|| Hari Om || || Shri Ram || || Ambadnya ||
ANGEL
‘F’
That single letter shouted out of the page at me. I had failed to clear my finals, the fourth time over. I was stunned. To stunned even to cry. I had given my all, genuinely this time.
But still that letter stared at me. F
And I wept inside. That this brilliant student, school topper, envy of all, was reduced to this…
A mere shadow, a wraith, haunting the corridors of this ancient institute that I had once thought was my domain. My friends long since graduated and moved on life in life. They were “Doctors” now. The juniors knew me only as ‘that failure’ and shunned me in general. They had watched me struggle for years. This was nothing new to them. So where was I to go ?
In my despair, I sought advice from my only comfort in this college. A senior teacher, well past the end of her career, but still one to give solace to lost ones like me.
She saw me enter her office and smiled, “You are not the first to struggle so, son. I have taught you and you do not lack talent. But I do not see that fire in your eyes anymore. “
“It’s gone!”, I shouted.
“Well then, let’s get it back” she said. She smiled.
“Ours is an ancient institute. Generations of students have struggled like you, and eventually found the will to succeed. Let me give you some advice. It may seem strange, but trust me. I’ve been around a long time. Walk around the campus, just walk, and call out to the soul of this college. Something, somewhere will respond, and you will find your path again.”
So I walked, I walked and I walked, around the classrooms, through the wards, through the lawns, and found nothing. No ray of hope nor answering voices. Just a lonely wanderer, with only the weight of his failures for company. Finally I collapsed and wept. It was too much for me. Exhausted, I fell asleep, hoping never to wake.
I woke to the sounds of footsteps. I was a little startled.
The place I was hiding in was a place I had discovered after years of solitary wandering. And now another stood before me. She stood there looking at me, and I looked at her, not sure how to react.
She sneezed violently, which broke the spell.
I laughed, she laughed too.
“Hi” I began, “I’m…”, but she interrupted me.
‘The Failure’, I know” she said, but without any sarcasm. In fact the compassion in her voice struck a chord. She paused, but it seemed as though she spoke so much, just in that single moment of silence.
She was young, not extraordinarily pretty, but with a pleasant smile and deep thoughtful eyes.
“My friends call me Angel” she said. “The Professor sent me to find you. I was ill and missed my exam. She said we could study together.”
I was apprehensive at first, but soon warmed up to my new companion.
It was as if we had known each other forever. There was no element of romance to it, just the feeling of two old friends, meeting after a long time. So we began studying together.
She was brilliant, intelligent and a patient teacher. But I was depressed and often left things halfway. And she would cheer me up and we pressed on. Two failures, limping forward in our own way.
Once, particularly frustrated, I said to her,”This is my last attempt. One way or the other. Either I live a doctor, or…” I stopped.
The sorrow on her face was so intense that I couldn’t speak.
“Never say that again” she said, “You do not know how lucky you are that you can try again. So many would give anything for this chance.”
I apologized. I had hurt her. Now, I worked doubly hard, just to make her smile again.
The exams were a week away. She said she wanted to go home and spend time with her family.
“Where do you live?” I asked. “Oh, quite faraway” she said with a wink. “Clear your exams doctor and l will tell you where I live!” A strange one, she was, Angel, so full of life and fun. But beneath all that, past the facade, there was a depth to her I couldn't quite fathom.
“Well”, I said hesitantly, mustering up my courage. “Let’s click a photo together, so that we remember each other. Lord knows when our paths will cross again.
“Why, going somewhere Doctor ? I’ll always be here you know. Besides, I look terrible in photos!”She laughed her sweet little laugh, and walked off, a ghost of a smile still playing on her lips. But I disobeyed and clicked a snap of her smiling face as she turned and walked away. I had to keep some part of her with me after all. A week is sometimes too long to wait!
On the day of the exam she was nowhere to be seen. A different centre maybe? Her phone was not reachable. I wanted to tell her that I would clear this time, that I had written the best I had ever written, all thanks to her. But I couldn’t find her.
In desperation, I went to the old Professor, my mentor and asked her, “Where is Angel? Why did she not write the exam with me?”
“Angel?” asked the Professor. She looked perplexed.
“The girl you sent to study with me” concern creeping in my voice.
“What girl are you talking about, child?”
My hands felt cold. I shivered. “This girl !”, I said, almost shoving my phone in her face.
She frowned. The photograph only showed an empty corridor. The phone fell from my hands. I ran out of her office, dizzy and confused.
What was going on?
Then I heard a familiar laugh. I saw a familiar profile enter the college archives, where the memories of generations were preserved.
I followed her voice inside. The room was empty. As I looked around, to my surprise, I saw a book on the desk near me. It was a college magazine, some 20 years old, moth eaten and full of dust.
And she looked up at me from its pages, her face frozen in her last smile.
And below it the caption said,
“We hold the tears deep inside
Smile despite the pain
For this is not the end dear one
Someday we’ll meet again.
‘Farewell beloved friend,
Illness may take your body, but cannot defeat your spirit.’
An obituary, written by loving friends. And my tears stained the yellowed paper, as their tears must have, all those years ago.
The book fell from my hand.
“I told you I fell ill, and missed my paper.”
I turned. There she stood behind me, smiling. Around her were more, so many more. The shades of all those who over the years had given up, and lost the battle to disease or despair. All of them smiled.
“This is my family. This is where I live. Our energies suffuse the very bricks of these buildings. And we have sworn, we will never let another give up and let go. We know the pain of having our dreams broken, but you have the chance to try again. Never forget how great this gift is.
Take care my friend; this life is yours to live. And remember us. Remember me. For we live on through you.”
“Angel.” They called out to her, welcoming.
She gently held my palms gently in hers.”Goodbye.” And all was silent.
I sat up.
Fresh sunlight streamed in through the windows. Flecks of dust danced merrily to greet the new dawn. A frail hand held firm my own, and pulled me to my feet.
The Professor looked at me knowingly. She closed the book, and placed it on the shelf, back where it belonged.
“I may be wrong, but it seems that two of my students found peace today.” She turned, and walked out of the room.
I followed her out into the bright morning light.
And as I latched the doors to the Archives closed, I could almost hear her voice,“Why the gloomy face ? Chin up Doctor! I’m always here!”
I shook my head, smiling, and walked into the sunshine. Her voice, her words, would stay with me forever. I was now a doctor and no longer alone.
From her place in the shadows, Angel watched him go. She smiled. Their time together had always been brief. She had known that from the start. But that was enough. That was the beauty of it.
And a part of her would live on in him, forever.
-Arnav H. Tongaonkar
||Shri Ram || || Ambadnya || || I Love You my Dad ||
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