The Rainy Day

It was pouring. And a 10-year-old girl with a bag full of old books and a rusty umbrella faced a big dilemma.

She walked this route every day to her school, 6 kilometres away from her home. But her school seemed much farther today because of the monsoon rains and the enormous mud puddle that blocked her way.

She had two options.

If she turned back like the day before, she would miss her classes again and could never catch up.

And if she jumped, she may fall in the mud - which meant she would have to spend the entire day in wet clothes at school. She also feared her books in her cotton bag would get ruined. And she couldn't afford that.

There was a very slim chance that she'd jump the whole way. She was barely 4 feet tall.

Yet she jumped.

And against all her hopes, she fell in the mud. She hurried and tried to get out as soon as possible. Her umbrella was broken and her clothes wet. She took refuge under a tree for a few minutes. And she cried.

But she went to school that day. And that made her happy.

This story was one of my mother's childhood memories.

She grew up in a small village that didn't even have a school. And she walked 12 kilometres every day to attend her classes. Even in the treacherous Monsoon season.

And she smiles when she tells me this story.

Anytime I face a serious hurdle that makes me curse my existence on this planet, I think of my mother and her story.

And everything falls back into place, and I'm relieved that my problem is so immaterial compared to the dilemma that a 10-year-old girl faced on that rainy day.