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A Quest for Heaven

A Quest for Heaven

  written by Priyanka Banerjee, Delhi (India)

   Yasi was sitting outside of her house and unwinking she was watching the hill which was not far from her house.

She heard from Kamala aunty that on the other side of the hill there were some children like her. 

Yasi was thinking about her good days when her grandfather took her for an evening walk; though that was not a perfect ‘walk’ for her, but her grandfather used to say “Yasi, let’s have a walk together.” Sitting alone on her wheel chair, Yasi was recollecting those stories which her grandfather used to say her. Yasi never saw her grandmother as she passed away before the birth of Yasi; but her grandfather used to say so many stories about his beloved wife that Yasi could visualize everything.” 

Yasi’s reverie broke by the voice of Kamala aunty. In the soft light of twilight Yasi saw all the birds were going back to their nests. Every evening when she saw this ,she knew this was also her time to go to her room. Sighing Yasi turned her wheel chair. 

Every time she looked at the sky, a question came to her mind “ Is there really a beautiful heaven beyond the sky?”

Yasi was a girl of twenty-two. Her father was a well - known businessperson. Yasi got everything she needed, but somehow she was not happy from within. Her grandfather was her only friend in her family whom she had lost four years ago. 

Now there was no one to tell her stories or to take her for a walk in the evening. 

Yasi herself roamed here and there near her house. Kamala aunty was her only friend after the demise of her grandfather. From her childhood Yasi knew that she was different from her elder sister, Malini. Every time, in every occasion, she understood that Malini got more importance than her. Later she understood that the only difference between Malini and her was that Malini did not have to use a wheelchair for going here and there. 

Yasi’s family never felt the importance of spending as much money for Yasi as they spent for Malini’s education. Malini used to go to a well known school, whereas Yasi was sent to another school where the school fees was less than half of Malini’s school. Yasi never complained or wept for all these negligence; rather she thought all these treatments quite natural as she was habituated with these since her childhood.. 

The day when Malini went to London for her further studies, she saw that her father was bragging before one of their neighbours, “ Yes, Mr. Roy, Malini is my quotable daughter. Let my daughter complete her M.B.A, then she will take the oar my business.” Yasi never heard this phrase-‘my daughter’-from her father, for her. 

It was Yasi’s twenty third birthday; though she knew except Kamala aunty no one was there to wish her. Yasi had a hidden wish for a long time and the urge of fulfilling her wish was increasing day by day. 

Yasi was lying in the bed when Kamala aunty entered into her room with a big smile “ Happy birthday Yasi, get up fast, today I will take you to the foot of that hill. A temple is there. Do you want to go there? It’s been long you did not go for a walk, let’s go today.”

After two long years Yasi again heard someone who offered her a walk just as her grandfather. With a broad smile Yasi nodded her head and said, “Aunty I have a request and you have to keep it.” Kamala aunty was looking at her questioningly. “I want to go on the other side of the hill” Yasi kept on saying “I want to meet all those who are like me.” Kamala aunty said, “okay.” This is the first time Yasi asked something from Kamala aunty and she could not neglect it. 

It was ten o’ clock in the morning when Yasi reached the orphanage. There were many children- some were physically challenged and some were not. Yasi found six children who used wheel chair like her to go here and there. 

Yasi was amazed to see that there was no difference among those children. All were playing together; no one was neglected; everyone was treated equally; everyone was happy there. This was something which was beyond the imagination of Yasi. This was the first time when she started to think herself as equal as the other members of her family. She spent a good time there. She told the children some stories of kings and queens which was told to her by her grandfather. She also had her lunch with them – this was the first time she was having lunch so happily as she never got a chance to sit with her family members during lunch or dinner time. 

In the evening she returned home. This was the first time she did not feel abandoned, this was the first time she felt herself as normal as the other people, this was the first time when she found a place where she got the treatment of a family member. Some how she felt a strong connection with those children of that orphanage. The innocent smiles of those faces were floating in front of her eyes. She started to go to the orphanage regularly and spent a good amount of time there. 

Gradually she started going there without the help of Kamala aunty and spent more and more time with those children. The other members of the orphanage also liked Yasi very much. 

Days passed. It had been almost a year Yasi was working in the orphanage as a teacher. She stayed there with the other members of the orphanage and rarely went to her house to meet with her parents. Kamala aunty often came to the orphanage to see Yasi. Yasi was twenty four. 

This year the whole orphanage celebrated Yasi’s birthday with splendour. Of course Kamala aunty was present there, after all it was Kamala aunty who first brought Yasi into her heaven.

Moral : Treat everyone equally.Never feel depressed; there is always something better for you.

Label : Inflame Story

Writer : Priyanka Banerjee, Delhi (India) 


Comments

  1. Just the perfect story to be shared with children...beautiful...very much needed in today's world.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love how deep and rich this character is. She's very relatable, and feels totally real.you can extend this story.the protagonist character reminds me Pollyanna novel by American author Eleanor

    ReplyDelete

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