No Miracles Here

Now, this is not a funny story, how much it may though seem to be. So promise that you won’t laugh. (you didn’t, I know, let’s try that again, Don’t LAUGH). Here goes..

A few months back, one very late August morning, I was on my bed, doing what I do best, sleeping. By the time my dream paradise kicked me out and I pried my eyes open, I realized I was late for college. Now this isn’t new, nothing to be jumpy about. But remember those days, those days of the “last-chance-for-the-last-date-for-the-already-late-submission-of-the-very-late-and-very-badly-done-project” ? Well, that was one of those days. So simply said, I ran. Didn’t bother changing or brushing ( and food? what’s food?). As I ran towards the bus stand, popping tick tacks on my mouth, I braked to a sudden stop (SCreeEECh). Where the hell is my project? I ran back home, keys fell from my hands twice, I somehow managed to break into my house, take the file and run again.

I couldn’t wait for the bus, (Kolkata traffic I tell you, mind blowing, you really wish you had something to blow your mind). So I cursed a bit and hailed a cab. Reminding sacred old-school conscience how urbane and techie I am, I took out my phone to check how late was I, and as I tried repeatedly to unlock it, light up the screen, pressing all the buttons, sweet realization : my battery was dead. Well, no worries, what are taxi drivers for? I enquired and found out that I was late, but guessed not late enough ( late enough = professor leaving building).

Now it WAS a miracle that there wasn’t much traffic, and I reached college just under 20 minutes. Thanking the taxi wala profusely, and cursing under my breath for the fares, I checked my bag and realized I had just 20 rupees with me; the meter read 60, the cab wala asked 70. (Come on! I didn’t PLAN to sleep late, you really can’t blame me) But hey! What college folks are for right? Nothing. Exactly that. No class mates around, no helpful seniors feeling remotely helpful, and those who had a nagging conscience had an even better “prompt-excuse-to-the-rescue-search-engine”. But it was the day when I had (at that moment) vowed to make things right. I begged the gatekeeper, gave him my id card as safety deposit (…), and got saved from being kidnapped by the taxi driver (he had scary eyes.. uughh).

Marathon run again. Tracker on, search professor. *beep* *beep* *bee..ee.e..p* And... no prof on sight. I took out my mobile to check the time, just to put it back in the jeans again. Now this is the sad part. I felt, lost. I felt, well the word I would have liked to use was Scr#@*D, but more than that, I felt broken. For weeks I had toiled for that file to complete; for those 20 pages I had to read some 60 books and browse through 2000 websites. For that file I had to forget about everything, even that darned break up pangs which kept me from even swallowing a morsel, gave me nightmares, and made me wander aimlessly for hours on my freaking roof.  Damn you professor! why couldn’t you wait, I was worth it, the file was worth it; why did life have to be so unfair, why did I have to get my heart broken, why did I have to cry and tear my hair for that pathetic idjit moron, who couldn’t use his (non functioning and useless) head properly...

I slumped on the floor, and couldn’t stop the few tears from flowing down. I felt tired, and sad, for me. I opened my eyes and saw my best friend looking down at me. She smiled her famous all knowing smile, gave me her hand, helped me up, and said “Madam’s in the conference room, I asked her to wait up.”

I don’t know much about Jesus or Rama or Krishna, but I am very sure, without Peter or Hanuman or Arjuna, they would have had been in pretty bad shapes. Clichéd I know, but what the heck! Cheers for the best friends. When u have them, who needs miracles?

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