As I watched my daughter graduate, many a thoughts flashed my mind. I felt very uneasy. I did not feel so because my daughter graduated, it was because I was there to witness it, and I had this strong urge that I stole somebody else's lifetime. It always does whenever something good happens. With a heavy conscience I tried to justify my actions of long ago.
It happened almost a decade ago. The very memory of it brings me shudders. I was working as the personal guardian of an MLA. My job was to go wherever he goes and get him whatever he wants, ranging from cups of tea to whatever document he wants. He was very famous for his bribery (and I swear that I have no part in it). It was the major subject of controversy between my wife and I. She always objected me working there. I still regret for not listening to her. What is the use of crying over the spilt and spoilt past?
Though he was never a kind master, never the one you would be happy to think about. Every morning he made me wish for the evening, when the evening breeze swept through my hair as I sat in my backyard. With a heavy heart I went to bed every night that I had to work the next day. Many times I considered changing my profession, but nothing worked out to the salary of the present job. And then one day this incident took place. I never thought that this day would become such a life-changer.
It started just like any other miserable day. Nothing supernatural that could have given me the slightest idea that something worse was going to happen occurred. The minister told me that he had been called for a public meeting to the nearby district. He slept peacefully through the traffic with hardly a concern for the bumpy road that promised to make you throw up. After the tiresome journey, we finally got there, and the programme started with the flag hoisting and many other so called patriotic gestures. Then it happened. I always wish that I had it in my powers to reverse it; out of nowhere I know where, a stray bullet came piercing the air right towards the minister. I rushed to take the bullet upon me and save him with my life.
Just then, something happened. All of a sudden, everything seemed so frozen. And I calculated that if I move fast enough, I could take the shot upon myself.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you"
I turned around to see a stranger who I have never seen in my whole life.
"Who are you?"
"Your fate"
And a hysterical laugh.
"Who? and What do you want?"
"I have come to make you reconsider your decision"
"What decision?"
"You haven't changed a bit since I last met you"
Again the same laugh.
"I don't remember meeting you before"
"Well, it doesn't matter. Do you have to take the bullet?"
"Yes. It's my job?"
"Your job? To get killed in his place? To take the punishment for his actions? Seriously?"
Again the same laugh.
"Don't you have any second thoughts? Like what might happen to your family, for instance?"
"What?" I stammered.
"Well have a look."
Suddenly I was standing in my house and looking at my own coffin. And there my wife was crying her life out. I tried to comfort her. But it was all vain.
Things that followed were worse. Few days later, all the relatives left. And there she was without the slightest idea of what to do. I realised my mistake. She did not even know what insurances I had. She received compensation from none of them. Nor the minister visited our family to show his condolences nor provided some monetary help. Poverty started to grip the family. My son had to drop out of school. I remembered his childhood days filled with dreams of future. He never saw any of them come true. Grief gripped my throat. But none could see me. He who should have been a happy bird in college was sweating with the labour's tools in hand. He did not look his age. His hair, his pride was turning bald. No food was good. The house looked so poor that even a beggar would despise it. With all his hard earned savings, my son conducted my daughter's wedding in the best way he could to a fellow labour. Even after years my wife mourned my death without a soul to console. It hit my heart hard to know how things change from good to worse. To make things worse, the stranger took me to the minister's house, where everything was more than sufficient. His daughter had her so called expensive dream wedding to another fellow "rich guy" and his son had his education in one of the best colleges in the country though he had the worst scores (yeah money played once again) and got an amazing job too. Nobody over there cared for the "dead me", who saved his life so that his family will be better at the cost of mine?
As I stood bewildered, the stranger appeared again.
"Good choice"
As he said that, and before I could do anything, the bullet flew along with the minister's life.
Well, I survived. The minister's family got along so well. He got buried with the 21 gun shots and a speech on how patriotic he was. His wife got remarried and inherited his whole property and his son's and his daughter's life remained the same of what I saw.
I pledged that day to take my family to a better level and spend more time with them, though guilt tags with me wherever I go.
It happened almost a decade ago. The very memory of it brings me shudders. I was working as the personal guardian of an MLA. My job was to go wherever he goes and get him whatever he wants, ranging from cups of tea to whatever document he wants. He was very famous for his bribery (and I swear that I have no part in it). It was the major subject of controversy between my wife and I. She always objected me working there. I still regret for not listening to her. What is the use of crying over the spilt and spoilt past?
Though he was never a kind master, never the one you would be happy to think about. Every morning he made me wish for the evening, when the evening breeze swept through my hair as I sat in my backyard. With a heavy heart I went to bed every night that I had to work the next day. Many times I considered changing my profession, but nothing worked out to the salary of the present job. And then one day this incident took place. I never thought that this day would become such a life-changer.
It started just like any other miserable day. Nothing supernatural that could have given me the slightest idea that something worse was going to happen occurred. The minister told me that he had been called for a public meeting to the nearby district. He slept peacefully through the traffic with hardly a concern for the bumpy road that promised to make you throw up. After the tiresome journey, we finally got there, and the programme started with the flag hoisting and many other so called patriotic gestures. Then it happened. I always wish that I had it in my powers to reverse it; out of nowhere I know where, a stray bullet came piercing the air right towards the minister. I rushed to take the bullet upon me and save him with my life.
Just then, something happened. All of a sudden, everything seemed so frozen. And I calculated that if I move fast enough, I could take the shot upon myself.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you"
I turned around to see a stranger who I have never seen in my whole life.
"Who are you?"
"Your fate"
And a hysterical laugh.
"Who? and What do you want?"
"I have come to make you reconsider your decision"
"What decision?"
"You haven't changed a bit since I last met you"
Again the same laugh.
"I don't remember meeting you before"
"Well, it doesn't matter. Do you have to take the bullet?"
"Yes. It's my job?"
"Your job? To get killed in his place? To take the punishment for his actions? Seriously?"
Again the same laugh.
"Don't you have any second thoughts? Like what might happen to your family, for instance?"
"What?" I stammered.
"Well have a look."
Suddenly I was standing in my house and looking at my own coffin. And there my wife was crying her life out. I tried to comfort her. But it was all vain.
Things that followed were worse. Few days later, all the relatives left. And there she was without the slightest idea of what to do. I realised my mistake. She did not even know what insurances I had. She received compensation from none of them. Nor the minister visited our family to show his condolences nor provided some monetary help. Poverty started to grip the family. My son had to drop out of school. I remembered his childhood days filled with dreams of future. He never saw any of them come true. Grief gripped my throat. But none could see me. He who should have been a happy bird in college was sweating with the labour's tools in hand. He did not look his age. His hair, his pride was turning bald. No food was good. The house looked so poor that even a beggar would despise it. With all his hard earned savings, my son conducted my daughter's wedding in the best way he could to a fellow labour. Even after years my wife mourned my death without a soul to console. It hit my heart hard to know how things change from good to worse. To make things worse, the stranger took me to the minister's house, where everything was more than sufficient. His daughter had her so called expensive dream wedding to another fellow "rich guy" and his son had his education in one of the best colleges in the country though he had the worst scores (yeah money played once again) and got an amazing job too. Nobody over there cared for the "dead me", who saved his life so that his family will be better at the cost of mine?
As I stood bewildered, the stranger appeared again.
"Good choice"
As he said that, and before I could do anything, the bullet flew along with the minister's life.
Well, I survived. The minister's family got along so well. He got buried with the 21 gun shots and a speech on how patriotic he was. His wife got remarried and inherited his whole property and his son's and his daughter's life remained the same of what I saw.
I pledged that day to take my family to a better level and spend more time with them, though guilt tags with me wherever I go.
