MY ANGEL IN SAVING GRACE

As a child I was never a one to be shown affection. I became what I am all on my own. People may think I am snobbish and stone-hearted or even Hitler reincarnated but it does not bother me. After almost a decade of studying and practising Law, I became one of India’s top most lawyers, but at the age of 31 you tend to be alone. I would miss my mother’s home cooked food even if she hated me.

I was returning home one night when I happened to pass an orphanage. Just then it started to drizzle and within few seconds it was a heavy downpour. I saw a young woman around 19 or 20 years of age, sobbing bitterly after she left a small bundle on the topmost stair of the entrance to the orphanage. Later she ran as if fire was hot on her trails.  Curiosity got the better of me and I stopped the car and went towards the small bundle. The scene that came across my eyes at that moment was one that I knew would change my life.

A few seconds later a nun came out and saw me soaked to the bone carrying a small bundle in my arms. She told me to come in and gave me some clothes to change as I was fully drenched. She started talking and asked me what happened. I told her the story of the lady and she sighed. What she said ignited a small spark in me. ”Ah! another child”. There is no place for a new child. I will have to ask Father Astor what to do with the child”.  I made a spur of the moment decision and asked if I could adopt that little bundle.  She said to come in the morning and fill in all the paperwork.  I made my way to the car and made a pit stop to the nearest baby store.  I bought all things necessary for my little bundle with the help of the store manager.  I went home and set up the spare room for my little bundle. 

I went to bed wondering whether I had made a right decision and how this would affect my life.  In the morning, I called up my office and pitched in a sick leave.  Next morning I reached the orphanage around 9 AM.  Nearby, I could hear a baby screaming its lungs out.  I entered the orphanage and saw some nuns surrounded around a baby.  I saw a nun holding my little bundle.  I ran towards her and swept the little bundle in my arms.  The little bundle stopped crying and stared at me with her little brown eyes and twinkling little button nose.  I cooed at her.  The nun from yesterday came and told me she had completed the paper work but needed my details and my little bundle’s new name.  I gave her all my details, which she promptly wrote down and asked for the name.  She gasped and had a tear in her eyes after hearing her name.  “She is my angel in saving Grace”, so her name is “Grace Angela Pereira”.  From that very moment I knew that my life would change forever. 

My 31 years of life would have never prepared me for the sleepless nights and restless days at work.  People at work were surprised, to say the least, that I was smiling. My attitude towards life had changed and I started seeing life from a different perspective. My angel had become the talk of the town.

Her first day of school was very heart wrenching to say the least.  To pick her up from school was something I eagerly awaited.  My bachelor colleagues were laughing at my demeanour.  Around 5 PM, I ran like I had coyote hot on my trail.  Upon reaching my angel’s school, I parked my car and searched for her until I heard a loud ‘Daddy’ followed by a pair of running legs.  I swept her in my arms and showered her with kisses and heard her cute blabbering about her day.  I laughed, for in my 34 years I had not heard such a beautiful thing.  But then again it’s just me being biased.  Then I heard a sweet honey like voice saying that I have a beautiful girl.  I turned and saw the second most beautiful lady in the world.  She introduced herself as Olivia Smith.  From that instant I knew she was to be my soul-mate.  From school recitals to first dates and marrying Via made me a complete man. 

Time flew by and like this it came the day that Joel; my angel’s boyfriend asked her hand in marriage from me and Via.  Via was ecstatic, she cried and with open arms welcomed him in our family.  I left the room and sat on my chair.  Joel was a nice lad and would without a doubt keep my angel safe and happy.  He was an upcoming and a good lawyer but so was my angel.  She took after her father.  I went out and told Joel “just don’t hurt her” and welcomed him to the family.

So at the end of everything it comes down to this day.  Doesn't it?

Walking her down the aisle I saw her transformed from a cute chubby girl to young ambitious beautiful woman.  Each step I took with her reminded me of every moment that we had spent together. Her walk from becoming Miss Periera to Mrs. Walker, her no more being my little angel was heart breaking.  During the father-daughter dance, what she whispered was something very touching but heart breaking and she was whisked away by her husband.  I went to Via and hugged her, unable to control the tears that rolled down my cheeks.  She asked me what my angel had said, I whispered in her ears and she smiled silently.

“I may no more be with you, but in your heart I am still your little angel you brought from that orphanage. You, Adrian Joshua Pereira are my angel in saving Grace and you are my daddy.  I will always love you forever”.

- A short story by Ayesha Salim Khan

            

A heart-rending story

The Rhythm of Death

They rushed him to the hospital but they refused to take him to surgery before receiving the advance fees. Their way of explaining their cold inhumane behaviour was 'hospital policy'.The person writhing on the stretcher seemed to lose the energy to fight. He looked pleadingly into his sons eyes and the son looked pleadingly at the hospital staff. They turned their backs on them and attended to other patients who had the money they needed.

The son set out. He didn't know where to go at that hour to get some money, so his first thought was to go back home to get whatever he had and borrow the rest from his neighbor. He ran towards his home, as running was a better option than getting his car out at this time amidst this traffic.

His mind filled with images and words of his father. From his earliest memories, his father was the only one who was there for him. His father never showed him how hard he worked for the things his son got so easily. His mother passed away during childbirth and since then they only had each other. His father, a worker at a factory, wanted his son to be everything he couldn't be himself. He wanted his son to achieve many things and never have to face the hardships he faced. His son however, had different ambitions than what his father had for him. He was pretty talented at singing and playing the guitar, and he wanted to turn that into a career. He wanted to reveal this to his father only when he was sure his father would see the effort he had put into it.

The first time he told his father about his passion for music and showed him his skills in a song he'd been practising for two days straight, his father had laughed at him. Taken the guitar pick from him and thrown it in the trash. “Creativity won't get you anywhere son" he'd told that day. The son, had picked up the pick from the trash, and wiped it clean with the same sleeve he used to wipe his single tear away. He went back into his room and began practising again, this time with more determination. He played at the talent contest to a standing ovation. And among the crowd, his father stood, clapping his hands along with the crowd, accepting defeat. His heart broke at the thought that his son wouldn't be what he wanted, but he wanted his son to achieve something he himself wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of his son resenting him for not letting him go for his dreams.

The son didn't notice the cars that almost hit him or the people that continually yelled at him to get off the road. He walked fast, tears blurring his eyes, finding their way down his cheek and mingling freely with the sweat running down his brow.

The headlights of a car looked like eyes to him now. Eyes that burned brightly with a sort of vengeance. On impact, he flew above the front of the car and over it, finally falling with a heavy thud behind it. The car went ahead for a little while at slow speed and then stopped. A head came out through the open car door, his eyes unlike the headlights reflected guilt and a sense of fear. He looked at the son for a few seconds, contemplating what his next step should be. He looked around and was satisfied when he saw nobody. He moved his head back in and closed the door, waiting only for a few minutes before driving off, slowly gaining momentum.

Their relatives combined the funerals into one so that they could get it over with fast. Some found it very lucky that they died together; they knew it would be impossible to survive without the other. The son died shortly after the father breathed his last. The hospital staff accepted no blame in the death of the father, and they didn't bother to make an excuse for not calling the son immediately after the father’s death. For nobody even knew what exactly had happened that day.

There were sweet words that were spoken and a few tears were shed. The funeral was not exceptionally beautiful or unforgettable; it was a plain and simple end to a plain and simple life. At the end of it, when everyone left, they were alone again, side by side in the graveyard.

- Mufitha Jasmine