When I was a student of class II, my mother used to drop me to school in the morning and pick me up in the evening. That was a routine which was never skipped and a rule that was never violated. As the school was over, my mother was supposed to be standing at the gate for me, everyday, without a fail. One day, the routine was skipped and the rule was violated. My sister was merely of 3 years then, and my mother had to come to pick me up after doing all her works and that day the work was more than the usual days. So, she was late. When all my friends went to home with their mothers, one by one, I felt afraid, but stopped my tears with a hope that my mother will just arrive. Gradually, my classroom became vacant and so was I from within. I still stood at the gate watching the seniors going home, but still I was hopeful. Then finally she came, and I embraced her like I never had done before and then I cried hiding my face. I was so proud that I did not lose hope and I did not cry. I knew what optimism is.
Next story is a recent one, when my dog was seriously ill and he was in his deathbed. The doctor used to visit two times a day, injected him with antibiotics and steroids. He was alive on saline, two times a day. It was painful to see him like that, in fact, it was more terrible than just painful. He couldn’t walk or even open his eyes. He starved for seven days, did not drink even a droplet of water for a week and then the stings of the syringes. He was like a baby for us and seeing your baby like that is not easy. The hardest truth of life was lying before me, death was it. Strangely, at that time the least I thought about was death. I never thought he could die in front of me. Every time the doctor injected him, he seemed to be improving. As the saline bottles emptied, he seemed to be better than before. I think it was my love for him and my confidence in God that kept me strong during that crisis, or else, I would have broken so badly that I could never been out of the trauma. He died, but it never felt like that. It still doesn’t feel like that. It is like it was before, like he is still alive. I think it the optimism that has kept him alive even after his death.
The world should be filled with nothing but hopefulness, the moment we lose hope, we die a million times. We should be alive, from within.
Courtesy: IndiBlogger
This post is written for the IndiBlogger Happy Hours 'Look Up Stories' campaign in association with Housing.
