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Short Story : Acclimatize

Nipun and his sister were the introverted new comers in the colony. They had come down from one of those north eastern states where even availability of new brands of ice creams (which appeared each night as advertisements on the sole state television channel after the daily dose of abysmal news telecast) was a luxury to say the least.

Father had a transferable job, so every 3-5 years they were forced to leave their best friends back and move on to a new, strange place, with new rules, a new weather, a new school uniform and it's curriculum. Sports had always interested him as it channelized his nervous energies, all his internal conversations into some form of energy. 

Sometimes spending energy on the ground helps you not have the energy to think about a haphazard life with no control over your surroundings.

Sports made him switch off his social brain and just execute tasks to the best of his ability. He was not strategic about sports, it was not really the team work or the figh…

Short Stories : Light at the end of the Tunnel




The distress and poverty in most developing nations is not just present but also visible and sometimes in your eyes, so much so that it makes you almost accustomed to the pain you see around each day. 

Moving around in public areas, you learn to ignore or rather include a certain level of pain & poverty in the landscape of life around you see.  

We often get used to these surrounds, we adapt, adjust and try to fit into this landscape. The pain is usually side-tracked and slowly & gradually it becomes a way of life. 

Not that it is right or wrong; It is just the way it is or has been. The culture along with these economic realities shape a new amalgamation of a hybrid society that forgets, not all that they see or do each is necessarily on the right side of things. 

Is Life fair anyways ! and why should it be fair or right. 

Ramnath, was a young boy who usually attended his 11th grade lectures in the night/evenings and worked at a newspaper printing press during the day. Stayed on a footpath near his college. 

It was a dark alley at the end of an even darker future that people there saw, felt & foretold everyday. 

He wanted to pursue his higher studies in the field of commerce and finance because he was constantly bombarded with the lack of those in his life.

One fine day, he set out on his usual work schedule at 6 in the morning. He would start off by collecting his 2 bundles from the center and start distributing newspapers in the lane assigned to him. 

He would finish the whole distribution within 20-22 minutes and would do so with a big smile on his face. 
That day too he was as sharp as ever and was on his rounds to distribute. He was dot on time and was more than three quarters done with the work when he was hit by a sudden jolt of pin pricking pain & heat generating from & rising in his shoulders right up-to the back of the Neck- base of his head region. 

For around 10 mts of cycling he was trying to overcome and ignore the pain go about the job but could not. He had to stop and address the back of his neck and right hand side of his shoulders. 

He was writhing in pain on the side of the quite lane which was lined with tall, dense trees on both sides and bungalows of high ranking public servants on either side. 

It was about 6.15 am -6.17 am and the sunlight was just about lighting up the sky. People were beginning to start their morning jog routines and children were still 10-15 minutes away from leaving home for their schools. 

The calm around was disrupted by Ramnath's disconcerting pain. 2 people with their rich looking dogs rushed to the spot where Ramnath lay constrained by his pain. Few other went about their morning routine unaffected or glanced at the scene while they moved on. 

Ramnath was now unable to move his left hand side of his body, which was stiff and frozen, almost felt like an uncoordinated piece of mass attached to his body without balance and the cycle fell on the street with a loud enough ring to wake up a few people, who came out on their balconies to see the commotion caused on the street.

One of the dog owners called the local hospital ambulance hotline number and he was rushed to the hospital, where he was declared out of danger and partially paralyzed.  

His father, who worked at a sugar factory nearby was called and asked to come. Hospitals are a unique machinery in developing nations which instills a rare mix of a fear of bankruptcy and the coldness of death. 

Ramnath's father was naturally fearful of the state of his only son, his own finances, whether they would suffice in the conditions at hand and also the psychological blow of handling the cold, rude hospital staff which was quite hostile towards most people. 

Hospitals are the new gold standard of corruption and data fudging combined together, and when it came to the poor like in the case in point, they were the top targets by a good margin. 

Ramnath's father had to mobilize all his liquid funds, some gold & some property to pay for the 8 day odd medical expenses; which meant his savings would be considerably wiped out and his son would continue breathing. 

Ramnath was paralyzed. No-one knew the exact reason for it. But it had now struck him, his dreams and even his family's current and future economic conditions & even their aspirations. He was after-all a hope and an earning member of the family. 

To see the brighter side of things, Ramnath was thankfully sent back home within 8 days with some medication and complete rest guidelines for at-least a few months and his state was categorized as stable. 

Now he would lay on his bed, dependent on his mother or father and have thoughts of how he would now clear his exams in coming months, which would decide his future. His dream of studying the commerce and finance fields would not let him sleep well.

 He would try and learn to write with his non-dominant left hand and try to do the physio therapeutic exercises told to him by his doctors. 

Things were moving slowly but steadily. He kept at it and was soon able to write legibly with his left hand and even paint with it. Painting supposedly helped the motor skills and one's control over brain -hand-eye co-ordination. 

He did everything he felt was possible to do under his circumstances and was under his purview to get back to a respectably good state of countering his situation. This went on for a while. He even tried riding his bicycle to get back on his feet and earn. 

He eventually went on to clear his exams with good grades 6 months down the line. His grit and determination was such that he was felicitated by many organisations and NGOs. 

He got a full scholarship for his commerce degree and eventually also shared his experience on various forums. Became quite a name on the motivational speakers arena. 

He shared his experience, his fight and eventually his journey became an example of how anyone can see light at the end of the dark footpath he lived on, no matter how tough your circumstances are. 

He wrote down his journey in the form of a book which was widely read and appreciated. Ramnath Giri, as we know him today, even went on to become one of the most celebrated motivational speakers of his generation.  

The light at the end of any dark alley, a footpath, or a dark tunnel is what keeps such men up to the task. 

The journey through the darkest of phases in each of our lives holds some meaning, holds the key to the brightest of leaps that follow. The deeper the troughs, the bigger the crests that follow.  

Make sure you do not get bogged down by the darkness because you are the light that keeps that light glowing !


Author's Notes : It is a work of Fiction to Inspire


Comments

  1. I dont now what too say....life is fair...when you lost sometimes...for anither side you wan ...i learn this ...
    I lost many things...but at the end...i recived the most wonderfool gift ...my baby boy....when i look at him....i now....he deserved every sacrifice ....
    Greate story...i appreciete...you hard work...
    Keep like this , bro!
    Wish you all the best!

    ReplyDelete

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