The best thing about this time was the immense love and care I received. The people whom I'd known for just a couple of years were more like a family, like watchful guardians. Everyone did their best to speed up my recovery rate.
Hostel Super also came to see me. Reports were all normal and the bills were paid by my seniors before we left for the hostel. On the way back, we laughed, joked and merrily headed towards our destination. Everyone was trying to cheer me up and make me feel good. Then someone asked if I wanted to go to that Eid-feast. I knew that no one would have had their lunch that day and they must be hungry. Plus, why to have an uncelebrated Eid, when you still have a chance? Remember, I chose to be happy that day? We changed our route and headed to the place where I couldn't go in the morning. The only difference was that I was in a home dress, no makeup, only wounds, scars and the happiness of celebrating with my people. We ate, we laughed, we had fun and I celebrated Eid just the way I wanted to. I was really happy. I was happy to see the concern on their face and how much they loved me. I was happy to see that I am not alone, atleast not here. Even away from my parents, I have a second home and these people are simply lovely at heart.
A little later I realised I had carried my phone and wallet in my hands while I met with the accident. I had been wearing Micku's new belly too. The girl who was with me then picked up my wallet and phone but where was the footwear? I became sad, it was a new pair.
I slept early that night. My body felt really weak. I couldn’t even talk to mommy properly that day. I had called her in the morning but then she was busy with her work. I had also called papa in the noon. Mommy was sorry for not being able to talk to me. She thought that I was upset with her and slept early that night without talking. She didn’t know her kid had had a tough day.
The following days were like a sweet disaster. It did trouble but the pain was all worth it. My roommates made sure I didn’t work at all. They changed my dressing each day, cleaned my wounds, and brought me lunch and dinner and everything else your parents would do. Our senior-cum-sisters showed all the love and care and made me feel at home.
I'm who fucking does that? Yeah, I know I am lucky, and that day onwards I kept realising how much.
YOU ARE READING
THE SWEET DISASTER
Short StoryA realistic tale of college life, tragic, friendship, festival and love.
