They helped feed, medicate, clean, and yes, grieve. They cried with us when we buried those who left. But they also smiled with us every morning when we woke up to new meows and stretched paws.

My husband was their strength.

The way they lit up when he returned from work — it was a celebration we never took for granted. Their love for him was loud, joyful, and pure. When he travelled, Huraira and the kittens guarded his side of the bed. They waited, knowing he would return. That loyalty cannot be explained only felt.

Yes, we lived in a rented house. And yes, we heard the criticism. Neighbours who couldn’t stand the sound. Relatives who frowned at the smell. Friends who distanced themselves. But we didn’t argue. We didn’t retaliate. We endured with sabr, because we knew: this was not everyone’s calling. It was ours. Allah had entrusted these souls to us. We had to protect them even if it meant losing people.

Even when our finances were tight, we never compromised on their food, their litter, or their vet care. Never once did a single cat go hungry. Never once did we let them feel neglected. Because we never fed them, Allah did. Every grain, every drop, every heartbeat was provided by Him. We were not caretakers. We were only chosen to carry His mercy.

And now, we are not with them.

Our circumstances changed. Life pulled us into a different season. We had to move away — not by choice, but by responsibility. Fourteen of our dear pawkids are still being lovingly cared for by kind-hearted friends. But we are no longer there with them. The silence is no longer peaceful, it is piercing.

The absence is not just of sound; it is of presence.

No tails brushing against our legs.

No tiny paws pattering behind us.

No purrs vibrating against our chest during late-night sobs.

Their absence is a weight we carry not with complaint, but with prayer.

My daughter — their world. They understood her voice, they followed her around, they knew her moods. We weren’t caretakers. We weren’t just humans. We were a family of souls, bound by something beyond word

My son — their playmate, their friend, their sibling. He was chased, wrestled, cuddled, and loved.

There is no perfect way to explain how life feels now.

Only that it’s quiet.

And emptier.

And that some parts of our hearts still sit curled in those rooms we left behind, where meows once echoed, and love purred in every corner.

But even in this silence, we believe:

This is not the end.

Just a pause.

A pause Allah wrote — for a reason only He knows.

Dua from the Heart

Ya Allah,

You are the Turner of Hearts. The Sustainer of every living being.

You gave us this honour of being trusted by so many voiceless, soft, innocent creations. It was never our greatness. It was always Your mercy.

Ya Rabb,

Let those who once lived with us feel no abandonment in their hearts.

Let them know it wasn’t our decision, but Your divine plan.

Let them feel safe, content, and protected in their new shelter.

Let them sleep in peace, surrounded by kindness and care.

Ya Allah,

Please reunite us, if not in this life, then in the gardens of the next. Let us find them waiting at the gates of Jannah, running to us, purring, brushing against us, reminding us that love never dies. It only waits to return.

Grant our hearts sabr, and our souls shukr.

Let this separation not become a regret, but a testimony of faith.

Bless our friends who now hold our amanah with rizq, health and barakah. Reward them for every litter cleaned, every bowl filled, every scratch healed.

Let every memory, every glance, every meow, every stretch of a paw remain alive in our hearts as a reminder of what true love looks like. And when it gets too hard, Ya Allah, remind us: this is only a pause, not the end.

Ameen 🤲

Kitni Wasi Thi Hamari Duniya

Rangeen o haseen thi hamari duniya,

Dilkash wa dilnasheen thi hamari duniya

Falak, chaand, sitaare the sab hamare,

Kis qadar wasi thi hamari duniya.

Ghar chhota tha, magar jazbaat bepanah,

Jahan har purr mein tha sukoon ka nigaah.

Na koi zubaan chahiye thi, na alfaaz,

Sirf meow aur nazar ka tha ek raaz.

Sab pe waari thi hamne duniya,

Dard se pyari thi hamari duniya.

Meuza se shuru hua safar ka raag,

Aur Chocolate tak har pal raha lajawab.

Phir aaye Po aur Huraira — duaon ke saath,

Unki aankhon mein tha sukoon ka paighaam.

Poli — our Polar Bear — maaon ki misaal,

Khud bimar, phir bhi sab ke liye bemisaal.

Sweety thi khushi, ek chanchal ghata,

Smokey — wafadar, khamosh sa dard bhara.

Huda, woh mohabat jo chup reh kar bhi roshan thi,

Saath the Fida, Ada, aur Luna — noorani si jannat thi.

Alyar aur Bamsi — do bhai, do dil ke tukde,

Alyar ka faisla, Bamsi ka pyaar — dono dil ke saudagar.

Noorain aur Boran — bhaijaan aur behna — ek shararat, ek saath.

Noori, Sheru, aur Chocolate — maa aur bachpan ka jod,

Moon, Alaja, Karayal — ek parivaar, ek noorani dor.

Turgut, motu sa hansmukh, har pal ka entertainer,

Deriya, buzurg si rooh, lekin pyaar ka oceans of honor.

Aswad aur Saani — khud bhule, auron ke bane panaah,

Unmein tha wo sabr jo sirf khaas logon ka nishaan.

Rumi — ek raaz, ek rehnuma, sabka saathi,

Telvin — sukoon ka saya, yaadon ka haqdaar sathi.

Baadal, Banu, Motu Tui, Oreon — Rumi ke bacche jaise,

Sab pe usne kiya pyaar ka barasna jaise.

Kumo aur Yuki — barf jaise narm, khushbu jaise meethas,

Mufasa aur Simba — sher ke jigar wale, rooh ke rajaas.

Changu aur Mangu — hansne wale, shararti, par masoom,

Cocoa aur Butter — mohabat ke two spoons.

Safa, Marwa — do noorani rang, duaon ke saaye mein pale,

Ilaichi, Siri, Jaggu — rangon se bhare palon ke mele.

Emerald — har nazar mein jhilmilati roshni,

Jibreel, Burraq — farishton ke naqsh, roohani roshni.

Osman — haibat bhari shaan,

Wudood — naam ke saath pyaar ka bepanah ehsaan.

Ikiz — do roohon ka ek jism, ek jazba,

Sparky — har pal mein roshni, ek jeeta jagta afsana.

The Mighty Muscular — husn aur taqat ka sangam,

Warrior Sanjar — jise dekhkar lage khuda ka karam.

Arsalan, Falak, Ambar, Adaa —

Rooh ke taajdaar, mohabbat ke wafadaar.

Lala — har din mein khilta ek phool,

Tiger — nafrat nahi, bas jazbaat ka dhoop-chhaon ka cool.

Curly — uljhi zulfein, par ek seedha dil,

Kiki, Zuzu, Saffire, Coral — roshni ke chhote chhote silsile mil.

Surma — aankhon ka kajal, rooh ka raaz,

Shera — dikhne mein shant, lekin dil ka mizaaj.

Fifi, Charkutai, Bannu, Fruity, Custard —

Jaise meetha sa raag, har lamha ek pyaara sa farsad.

Ghazi — jis mein tha jazba, ek lion heart,

Tutu — chhoti si jaan, lekin rooh se very smart.

Kitne chehre, kitne naam,

Phir bhi har ek yaad hai ek paighaam.

Yeh sab the Allah ki bheji hui rehmat,

Jinse roshan hui hamari zindagi ki kismet.

Ya Allah, in sab ko apni hifazat mein rakh,

Unhein mehfooz, pyaar bhari jagah de, jahan dard na ho aur sirf sukoon ho.

Hamari duniya chhoti ho gayi hai,

Lekin yaadon ka asmaan ab bhi utna hi wasi hai.

Rangeen o haseen thi hamari duniya,

Dilkash wa dilnasheen thi hamari duniya

Falak, chaand, sitaare the sab hamare,

Kis qadar wasi thi hamari duniya.

Sab pe waari thi hamne duniya...

🐾✨💕💞🫶🤲