While writing about Accident, Incident, or Almighty’s Intervention, I think I forgot to mention something that happened during the heart attack I had. If this becomes a repetition, please pardon me.

My granddaughter had a small fish tank with cute little fish that she used to feed and talk to. On the day I was admitted to the emergency room, one of those fish died. I was informed about this only the next day. Then a sudden thought struck me like lightning: Did the Lord of Death visit our house, touch me, decide I wasn’t ready, and take the fish instead? Why was I spared? Did God leave me behind because there was unfinished business? What could that be? I keep wondering.

Switching to the topic at hand: The flow of life takes us through gardens, forests, mountains, valleys, rivers, deserts, angels, and ghosts. Along the way, there are many zebra crossings, bridges, and narrow paths where we meet a myriad of people. Many influence us in one way or another. Some reside in our hearts, some in our heads, and some remain far away. Yet all of them form an important part of the patchwork of imprints known as memories.

I choose to write about a few.

No guesses are needed for who comes first—my First Standard teacher, of course. She’s deeply engraved in my mind. What made her notice my suffering? How did she so accurately guess the reason? My life took a leap into the world of vision because of her. I remember her distinctly, though not exactly her facial features—a little short, slightly plump but not fat, dark-skinned, and kind-hearted. For me, she was an angel.

Though I was very young, the sight of the lady who came to clear the night soil from the dry latrines made an indelible mark of pity on me. How could a human being be made to do such things?

Then there was a young girl, the daughter of our school’s vice-principal, who took me to school every day in my first standard, protecting me from the sun, rain, and other elements. She remains a fresh memory.

The ground-floor bhuvaji, whom I have written about before—I was scared of her, yet her profound influence on our discipline and behavior helped mold us into a strong fabric.

To be continued... Part 2.