I always believed that miracle was the fairy-tale version of coincidences. Everything that happens to us is already decided by god, right? So when we lose something, it was meant to be lost. And when it’s found back, it’s yet another already-decided event of our lives. Sometimes things closest to us are taken away, just so that we pray and plead to him for those. And when we find them back? Miracle! It turns to be a so-called so-impossible ‘miracle’ blessed by god himself, even if it was right where it was left. That is just wrong, right? I believe that losing and finding part is simply forgetting something and recalling it after our prayers.
My family plans to spend the holiday together every year. But this time, i was allowed to join my Australian friends Amanda and Janice, on their trip to cox’s bazar. Definitely, they haven’t been there before. So they wanted me as their guide, and i wanted some personal peace of course.
“Do not stay late up at night. The rise at the sea shore is not worth missing at all. And another thing, I know you’ll be busy shopping for yourself but daadi (grandmother) really likes those Burmese pickles. So try and slip it in anytime you can okay?” said ma right before I left. I nodded to my understanding mother; my sole key to baba’s (father’s) permission to this trip. She was supposed to be this much liberal to her 18-year-old daughter, c’mon!
After the never-ending journey of increase in excitement by the minute, I and my pals reached our breath-taking destination. We took a tiny cottage, five minutes from the sea, with two cozy rooms, a bathroom and a well-accumulated kitchen. It was small and cute, easy to clean up, the way I wanted it. The journey had made us tired enough, but we still freshened up and rushed to embrace the waves. Yes, at night! And it didn’t matter how much our bodies ached to splash and splatter water all over each other. Naive, energetic souls. Every time a huge tide surpassed my thighs, I felt pushed towards the world completely different. Sometimes it seemed as if I was flying about the clouds all baseless. The feeling was somewhat grand, to be away from the world, from my family, to forget all wounds and woes, standing stagnant among the non-stop rush of tides.
The next two days were spent with equal freedom. Spending the day shopping at different places, visiting several temples and ancient sites, and finding ourselves fresh as dewdrops on the morning leaves, in the sea all night. I lived exactly the life of my dreams, independent
We were extremely tired by the last night. We were “home’ soon by the evening and were chatting. All of a sudden, the bell of our cottage rang for the first time. Janice got up to open the door, whereas Amanda and I sat on our beds shaking. When Janice’s scream made us run to the door, I was sent a medium-sized parcel wrapped in light brown paper. To our great horror, there wasn’t any hint of any living being around. And no, there wasn’t as much wind outside as much it requires to push a bell! I picked the parcel up as it made a sound as if my hands were going through more than one packet. It had something solid inside, but quite light. And you know what was scarier? My name on its opposite side. Yes. I’m not even kidding. Three of us closed the door screaming. We couldn’t think of how it came right in front of my door with my name on it.
The anxiety and fright that followed next can’t be expressed in words. We all had different ideas about what to do with the parcel. Amanda was scared to death and thought of leaving it right outside the door. I decided to report to the supervisor of the cottage before opening, because who knows, it might not be mine. But Janice was a little too carried away by the movie ‘serendipity’. She called it fate and karma and what not! She said I was destined to receive this parcel and I should not take it lightly. We laughed at her, especially me with such disbelief in such things. But something about everything she said was so persuasive and appealing.
So at last, we sat on our knees on the bed in a circle to open the big surprise. I tore off the wrapping, my hands trembling for some reason I didn’t know. Janice was completely bolded seeing “stupid local pickles” in my fate and left the room in embarrassment. “goodnight miss ooooh-karma! Goodnight summer! Have fun with your pickles.” laughed off Amanda and left the room too. I sat there silently with the Burmese pickles on my lap. After all, miracles were god’s own little spices to our lives, a gift of our devotion to our beliefs. Maybe my mother had strongly believed I would never forget her, or to thank her, for the days I always dreamed about.
Inspired from: 500 Days of Summer