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farheena naseem



farheena naseem


Life is Beautiful

Life is Beautiful

5 mins

It was terribly cold that morning. Everybody knows the kind of weather extremities you can see in Delhi. I was a little low and upset and was in no mood to go to college because of cough and cold. I, probably had a mild fever as well, thanks to the virus…; but it was Friday, the last working day for the week, and I had to complete my lab work or my Professor would have killed me for late submission, so I had no second thoughts about skipping the classes.

I left home at about 7 in the morning, as usual, to catch my regular bus. Since we were living in the Cantonment, it took me almost two hours to reach the University and hence I used to be the only idiot amongst my group of friends to leave so early to attend the first lecture that started at 9.

I remember I walked down the bus stop, a 10 min. walk, almost deserted with the exception of only a few enthusiastic oldies, who had a great flair for morning walk, cursing almost everything around, I somehow dragged myself and my big bag, to the bus stop. The bus had yet not come. There were some 10-12 people standing there, waiting for their respective buses. Everybody was elaborately overdressed with sweaters, jackets, some with shawls and caps, gloves and whatnot. There was little fog and it must have been the coldest morning that I remember.

Though it was extremely cold and pretty early yet the road was very much alive with buses, auto-rikshaws, scooters and bikes running all around. Small children going to school, uncles, and aunties ready for their offices, some college students like me…So I felt a little consoled but I was still feeling weak and sleepy. I was trying to pacify myself by planning to take rest over the weekend rather than doing the cleaning and compiling work.

The bus had not come yet though it was 7:14, I took a glance at the other end of the road and suddenly I saw something that would never ever fade away from my memory. There was this small girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old. She was almost naked except that one of her entire leg and arm had plaster on it and she was wearing a tattered nicker. She could not walk because of her poor condition and was crawling on the road to cross it.

Gradually the traffic on the road had increased and the fog had become thicker. I don’t think anyone had noticed her otherwise someone must have helped her. I myself was so taken aback by the sight that instead of helping her I just kept watching her. She must be in great pain but she was still crawling keeping a tight eye on both sides to check all the vehicles crossing her. My bus didn’t arrive though it was 7:20 now.

I kept looking at the brave girl. She had crossed almost half the road and was lying flat for a while. Then within a few seconds, she again looked up, observed on both sides, there was no bus or taxi, just a few two-wheelers. The plaster on her leg had turned brown because of dirt and mud and the bandage in the neck to hold the plastered hand was not visible. She was keeping the plastered hand on her leg and with its support trying to push the leg forward while the other hand and leg were being used to crawl. I don’t think she had ever taken a bath during the past few months. Her hair was as dirty as one can think of and her locks were falling all over her face. She was not shivering with cold but seemed quite nervous.

I noticed that she had almost crossed the road and had to cover a few feet more to reach the tree close to the bus stop. She could not walk or stand but I realised that she had wonderful eyesight. She was perfectly keeping an eye on all the vehicles, moving and stopping very carefully, throughout this tough, long, painful journey (it was no less than a journey). She further moved forward and now I could easily see her smiling, giggling rather. She moved towards the tree where I noticed, an old jute bag was lying. She picked it up quickly, tried to remove the dust from it, definitely not with ease, using her free hand and then covered herself with it.

She seemed to be the happiest person around. Now she was laughing aloud, her joy can simply be not expressed in words. She was pulling the bag to cover her arms and legs. The satisfaction and warmth on her face was more than what you would probably get by wearing the best of jackets or coats. My eyes were flooded with tears. I still was feeling weak but was no longer feeling low. I felt for a while as if there is no pain, no agony, and no difficulty in the world. For a moment I even forgot that I had to attend college and my bus had not shown up till now. I forgot almost everything, I just kept looking at her; she seemed so beautiful, innocent, charming but definitely not fragile. She is the bravest person I can recall. This cute, little girl was so happy as if she had the entire world on her lap. I could not see any anger, anguish or complaint in her bright eyes, all that I could see was life….

Now I started thinking of myself, just a mild cold had bothered me so much that I had nothing but complaints, I was depressed and displeased. I checked my watch, it was 7:38 and if I had to attend the first lecture I had to take an auto rickshaw. I quickly took one and asked the driver to be a little fast. For the next 50 minutes, I could think of nothing but this little angel.

I felt guilty for a while, for not helping her anyway but I think I was too incapable to help a soul as strong as hers. She has been my real hero for all these years. She taught me a lesson for my entire life that there’s nothing in the world that can make you happy unless you decide to be happy. She made me realise all that I’ve been blessed with….

Thank you, dear angel, for all the strength you gave me that day and forever… 

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