THE SWEET DISASTER

CHAPTER 5: NOT THAT EASY

Dora helped me with whatever I could do about the ‘computer architecture’ thing. One of my seniors took me to the teacher concerned and explained the situation. This was a relief. At Least the teacher would not give me a back, I smiled inside. Those two-three hours in the exam hall were pathetic. I had aches in my hands, the wounds in my back and legs burnt, and I had a massive headache. I wrote in some alien handwriting which I’m sure even I wouldn’t have understood. After having survived the exam I returned back to the room. This was my second exam. Gosh! There were four more to go. Do you sometimes get that strong feeling of smashing your head because you know it is going to be really tough? I felt like that. I felt heavy from the outside and dead from the inside. I hadn’t told my parents about what all happened by then. I decided not to. “Telling them about the accident would get them tensed and they would panic unnecessarily”, I told everyone. I also told them that my father had undergone a CABG and I wouldn’t risk giving him the news that would get him stressed out. I told Mommy the next day that I fell on the ground and hit a big stone and hence got a stitch on my forehead. “Being hit by a bike would sound like crazy and could drive them insane overnight”, I thought. There were no options too. I had my semesters and I had to stay in college anyhow. Moreover, there were my people who took care of me like my parents would do. It was hard trying to keep it away from them because sometimes I really wished they were there.
Though the day wasn’t good enough, the evening was full of fun and laughter. There was yet another thing spinning in my head. One of my best friends was at home at that time. It was the semester break. I didn’t tell him about the incident because I knew he’d be devastated. However, I told him after finding no reasons to hide. If only I could write about what would have crossed over him. Like getting hit by the lightning? Maybe.
And from there the message spread over to my cousins. Everyone wished me good health and faster recovery. Even the people in my hostel came and asked about my well-being. I forgot to tell them how nice it felt. I remember how loved I felt. The extra care from my friends, those constant wishes to get well soon and all the goodwill really helped me get over the bad things.
I got back the footwear and also my umbrella. Someone from the medical shop nearby had collected it for me. I owe a mighty thanks to the people who were there with me.  I wish I’d known them so that I could thank them in person. This was the part of my life where something tragic ended up to be something I’d cherish life long.