When the sun fell and all my hopes and aspirations had already plunged with it, I decided that it was time to finally tell my parents the – according to me – rather sad news and the entire truth.

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I took a deep breath and stood up from my spot on the couch from where I had been observing my parents for the past twenty minutes wondering what their reaction would be. Gosh, how ridiculous do I sound? Of course, my parents wouldn’t mind – they knew what sort of a student I was… or well… tended to be. Telling myself to shelve the drama, I walked up to my parents holding my bane out to them knowing for sure that this time, it was my impending death in paper form. My parents looked up at me as I approached and without much warning, I held out my report card to them.

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All was silent and still.

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True, I’m just trying to be dramatic. But it’s the effort that counts. Anyway, my father took the report card from me and flipped it over to where my percentage was written. When his eyes landed on them, I shut my own eyes and clenched my teeth.

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Oh what a failure and disappointment I was.

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“Congratulations!”

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Evidently, my father didn’t agree. My heart fell. I was getting treated well even after the bad percentage I had received. I sighed. My percentage wasn’t that low but neither was it that high. My parents were delighted. With such low marks in the eleventh grade, none of my international college applications would even be assured any more. I had lost it all.

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I had lost everything.

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I smiled back at my parents as they scrutinized the rest of the report card. Once they handed it back to me, I rushed to my room. I shut the door behind me, locking it. Then I flung myself on my bed.

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Immediately the flashback replayed in front of my eyes. I saw my class and I saw my teacher holding my report card out to me. I had tried my gaze to avoid her sorry gaze the entire time. My entire class knew about my big dreams; they all knew what I wanted to do. I saw myself walk to the teacher, take the report card and go back to my seat.

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And then, I saw myself looking at my percentage for the first time. It was all so absurd. The me in my flashback threw her head back and laughed.

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She laughed and laughed.

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Because, she couldn’t cry.

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Not in front of everyone.

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Now, I closed my eyes and fought against the tightness in my throat. I lay on a cold pillow that night and when I finally did fall asleep, all my dreams had left me.

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*

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The next morning was full of numbness. I woke up way too early and stayed in bed. I stared at the ceiling for quite a long time. What came after was a bitter smile; so much for all those international applications. Finally, it was time to actually wake up.  I didn’t want to go to school that day. I had lost the resolve to, honestly. My door to infinity and beyond had been shattered without warning. I was done. But it wasn’t like I had a choice. So when I walked out of the house I did so with all of the equivalent warmth of an ice cube.

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I walked with my head down to the metro station nearest my house. Lugging my heavy bag made me look all the more of a Neanderthal by multiplying my kyphosis into a hundred. There were barely any people out at six am on a Tuesday morning and all seemed dull.

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I entered the metro station and walked towards the topping up machines. I topped up my Nol card as my balance had run low and headed towards the entrance to the platform. I swiped my card and walked past the silver, revolving cold bars. The sound they made seemed to echo all around. The station was almost entirely empty and since I’d seen the station at its peak, the thought made me feel a pang.

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The train was waiting at the platform as I approached. I hopped on with my usual urgency and caught myself an inconspicuous seat near the window. It wasn’t long before the automated voice asked all passengers to clear the doors as they shut themselves and the train started moving.

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I settled in comfortably and glanced out the window. I saw the urban landscape of the great city of Dubai blur past. It was all rushing away so fast. How insignificant the purpose of living this life suddenly seemed. Why did we do what we did every day? I made a sour face and pushed the ridiculously absurd question out of my mind. Yet it lingered, swirling around my head looking for the answer.

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As I looked out the window, a sudden thought sparked in my head. Every day, this train travelled back and forth from station to station at least a hundred times. How much energy was spent on this train? How much time and how many resources? It all seemed like such a waste – it was so void, all of it just meaningless. What was the point of doing the same thing every day, giving life to hope and renewed dreams when all was null in the end. What was the point of living – what was the point of it all?

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Dubai zipped by in my window and all I heard was the soft, subtle whirring of the train.

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It is in the flutter of birds’ wings and in the passing of the clouds. It is in the view of the blinding sun and the beacon of the night. It is in the blink of the eye and the smile of a mouth. It is in the flourish of the heart and the thoughts of our deep memories. We have a purpose and all of it stays with us until the terminus. Because once there’s purpose - all that we are willing to spend on it is worthwhile – that is the way the world works. And if it comes to the thought of the end – it is almost an afterthought because we must all perish sooner or later so long as there has been goodness reaped there is no sorrow or regret to bear.

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The train smoothly progressed onward – there was no feeling of the distance covered – it was progress unstoppable – indomitable. Warmth engulfed my heart and my eyes brimmed. It was inevitable – the smile.  I smiled through a hazy vision.

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It was all so beautiful.

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It is so beautiful.

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And we continued on, unwavering, unflinching. Progress was being made and thousands reaped from its goodness and righteousness. Forward we bounded, the blur of all the things we left behind us flashing away from the front of our eyes. I pushed back in my seat and sat up straighter. My mind cleared and my eyes un-blinked.

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So that was it.

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So this was it.

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How from nothingness to something fragile and then a hope and a dream and then fulfillment and maybe regret and then dust again. This was the life of the world and it wouldn’t do to add the world ‘only’. There was a beauty to it – to living. We may all return to dust in the end but I guess like it’s said, it’s about the journey and not the destination. When we are born, the journey of our life starts and as we grow older we develop responsible consciousness. The smallest of ideas usually have the biggest of realities. From how little, from how nothing to now encompassing, existing, just being. It was a philosophy for the heart and mind to interpret as one. What great contentment can fill you when you have understood the answer to that question which you’d been seeking for the entirety of your life.

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What an odd time for this to dawn upon me; I was on a train in the great city of Dubai.

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The train continued onward with disregard to the gloomy presence at its heart questioning its purpose. It reaped goodness and only goodness.

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I reached my destination in less time than I expected. When the doors opened and the automated voice asked the passengers to mind the gap, I was almost hesitant.

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Almost.

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There was nothing to regret now, or doubt or fear. All was answered. It was time to go. After all, I wouldn’t want to be late for school; it was just the second day of my second chance.

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