An Untimely Epiphany
By: Fahad Alam E.
Tags: Mothers, Wisdom, Short Story, Ti̇me, Moral

The late afternoon has put an unusual color of gloom over the usual blend of purple, pink, and orange across the azure sky. What started off as blissfully unbecoming trickles on this hot summer afternoon has started to progress to a downpour of countless cats being chased by countless dogs… The sight of the raindrops diving accompanied by the absorbing taps as they immediately hit the surface is almost trance-like. Like a rampant forest, rain is a beauty relished best from afar, atop but a beast up close- one requires decent degree of fervor and drive to encounter such beasts. Will is just another nuisance- a stubborn demanding mistress that refuses to understand the intricacy of any situation- incessantly enticing me to stay back, push those windows open and watch the shades of darkness as the curtains in my room would sway across. I have to go out though, no time to admire nature’s magnificence. So, I strapped my shoe laces and swung my bag when mum called out.



-“Don’t forget to take the umbrella I bought you last week; it’s pouring outside.”



“I don’t want to! I don’t like the color and I can do fine without an umbrella. Plus, it feels like taking care of a kid when carrying an umbrella…”



-“Like you would know anything about taking care of a kid,” was her reply with her usual wicked sense of sarcasm… that was it-end of logic, thus end of conversation! I really did not have any experience whatsoever of babysitting a kid, let alone raising one. So, defeated and annoyed, I decided to add the graffiti-ed abomination of maroon and pink to my arsenal and set out the doors. I am welcomed with a running stream of water as I stand on the final step of the stairs. “Lord, bless my favorite shoes!” I tune into my current- favorite playlist, put my headphones on, draw my umbrella out and set sail for my destination. Voila, a foolproof plan to make this damp journey a happy one.



“I’ve waited a hundred years

But I’d wait a million more for you

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do…” — Ryan O’Neil’s beautiful melodious voice was heard over the piano.

My foolproof plan to enjoy the rain wasn’t really working out; I had to keep looking behind at my heels as water splashed with every step I took. I was anxious of my bag that had my laptop and was vulnerable to water. I was sure that my was bag was soaking in the rain, so I kept trying to adjust my umbrella when I turned to my right and saw a school boy, probably 10/11 years of age, possibly heading home. He was almost as occupied as I and gave me the perfect solution to my problem. Trotting with an air of bliss, he had switched his school bag forward over his torso and walked in this rain with ease. AH! Now, why didn’t I think of that? With my new vested zeal inspired by this kid, I balanced my umbrella between my neck and shoulder, and at once switched my bag. I was confirmed of my suspicions- the face of my bag was wet but to my relief my laptop was still dry.

I preceded, with my new learnt trick, my atrocious umbrella resting on the hand grip of my bag and headphones intact in their original place, trying to walk with finesse and not to paying attention to the mocking gazes as I did. The track on my playlist had changed; it was Chris Martin on the piano now singing away in his dulcet voice:



“…And I always look up to the sky

Pray before the dawn

’Cause they fly always

Sometimes they arrive

Sometimes they are gone

They fly on

A flock of birds

Hovering above…”



I felt uneasy now- my shoulders extremely fatigued… I tried adjusting the straps on my bag — loosening them, tightening them. Nothing I did seemed to work. The rain and the wind even more ruthless… “May be I could wait this out in the shelter”- I thought to myself. A quick glance at my watch and I learnt that I only had 15 minutes before my exams had started. Everything seemed impossible now; the mental pressure of the thought that I was going to be late for the exam and of being possibly banned from the premises doubled on the physical agony. With no taxi in sight and the aggravating ache on my shoulder and back, I paced forward. I was now holding the bag on my palms to relieve the tension on my torso. That’s when the realization struck me! I stopped in my tracks for a brief moment to let this epiphany sink in. I was now feeling only a small ounce of the troubles a mother had to go through caring for her unborn. May be, this is why women are by nature adapted to have their wombs in front of them- they are in a position of a protective lookout for their child like a tigress on constant vigilance. In this marsupial position, they are not only able to have a careful eye on their child but share the sight they saw, and prepare their unborn for the uncharted territory that it was about to enter.



A taxi halted at my aid now; I got in and emphatically recalled of the encounter with my mother today. 10 minutes before the exam commenced, I was on my way- a little more preoccupied, somewhat wiser, and a bit older!