You’re luckier than you think

Here it is yet again. The silver-white doe, standing in front of me. I leanforward and slowly reach out in an attempt to touch it. But as always, it steps back, turns around and dashes away.Leaves.Twigs.Branches.They slap my face back and forth but I pay no heed to them as I crash through the forest, following the doe.

I don’t know why I want to catch it. Maybe because I have never seen anything as beautiful as it before.Maybe because it so strongly resembles Severus Snape’s patronus. Yes, I think it is the latter. I have just finished rereading the Harry Potter series for the umpteenth time, and after doing so, am so completely clueless as to what to do with my boring life that I’m desperately searching for signs of Harry’s world everywhere I go.This is the second time in three days that I’ve seen the doe.

Nevertheless I keep my feet going, stumbling between the trees, determined to catch it. I seem to be getting closer. Yes, I can hear it. It’s saying something. My name. I feel a sudden burst of energy surging through my body. I run faster and faster until I’m a mere foot away from it. I reach forward and am about to touch it when I realize that it is an animal. And animals can’t speak my name…

“Anna? Anna!”

I sit up and feel the walls spin around me. Where am I? I look around and see my mother examining my school bag. And then it hits me. It was all a dream. The doe wasn’t real. It was just an attempt by my brain to keep me connected to the Harry Potter world. I sigh and glance at the alarm clock, nearly stopping my heartbeats in the process. It’s already three quarters past seven. I’m supposed to catch the bus as eight.

“I hate school!” I cry.

I hurry into the bathroom, squirt toothpaste on my toothbrush and step inside the shower. As hot water gushes down, my toothpaste flows down the drain and I hop around, trying to turn the faucet and cool the water. My attempts are futile and I jump out, feeling frustrated. I quickly pull on my uniform and in my rush, don’t see the pool of water near the shower as I step forward to hang my towel. Well, you can guess what happens next –

“Ouch!” I yelp as my mother hurries in and gently picks me up from the bathroom floor.

I groan as she hands me a piece of toast and my school bag. I sling my bag across my shoulder, careful to keep its weight off my hip (which was quite sore after my fall) and head out the door, realizing that I haven’t had the chance to brush my teeth. The stench of my bad breath along with the horrible taste of my unwashed mouth causes me to lose my appetite and throw the toast into my neighbors’ yard, where their dog gobbles it up. I watch it for a few seconds before running the few meters to my bust stop. I reach it and stand there, rubbing my sore hip and feeling sorry for myself.

“Hey!” I cry.

I don’t believe it. The bus has left without me. I can see its lemon yellow back disappearing ahead of me. I feel like screaming my lungs out. Can my day get any worse?

My question is answered when I run back home and request my dad to drop me at school with his car.

“What do you mean it has a flat tire!?” I yell as my dad informs me the car is with the mechanics.

I take my rarely used bicycle out of our garage and ride it to school. As expected, I’m twenty minutes late and when I am made to stand in front of the class aspunishment, I can hear my stomach rumbling. When I am allowed to return to my seat ten minutes later, humiliation, hatred and hunger cause tears to fall down my face. I can feel a hand on my shoulder, patting me gently.

“Thanks, Tanya,” I say and turn my head to face my best friend.

Butthe hand on my shoulder doesn’t belong to her, but to my science lab partner, Kim.

“Where’s Tanya?” I ask her. “Being my bestie, she should be right here next to me, consoling and comforting me.”

Kim shakes her head and gestures to the back of the classroom. I spot Tanya chatting animatedly with a girl with long brown hair and sparkling blue eyes –Shimmer, seventh grade’s most popular girl. Tanya glances at me, hesitates for a second, gives me an apologetic look and then turns her chair around so that her back is facing me.

Of course. I should’ve seen this coming. My best friend has chosen popularity over me. How fake.

I guess Kim notices the pain in my eyes, because she sits with me for the rest of the day.

“Umm, Anna,” she says after hugging me while the bell rings behind us.

“Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that…you should brush your teeth more often.”

That’s done it. She’s probably having second thoughts about befriending me right this very moment. It’s common knowledge that if you have bad breath, you’re automatically a social outcast at school. Kim gives a half-hearted smile and walks away. I mutter angrily under my breath as I hop onto my bicycle. I start pedaling forward when Tanya’s car speeds past me. Swerving to avoid it, I apply the brakes, only to find myself crashing to the ground. Dazed, I stand up, massaging my injured hip and I find that some prankster has cut through the chain on my bicycle, leaving me with a two-wheeler that can’t apply brakes.

“Argh!” I scream with exasperation.

I kick the cycle and clutch my foot with pain as they bang into each other. A sudden flash of lightening nearly blinds me as I grab my cycle and slowly make my way home, through a sudden burst of rain. When I reach, I’m soaked to the skin and my bag is drenched. I empty my bag of its contents and set everything to dry. As I’m heading upstairs, I spot my little brother standing on the top step of the staircase, grinning mischievously.

“What is it?” I growl.

I’m not in the mood for his irritating mischief. He points at my room and flees before I have a chance to get hold of him. Books on the floor. Stuffed animals piled behind the door. Clothes everywhere. My room is a mess.

“Why do you do this to me?!” I scream at my brother as my dad walks in and tells me off for not keeping my room clean.

Grumbling, I slowly clean the place up before settling down in front of the television to watch the latest episode of Austin and Allie. But the TV screen remains blank and my mom informs me that due to the heavy rain, the connection is lost. Great! Something else to add to my long list of sufferings. I just hope there’s something yummy for dinner. I cross my fingers and chant prayers as I walk into the dining room. I survey the table. Chapatti and green vegetables. I can deal with the chapattis; in fact I love them. But I hate veggies. I can feel the annoyance and anger (which I had kept subdued for the last six hours) brewing inside me. And…I lose it. I start shouting at everybody in the room. I am fed a few quick bites of food and sent to my room. I glance at the clock. It’s eight thirty. Bewildered, I look at my dad who raises an eyebrow and points at my bed.

That’s it. Today has officially been the worst day of my life. I fell in the morning, nearly broke my hip in the process, missed my bus, was late to school, was punished in front of the whole class, got ditched by my best friend, was abandoned (a consequence of my toothpaste flowing down the drain) by the only other person who liked me, had to walk home because my bicycle had been sabotaged, got drenched in the rain, was expected to clean up a mess which was created by my brother, missed my evening television shows, was forced to eat green vegetables, and now am expected to sleep at eight thirty in the evening. To top it all, I’ve already been suffering from lack of Harry Potter for the last couple of days.

“I’m the unluckiest person in the world,” I mutter softly, before drifting off to sleep.

The last thing I remember is praying that I fall ill so that I don’t have to go to school tomorrow.

I am woken up by a strange man. Strange in the sense, very unfamiliar. But wait. He’s not unfamiliar. I have seen him before, although not in person. But in huge pictures hung up on walls. I have read about him. He is not unfamiliar at all. He is my closest friend. He is –

“God,” I whisper.

He smiles at me.

“You called for me?” he says.

I frown and respond, “well, no. At least, I don’t remember doing so.”

“Think. You were praying before sleeping, yes?”

“Yes, but- ”

“Then you have indeed called me. So, you had a bad day?”

“Yes. The worst of my life.”

“I see.”

“Why did you make my day so bad?” I blurt, tears spilling from my eyes as my mouth forms the words. “Why am I so unlucky? Every bad thing in the world happens to me!But why me? I’m the unluckiest person in the world!”

He sighs and shakes his head, considering me for a moment before saying, “come.”

He extends his hand and I hesitate for a second before accepting it.

“Where?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond. He surveys me for a minute before deciding on something. He snaps his fingers. I feel cold wind lashing at my face and shut my eyes. When I open them I am forced to let out a shout.

“Where’s my bedroom?” I holler.

Again, he doesn’t respond. I discover that we’re standing on an arid patch of land and my clothes have changed to suit the weather. The air is hot and dry. I can’t see a soul. Moments later, a man appears, whistling a merry tune. He’s carrying a ball and has a rifle in his pocket. He wears a green and light brown uniform – the Indian army. I hear a bark behind me and turn to find a dog bounding forward.  He licks the man’s faces and runs around him in circles. The man laughs and throws the ball, yelling ‘fetch’.

“Where are the other people?” I inquire.

“He’s the only person in this area,” God replies.

“But he must be so lonely!” I cry.

“He’s got the dog for company.”

“Doesn’t he have any friends?”

“The dog’s no Kim or Valerie,” God says, looking at me carefully. “But he’s a fine little fellow. At least, I never hear the man complain.”

I sigh deeply. What was God doing?

“Okay, I know I’m fussy and picky. I know what you’re trying to teach me. I’ve gotta count my blessings and be grateful. I understand. Can we please go back now?” I say.

God thinks for a second, and shakes his head, saying, “no. It needs to sink into you. I do not appreciate people who say things just to please or get away from the problem.”

He extends his hand and says ‘come’ before snapping his fingers again. This time when I open my eyes, I discover we are in a hospital. Doctors and nurses fly past us, hurrying from room to room. Patients with all kinds of diseases and injuries can be seen inside them. Families in varying states of distress sit huddled in the corridors.

“Great,” I say. “Are we going to take care of my hip first or my foot?”

God looks at me for a minute before the tiniest of smiles creeps onto his face and he asks me to sit. The smell of medicine and ointment fill my nostrils and I start coughing. No one seems to notice.

“How come nobody’s paying any attention to me?” I ask.

“We’re invisible to them,” God replies. “They can’t hear us either.”

“Well, how’re they supposed to fix me if they can’t see or hear us?”

“Wait and watch.”

We seem to sit there for hours. I watch as the sun sets behind the window. I am just about to ask him if he plans to stay here for the night when he points at the room in front of us. An old man walks in and God motions for me to follow. I peer inside and immediately cover my eyes, trying to erase what I just saw.

A young girl about fifteen years old lies on the cot. One of her legs is in bandages and the other has been amputated. Her head is bald and there are several third degree burns on her hands and neck. A tiny part of her nose is missing and her eyes are red. But when she sees the old man enter, her face breaks into a smile. The two converse brightly for an hour before a nurse comes in and informs them that the visiting hours are over.

“Bye grandpa!” the girl calls as the old man waves and leaves the room.

The nurse looks at her sadly.

“Natasha, why don’t you just tell the poor fellow how much pain you’re in?” she says.

“Pain? What pain?” Natasha says.

Even as she speaks, her leg twitches and she winces.

“I’m sure he’ll find some way to pay for better treatment. I can’t watch you suffer this way,” the nurse says.

“He doesn’t need to spend whatever teensy bit of money he has left on silly things like painkillers for me. I’m alive and that’s all that matters. I don’t feel any pain.”

“What about your parents?” the nurse persists. “Can’t they help?”

“First of all, I’m fine. Second, I’ve already told you. My parents don’t stay with me. They’re somewhere else.”

“I can reach out to them! Where are they?”

“Somewhere…safe.”

God gives a sad smile.

“She’s right about that,” he whispers.

“Where are they?” I ask.

“With me.”

I am almost about to cry but I stay strong and watch Natasha with wonder as the nurse tries and fails at persuading Natasha to ask her grandfather for money. I have never seen anybody with such determination. Surely, if I would have been in her place, I’d have immediately begged my granddad for money to ease my suffering? I sigh with discomfort as the nurse leaves the room.

“Anna, please don’t yell at your family anymore,” God says.

I turn crimson and give a small nod.

“So, do we take care of your hip first or your leg?” he says.

I restrain from rolling my eyes and shake my head hurriedly.

“Come,” he says and snaps his fingers.

I open my eyes and look around. We are standing over a river, surrounded by mountains on all sides. The ground and mountains are covered with snow and most of the river is frozen. A couple of pink flowers bloom here and there. There is a village on the other side of the river and a couple of small, house-like structures behind us. An icy wind is blowing around us. I realize I’m wrapped in a jacket and am wearing snow pants and boots. I think I know where we are. We’re in –

“Nepal,” whispers God.

I nod and continue looking around. I point at faint figures on the other side of the river. God clenches his jaw and motions for me to watch. The little figures belong to children. I see them approaching the edge of the river and gasp as they start crossing a tiny wooden bridge that I hadn’t noticed before. To say it is broken would be the understatement of the year. More than half of the wooden planks have fallen off, so the bridge merely looks like two ropes connecting each side of the river. Moss and fungi grow on the planks which haven’t fallen off and the bridge sways dangerously with every gust of wind. I watch the children grab the rope and slowly pull themselves onto the wood nearest to their side of the river. Carefully, they jump from one broken plank to the other, clutching onto the rope as if their life depended on it – which in fact, it did. I cover my eyes with my hand and don’t dare to look as the tiniest girl amongst them starts crossing the river, a scared but confident look in her eyes.

“Why are they doing this?” I scream.

“To go to school,” replies God. “The building behind us is their school. They are determined to get an education and to do so, have to cross this treacherous bridge.”

I stare at him.

“Do they really want to go to school so bad?”

“Yes, they do,” he glances at me. “Even if they have a fever.”

I squirm uncomfortably and shut my eyes. He snaps his fingers. We’re in an oven. I scream trying to find my way out.

“Stop it! Stop it!” he says.

I look around. We’re not in an oven. We’re in a really hot desert. Warm wind blows around us, sweeping the sand up. I spot some teepees in front of us, with a dozen families inside them. I catch the word ‘Sahara’ here and there in the midst of their conversation and realize I’m standing in the world’s largest desert. I look down and see that I’m wearing a simple shirt and shorts.

“These people have been trapped inside their homes because of sudden severe sandstorms,” God explains. “They haven’t had a chance to go out and hunt for food. They haven’t had any water. They’ve been stuck inside for days on end.”

As he speaks a strong gust of wind blows sand all over the place and God shields me. Sand flies all around and the people hurry into their teepees. When the storm subsides God leads me into the nearest teepee where I find four little children rolling on the floor, clutching their stomachs. The three adults pat them wearily, muttering words of comfort.

Hunger. I knew how it felt. I had suffered from it just yesterday. But that was only for a couple of hours. These kids have been starving for days. I can feel my heart turning in circles. I feel really sorry for them.

“Can’t we help them?” I ask.

“We’re invisible, remember? And they can’t hear us either,” God replies. “If only they had a bit of food. I’m sure they wouldn’t deny a few green vegetables.”

I nod again. My conscience is really catching up on me.

“Where next?” I ask politely.

God surveys me for a few minutes before shaking his head.

“No, I think that’s enough,” he replies. “You’ve learnt something, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” I blurt, surprised. “Of course. You showed me so much. I’ve obviously learnt a lot.”

“Yes,” he says and smiles. “I’m pleased. Let’s get you back home.”

He snaps his fingers and I find myself back inside my room. It’s still night and I can hear the floorboards creak as my brother walks downstairs for his usual glass of water. I’m back in my night gown. Exhausted, I climb into bed. As I lay my head on my pillow, I see something glinting on my desk. I stand up and pick up a piece of paper. It’s a note from God. It has five words written on it:

You’re luckier than you think.

__END__