We all have that one drawer in our room that is filled with years and years of deposited memories and random tit-bits, and no matter how many times you may try cleaning it, it returns to its messy form in a few days, just like our earphones get tangled without touching them.
Today, encouraged by the lockdown boredom, I decided to clean this drawer of mine. And I found an old pencil box, pushed to a corner, scratched and dented, gifted by my favorite aunt as a gesture of best wishes for my 12th board exams.
Flashback to 2009, a night before my first paper, I prepare a set of pens, pencils, and a whole lot of other stationary, and fit it all inside my new pencil box.
The exam was to begin at 2 in the afternoon, and I reach there before time. My mom couldn’t cancel her classes for that day, so unlike the other students, I was standing there alone, waiting for the gates to open. I see a few of my friends, each of them standing with a book open, parents force feeding them biscuits and water.
I look at my watch, 1:50PM, the exam would soon start, and the first bell rang, and the gates opened. Just then a sudden realization dawned on me. A chill ran down my spine, my heart skipped a beat. I had forgotten my hall ticket at home!
I ran up to a friend of mine, who was just about to enter the gate, “Listen! Do you have a phone that I could borrow?” I was sweating, a quiver in my voice as my mouth was going dry.
“What happened?” he asked, sensing something was wrong.
“I forgot to bring my hall ticket,” I said as he rushed me towards where his mother was standing.
My fingers trembled as I punched in my mom’s number. I was getting anxious, knowing that my mom strictly wouldn’t see her phone once the class started, and dad was out of town. The phone rang, and my mind was racing to scenarios of how I would have to repeat the year, what would everyone say? They would laugh at me.
She did not pick up the phone, I was doomed. I tried calling again; almost giving up hope, when there was a sudden loud honking behind me.
“Soor!” I hear my mom scream, and I turn around to see my mom waving my hall ticket, visibly angry.
I ran towards her, giving her a hug. She kissed my forehead, and I ran in, as the second bell rang.
This was the real ‘LUCK’ that I needed.