Time for the timeless

entire story

When I was fifteen, my life changed forever.

There are many people who wonder about me, they look at me strangely as if trying to understand what could have happened back then but I rarely bother to explain. It was my life that changed forever, not anyone else's. Those years were the best moment of my life.

It was a long time ago but I still remember everything from that year, down to the smallest details. We made thousands of friends in our life, but the friends from schools and colleges are closer to us. They understand us. We can share every thought with them. The things we could never imagine to tell our parents could be said to them. In school we made good friends who always support us no matter what. It is there only that we learn who is good for us and who is bad. Our school life is the best part in our existence.

I relive those few years often in my mind, bringing them back to the life. I take the memories as they come, accepting them all, letting them guide me whenever they can. These happy memories bring happiness to my life, they help me to live and to believe that god really exist. Those memories are combination of happy and sad things that happened with me and with us. My friends Palak, Jai, Niharika, we all had lost a part of ourselves that day. The day which still evoke the feelings of sadness and distress in our mind.

I still remember my shouts and cries which went unheard in the mist of so many people. The way I was covered in blood. Broken limbs surrounded me from all the sides, I was surrounded by dead bodies, and was shouting in pain, but still trying to locate that one person, without whom my life has no meaning, the person who taught me what is life and how to lead it. he was the one who helped me in all the tricky situations of my life.

I still remember Meera crying her heart out and Jai supporting me and Niharika. It was the worst day of my life, I have seen what most people pray to never saw in their life. Till now, I ask god why me? Why he gave me such pain, I have never done anything bad to anyone, I feed the needy, I took care of poor, then why he did such an injustice with me. The date 26 November still boils my blood. What was his fault, what was my fault, just that we wanted to have some fun, and he tried to help a small kid?

Does helping someone meant bad? Isn't it just the opposite, we should help others; we were always taught that, so why we all got punishment for something good we did?

These questions still haunt me along with the memories of that day.

By the way I am Gauhar shergill, a sixty-year-old architect. Right now, I am wandering in my terrace garden, this was the house me and Jack designed just after getting married but it was a long time back. I still miss Jack a lot. I was remembering my old days and my special memory which I remember each and every day. I was almost asleep when I heard my grandson's voice 'mom, please tell us a story 'ayan shouted, 'yes mom please, it's been twenty days now, please mum.' Ananya said.

'What happened kids?'I asked

'Mom is not telling us a story, you tell her.'

'Grand ma can't you tell us a story?'

'Ummm...which story?'

'you story, something no one had heard before, not even daddy.' Ayan said

'ok, but do you believe in miracles?'

'no granny, never.' Ayan said

'then there is no point of this story, this story is just miraculous, this is the story about me. It has an angel.'

'wow, you met an angel?'

'yes, ananya, I personally knew an angel. Right now, he is guarding you all.'