From The Journal Of
December 25th, 2186
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
I just got this digijournal today. My parents wanted me to have it so I can write down what I did once in a while. I don’t really know why because my life isn’t interesting at all. My name is Christopher Hollis. I'm a 13-year-old freshman in the upper district. I don’t have a girlfriend, I don’t have a best friend. I work at my father’s liquor store. My favorite teacher is holo-teacher #16 because the kids from previous years have tinkered with it to make it interesting.
A digijournal is a journal that you write in, but all of the entries that you put in it uploads to the cloud just in case you lose it.
A holo-teacher is a person that had all of their memories uploaded to the cloud and used as AI for projections of themselves.
February 5, 2187
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
I asked out Jenny Slate today, and she said yes. We are going on our first date this Friday to the really good historic place on the corner of Fifth and Hudson. It was actually built in the two thousands, in 2049! I get to drive her myself, as I got my hover-car license this past January. I just hope that I don’t screw up…
A hover car is exactly what it sounds like, but it can also go on the ground.
February 6th, 2187
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
Last night I had my first kiss with Jenny, and she said that she wants to hang out again sometime! I think that means that I did well, and that I didn’t mess up! I'm really excited about this, because it could mean something good, and that this could turn into something serious. I have to go to bed now, so I'll write sometime soon.
May 13th, 2194
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
I lost my journal and just found it today. A lot has happened since I last wrote in this - I went to college this past month. I really think that When I got to college, a new techno virus had broken out in the Middle East, causing all electronics in a radius from the center of the country to glitch and malfunction.
July 4th, 2194
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
Happy 4th of July! The first teleportation machine was invented a few weeks ago, and now almost every dorm in the school has one with destinations set to all of our classes, with each of our home addresses. I am thinking of proposing to Jenny when I get home from college. I also learned in history class that humans used to go to college for around four years, instead of six months!
November 1st, 2194
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
I graduated college yesterday, and I proposed to Jenny at dinner, and she said yes! Our wedding is going to be in April, since we have the wedding planner bot do it for us. I am going to go, as they used to say, “radio silent” for a while.
A wedding planner bot is a bot that you program all of your favorite things into the bot and the company that built it creates the perfect wedding based on what the bot tells them, and what you tell the bot.
April 31st, 2195
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
I’m married, I’m married! Jenny and I moved into our new house a few days ago and I write this from our bedroom. A UFO has appeared above Ohio this past Thursday and has been getting closer by the day. I am not sure whether to be afraid of it or to be excited, because of really old movies about people getting abducted by aliens. Last month, a scientist has found the cure to cancer, but is selling it for extremely high prices. I also got a job as a firefighter, but I have had no assignments yet.
May 12th, 2195
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
I don’t have much time until I have to leave. Thankfully I have gotten my equipment on faster than most people, so I have a little bit of time to write this. There is a major fire in downtown New New York, and they need everyone in the station. Jenny, Mom, Dad, I know that I will see you after this.
The Obituary of Christopher Michael Hollis
Christopher M. Hollis died in a fire in downtown New New York from an explosion right after seeing a child and their dog out the door, and before that, saving five other people’s lives. He was the husband of Jenny T. (Slate) Hollis, and their unborn child, who was yet to be delivered and named, now born a few weeks ago and named Christopher. Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Hollis married in April, 2195 to thunderous applause and cheers. Mr. Hollis was an academic, working as a firefighter for three years even though graduating from Harvard’s medical school in 2195. He worked in his father’s liquor store and was unemployed as a grocery store bagger when he was sixteen due to robo-baggers taking his and other people’s jobs in that industry. He never had a best friend, and he never had any motivation to do anything other than his wife and family, but he did things like save other people’s lives. When he was a young boy, he never got into trouble. He stayed away from trouble, but then on multiple occasions he stood up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. His acts of kindness only got better as he got older - saving a young child’s life from being run over by a car when he was 14. His peers often came to him for advice, but he never got so much as a thank you. It was these small acts that shaped him into the hero that he was that day in the burning building, knowing that it was possible he would not return. These are acts of heroism that we hope day by day to see someone do half of this. If everyone was just a bit more like Christopher Michael Hollis, the world would just be that much better.
A note, found on the ground outside a window of the building Christopher died in
Epilogue
May 21st, 2208
From the journal of Christopher Hollis
My name is Christopher Hollis. It’s my 13th birthday today, and Mom wanted me to have this digijournal so I can write down what I am doing once in a while, but my life isn’t interesting at all. I’m a 13-year-old freshman in the upper district. I don’t have a girlfriend, I don’t have a best friend, and I work at my mother’s winery. I grew up never knowing my father - Mom said that he left a while ago to work and never came back, but I never knew where he worked. My favorite teacher is holo-teacher #16 because 20 years or so ago, some kids messed with it and it never got fixed so it does some funny stuff. I found some other journal entries in here from another Christopher Hollis. I wonder who that is...
I stared longingly out into the deep blue sea, watching my younger brother Kai splash in the waves. The sun was shining and a warm, salty summer breeze blew through my hair, but a queasy feeling resided in my stomach.
The beach was one of my favorite places on Earth. I loved the salty air and the grainy sand that ran over my toes as I walked. I loved the squawking seagulls and the sleek bodies of dolphins that leap up gracefully into the air. There was just one problem: I was afraid of the ocean. The ocean is a vast body of frothy, foaming water--like a majestic, untamable beast--beautiful, but dangerous.
The first time I had ever been to the beach was in first grade. I bounced into the car with pink sunglasses, my baby blue floaties, and a big smile on my face. For the entire duration of the drive, I was spellbound. Glued to the window, I could never look away, not even for a glance. When we reached the beach, the sun was shining down on me and my smile was still planted on my face. The sapphire blue sea and swirling patterns in the sand made me gasp in amazement. I never wanted to leave.
“Whoa… Mommy, look! Birdies!” I exclaimed, pointing at a flock of seagulls sailing overhead. Formed in a symmetrical V shape, they glided through the air, flapping their wings in unison. It was like paradise.
But that’s when it happened. Suddenly, after nearly an hour of playing in the shallow waves, a wave nearly three times as tall as me (which wasn’t actually that tall, but compared to me, it was monstrous) was looming over me.
It shoved me under the water. The sand brushed harshly against my arms and legs, scratching me like claws. I swam up to the surface, gasping for air. I crawled up on the beach, wishing I had stayed home. From that day on, I had been terrified of the ocean.
Kai giggled, bringing me back to the present. I loved his laugh. I absolutely adored him, even though he could be a total pain.
“Lianna, come play with me!” he called.
“Uh… sorry, Kai, I’m busy,” I lied, taking a book from my bag.
He pouted at me with his little puppy dog eyes. I sighed. “Maybe later, okay?”
“Fine.” He folded his arms against his chest.
I buried my toes in the warm, soft, sand, and tried to enjoy my book. Normally I loved reading, but I was distracted by the waves. They looked as if they could swallow someone whole if they wanted to. I really, really, hoped they didn’t want to. I gulped, turning my eyes back to my book.
Eventually, I really did start to enjoy my book, and I read peacefully for an hour. Just as my book was reaching the climax of the story, I was interrupted by someone yelling my name.
“Lianna!” they shouted, startling me. At first I thought it was Kai again, but then I noticed my mom waving her arms madly in the air.
I waved. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Kai’s missing,” my mom explained, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
I inhaled sharply. “Oh no.” My face paled with worry, and my mind flashed back to that day in first grade, but I forced myself not to panic.
My mom was really pretty. Her pale yellow dress flowed in the wind, and her teal blue eyes sparkled with the rays of the shining sun. Her smooth, straight blonde hair was tucked behind her ears as it blew behind her with the wind--but now was really not the time to think about that.
For the next twenty minutes, we paced across the beach, searching desperately to find him. As I stared intently across the glistening sand, I realized he might not even be on the beach. He could be kidnapped, or lost, or drowning in the ocean. My heart was beating a thousand beats a minute, and I look around in despair.
Time stretched on and on and on. Soon, the sun began to set. That’s when I spotted something bobbing up and down in the ocean. When I looked closer, I realized it was Kai, sputtering for breath. Before I knew what I was doing, I tentatively took a step into the water, and dove into the frigid depths of the treacherous waters.
I inhaled shakily. I looked up. I gulped. All I could see were the waves towering above me. My mind filled with fear. Then I spotted Kai, struggling helplessly in the water. I tried to look brave, even though on the inside I wanted to drift away into the sea, because it would be so easy just to give up. But so many people were depending on me: My mom, my dad, my brother. All the people that cared about me and my brother. I couldn’t give up on them. “Kai! I’m coming!” I shouted, not knowing if he could hear me.
Shivering, I pushed myself closer and closer towards him, and farther and farther away from the sandy shore. Finally, I was able to grasp Kai’s fingers and pulled him back to land. Coughing and breathing heavily, I collapsed onto the sand.
My mom ran up to us, her eyes filled with tears. “Are you two okay?” she inquired with concern. I could see her trembling with shock.
I nodded, and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Lianna, that was incredible!” my best friend, Mel, exclaimed, reaching out a hand to help me up.
I smiled weakly. “I was pretty great, wasn’t I?” I laughed softly. Kai embraced me with his tiny little arms.
“You’re the bestest sister anyone could wish for,” he whispered. As I gazed back out into the ocean, reflecting the fading rays of the setting sun, I realized that I didn’t feel fear anymore. All I felt was love, pride, a strong sense of courage--and a new respect for the ocean.
It was the worst drought the country has ever seen, the sun had beaten down the dry earth of the Pakistani land to a pulp, but no one was impacted as hard as the citizens of the rural Nagra village. Everyone around were seen trying to find shelter like it was the worst storm of the century or striping their clothes off as far as they decently could to get at least a whisper of wind. It’s been like this for years now with no sight of relief, no rain, no wind, just burning sun and dry farmland. No one had seen this type of weather in fifty years, and seemed only to become worse day after day. Many of the men travelled towards the urban parts of Punjab to find jobs that could replace the ones they lost because of the drought.
Anaya was a young girl whose head had reached her father’s waist, and was commonly seen with her favourite dark green scarf around her neck. However even for her small stature, she was a big part of her family. She was the only daughter in her family, and her younger brother was too young to even say the words “Ammi” to take up the torch of the son’s sole responsibilities, so she felt the heat of the spotlight as well as the heat of the sun. Her skin was fair from staying inside to reduce the chance of a “dusky complexion” as her mother said, and her long hair was dark brown like fertile, wet farmland.
Her father had taught her how to read and write, saying,
“Knowledge is a wealth no can steal, Anaya.” Giving her one book every year since she was able to read, her mother even agreed that being intelligent is something people would buy millions for. Now that her father was gone she never had time to read any more, helping her mother with taking care of her younger brother and fetching water from far away, counting down each month to hear from her father and his life in the city. On her birthday she would always get a short cheap book from the flea market, and this continued for years, until something special came into the mail on her fourteenth birthday.
“A package came in for you Anaya!” Her mother called out to the figure who was approaching the house lugging a heavy jug; Anaya’s fair complexion had darkened much to her mother’s disappointment from doing the many chores that her father would normally do, and her hair was cut shorter than before. However, Anaya’s slow speed quickly sped up from the mention of a package for her causing her to drop the jug harshly on the course dirt ground, ignoring the drops of precious water wetting the ground in the process.
She grabbed the package out of her mother’s hand, yelled, “Thank you!” and then ran inside to her room. She ripped open the package with anticipation of a child on Christmas, before she struck gold. There on her desk laid a scrunched up letter, and a box with a green scarf inside…no book in sight. The excitement left her eyes, before she impulsively dropped the scarf on her bed, and grabbed the letter roughly to see the meaning behind the disappointment her father caused.
Dear Anaya,
I hope this package arrived on time for your birthday.
I know that I’ve been gone for too long, but I hope you like the scarf. I know that it looks it has been through a lot, but it’s very precious to me, and I want you to keep it safe.
I hope that you are doing all right, but from the letters your mother is sending to me, I know that you’re not doing the reading exercises I’ve left you.
Knowledge is a wealth no one can steal, Anaya, but I won’t t be lecturing you today because I’ve got something serious to talk to you about, it’s a story that happened when I was your age… You are still eight right?
“No! I’m fourteen!” Anaya interjected out loud to no one, falling back on to her mattress.
I’m just kidding, you’re eleven right?
“No!” Anaya giggled at her father’s joke.
All right, you’re fourteen I know, I know, now onto something more serious, Anaya.
I’m going to share a story that’s very special to me, and I want you to know about it.
When I was your age, there was a drought just like this. The sun looked bigger, the air was hot, and there was barely anyone outside except for those who were manning the crops or carrying water back from the river. It was like I was living in a desert, and sometimes I swore I could even see mirages in the distance.
Until, suddenly someone decided that it would be better for everyone to pitch in to gather water for the whole village, store it in a storage room, and ration it out until the drought ended or until more water was needed. Everyone thought it would be a good idea and so we all grabbed our jugs and headed out to the river; every man, woman, grandmother, grandfather, and child were helping out. However, as I was grabbing my jug, I looked back to see a boy sitting on the porch with a woman that had a huge stomach.
The boy looked healthy, and had the brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen, and the large woman had a scarf to match. Most people in the village had dark brown eyes, but his were completely foreign to me. He didn’t even look like he was trying to get up as he saw all of the other people leave the village. I didn’t think much about it at the time, so I just decided to go with the others to gather water. Everything after that was fine, everyone had enough water and there didn’t seem to be any problems until the amount of water started to dwindle lower and lower. No problem though, we would just get more water from the river… Or so we thought.
The wind seemed to be picking up, and was the only time that the weather at least tolerable to go play. My friends and I all planned to go to the outskirts of the village and meet up there, however as I was heading out I spotted the boy wandering door to door. His face looked sunken, and he looked skinnier than the last time I saw him.
“Please sir, do you have water to spare?” I heard the boy’s voice whispered; his voice was so soft I had to strain my ears just to hear it from a few metres away. I looked up to whom he was talking to; it was my uncle from across the street, he was always the generous type, but something happened that I didn’t expect from my uncle. He just slammed the door on the small boy’s face without even a hint of hesitation.
I was surprised; my uncle was always the one to think of others before him. I remembered him stopping to help a drunken man on the street once, even though he strongly condoned drinking. This seemed very out of character for him to do, but I was soon snapped out my thoughts when I saw the boy began to hobble away to the next house, and being rejected there as well. I knew that woman too; she would always give me mangoes every time I helped clear out the weeds from her crops, and then the next house didn’t even open the door for the boy even though I saw them walk towards the window to see who it was.
This type of behaviour was strange for me to see at the time, and I didn’t know why everyone was shunning away this boy. At first I thought it was because they had just recently moved in, or maybe it’s the fact that the village saw the man of the house leave and never come back, but as I headed towards my uncle’s house I soon got my answer.
“The boy is so lazy, Raja!” My uncle said to me.
“Didn’t you see him when we were gathering water? He didn’t even try to get up from his seat! Everyone was working hard to help the village, and all the boy did was watch.” I did remember seeing the boy sitting, but hearing the information back from my uncle made me furious at the boy. It was true, we were doing all the work and the boy was taking all the profit.
“As you can see, the boy can walk perfectly by himself. So, I don’t see the reason in helping him if he could easily fetch the water himself. I blame that woman, she probably made her husband so mad from her laziness that he couldn’t handle it anymore!” He then began to laugh to himself, but I didn’t get the joke.
I told the uncle goodbye, and turned to walk towards the outskirts of town to meet my friends until…
THUMP!
The noise made me turn my head, and look back to see the dehydrated boy on the ground. It looked like he collapsed on the floor, but as I saw his fingers twitch and his body began to move, I looked away thinking that he probably would help himself up, and headed on my way towards my friends, not wanting to waste a windy day like this.
The next day, there was rain like no tomorrow; I’ve never seen so much rain, so much that I thought that it would definitely flood the whole village. I couldn’t sleep at all during the night, and just thought I would wait out the night. I noticed my mother didn’t close the shutters, so the whole floor was soaked with rainwater, and I quickly tried to close it to avoid further damage until I heard a noise:
“HELP! MY SON! WHERE’S MY SON?”
It was the fat woman that was with the boy last time. Except, the woman’s stomach was smaller than before and she carried a bundle in her arms, trying to protect it from the rain. Why she brought a baby out in the rain? I didn’t know, but she was shouting out in the rain looking, trudging through deep mud, and ruining her sharwal in the process. The rain screamed louder, and nobody seemed to hear her… Nobody could hear except me. I look back at this moment, Anaya, and I deeply it regret it ever since, but I decided to close the blinds and pretend I never saw anything.
In the morning, I found the result of my consequences. The young boy was buried under the deep mud, collapsed from supposedly dehydration, and his signature green eyes were now closed permanently. I found out that he wasn’t unable to get up or walk properly because of the pain he would get in his joints that a doctor here in the urban cities would call juvenile idiopathic arthritis. The village doctors didn’t know how he had passed away, but the most popular option was from either drowning or from dehydration. The doctor had reported that the boy had mud trapped in his throat, but said that was the only sort of liquid that had been in his stomach for days. When the village quickly found out, it was like the world went silent. The village tried their best to help with the mother’s grief, getting her and the child water, food, money, and clothes, but they knew that nothing could replace this mother’s son, or this new-born’s older brother. After the mother had enough money, she moved with her child who was now a toddler out of the village, and we never saw them again, but I still remember what I did. After the broken family had left, I visited the abandoned house and all that was left was the green scarf that I saw the woman wear on the floor.
I want you to remember too, Anaya. Keep that scarf and remember that even though knowledge is a wealth no one can steal…
Kindness is a gift everyone can give.
Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Lotus. Up until this story she was a perfectly normal girl. She lived with her father, brother, and her dog, Rosie. She loved playing with her younger brother and Rosie, no matter the weather. She was intelligent, and always got straight A’s. ”I’m so proud of you!” her mom would say.
One fateful night, she went walking outside. ”Come back soon!” her father had said. “I wonder what my family is doing right now.” Lotus wondered, even though she knew her father, brother and Rosie were either sleeping or having dinner and talking, as the three of them always do at each family dinner. Whether it was a TV dinner or a normal dinner, they always talked together. Lotus was thinking about the days before her friends moved, because their parents got new jobs. Before her mom got sick and... She was lost in thought when suddenly, just as she turned around to head back home there was a bright flash. It was a shooting star! Then she realized it was falling straight toward the earth! She was frozen with shock. She braced herself for the impact. And when she thought it was about to hit her, it started getting… slower? It landed softly in front of her. She tread through the soft grass. Pad, pad, pad. She then realized it was a small spaceship. Inside was a small star.
“Can you help me?” it said in a small, weak voice. Its voice was muffled, which made it even harder to understand. “My mama is coming on a comet to get me. She didn’t, so I decided to look for her. My ship ran out of energy, it fell down, and now I only have the moon, my friends, and you to help. And who knows where the rest of the Stars are now.” the star concluded. ”Please let me out of here.” Lotus unlocked, then opened the door of the spaceship. It let out a “phew” and then told Lotus its name was Star. “Easy to remember.” Lotus said. Then she remembered. “Stay here.” Lotus disappeared. “Wait!” Star called after her. “Don’t leave me here...” Then, as quickly as she left, Lotus came back with some tools and her father’s telescope.
“We can look through my father’s telescope and see if we can see your…” She grew uncomfortable. Ever since her mom passed away, she had always been a bit dejected, like she had a hollowness in her chest, slowly growing. “What’s wrong?” Star asked. “Nothing.” Lotus said. Star could sense that something was amiss. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.” He looked kind of hurt. “Don’t be sad. It’s okay.” Lotus said quickly. “It must be hard for you.” Star said quietly. Then Lotus looked through the telescope. Minutes passed. Then hours. Then days. Then weeks. “I don’t think your…” Her voice faltered. “Mom?” Star said. “Right. I don’t think she is coming.” “But we can look for her.” she said quickly after seeing the saddened expression on Star’s face. “We can fix your spaceship up. Nothing we can’t do. Why do you think I brought these tools?” “To fight off monsters?” Star asked innocently. Lotus tried to hold in her giggles, but she couldn’t. Soon Star joined in. “Just kidding. Let’s start.”
Lotus and Star fixed up the spaceship in no time, largely because Star knew how to fix his spaceship. “I’ve crashed it many times!” he said. “Could you bring me a shovel?” Star asked. Lotus looked at her friend with a quizzical look on her face. “Why?” she asked. “You’ll see.” Star dismissively said. “Okay… I was going to go get some things anyway.” She was gone in a jiffy. She soon returned with a bag and Rosie. “Inside here is my bear plushie, some tea bags, warm water, bread, butter, strawberry jam, peanut butter, and some books to keep us entertained. Oh, and that shovel you wanted. All the bare necessities.” she said. Star nodded. “Well, let’s start this adventure.” Lotus said. They got in, closed the door, locked it, then looked at each other. “We will begin take off...NOW!” they both said playfully. “Ruff!” Rosie barked.
Soon they came to a comet. “Let’s stop here.” Star said. “Why? The energy is not out yet.” Lotus said. “The food source is almost out though.” Lotus thought out loud. “What was that?” a muffled voice said. She turned around and saw Star holding a half eaten sandwich. Lotus tried to hold in her laugh. “So that’s where all the food was going!” Lotus thought. “Come with me.” Star said in a voice not so muffled anymore. ”Oh yeah, and bring the shovel.” Lotus unlocked the door, Star opened it and they stepped out. He started going around, not unlike a metal detector. Then, he stopped and said, ”Shovel.” and waved his hand. Lotus threw the shovel and Star caught it. He then started digging a hole. “Come here.” Star said suddenly. Lotus came over. “Wow!” she said. There were sparkling things that looked like stars and moons. “These are Star Candies. The ones that look like moons are Moon Candies.” Star said. “It is my specialty finding these.” “Well,” began Lotus. Then there was a noise. GGRUUUUUUUUMBLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEE!!!!! “That’s me.” Lotus said. “More like your stomach.” They both laughed. “I’m hungry, but I’m sure you can tell. Let’s have some Star Candy and a cup of tea. And that’s what they did. “Whew. I’m tired.” Lotus said. “I think I’ll take a nap.”
That night Lotus had a dream. She dreamt that she was with her mom. “Mama,” Lotus said in her dream. “What if you leave me?” “Oh,” her mom began. “I will never leave you, my sweet pumpkin pie. I am everywhere, In the hill, in the trees, but most of all, in your heart. Then her dream changed. She dreamt her dad died, her brother left behind. Tears shone in his eyes. ”I miss Lotus.” he had said. Lotus could not stand it any more. She woke up, crying. “I miss my family!” she yelled. Rosie started howling. “I miss my dad. I miss my brother. But most of all, I miss my mom!” “Mama, oh mama. Waaaa!” Star cried. Lotus sniffed. “Everything will be alright.” Lotus said. “Let’s keep moving on.”
The trip to the next stop was quiet. Lotus was hugging her bear plushie. Then they came to an apricot colored planet. “Are there any Star Candies here?” Lotus asked. “I don’t think so.” Star said. Then a small voice came from, the planet. “Could it be…” “Mama!” Star yelled. “Mama! Mama! Mama!” Then a small figure that looked like Star popped out of the planet. “Mama?” it said to Lotus. “Mama! Mama! Mama!” Then another star popped out. Then another. “Mama! Mama! Mama!” they all said. “What am I going to do with all these children?” Lotus said. Then she started laughing uncontrollably. All the Stars looked at her blankly. “Alright then, we need to build a house for all of us to live in.” Lotus said. So they did. Lotus and the Stars built a house for all of them to live in. “Now, let’s name all of you.” she said. After naming all of them, she said, “Whew. I’m tired.”
As she fell asleep, she saw a woman wearing a crown and a flowing dress standing outside, drinking in the moonlight. Suddenly, a large lotus plant fell from the sky. Inside was a small infant. As she picked it up she said, “I will name it Lotus.” The infant smiled. Then her dream changed. She was floating in nothingness. A strange looking lady appeared. She beckoned to Lotus. “You are a princess now.” she said. “Me?” Lotus asked. “Yes.” the lady said. “You are a princess, and all your subjects respect you.” “Do you mean the Stars?” Lotus asked. “Yes. And all the Stars in the universe, even transformed ones, are your subjects.” the lady said. “Transformed?” Lotus asked. But the lady ignored her. “Let me tell you a story. Long ago, the Stars had a princess, who was found by a Star just like you. She was not a princess pure of heart, so she tried to make the Stars her servants. They were prepared, so soon after, she was overthrown.” “The Star who found that evil princess was Star’s ancestor.” “When you found Star, that was part of a plan.” “A plan?” Lotus asked, clearly confused. “Yes. A Star Princess Plan, as they called it. Well, Star was hesitant to go, but once you offered him help, he was sure you were the one.” Then her dream ended.
A few months later....
Princess Lotus was exploring space. This spaceship is getting slower. she thought. Will it crash? she quickly thought. Then, at that moment...a Star showed up. “Do you have some Star Candies with you?” it asked. “I have ten more in my spaceship.” Princess Lotus answered. “Perfect!” it chimed. So she threw the Star Candies to the Star. Then, she saw a blinding flash. In the Star’s place was a big comet. “We will all transform one day. We will transform into comets, planets, and special Stars can even transform into galaxies. We can transform by eating Star Candies, like me, or by old age.” the comet concluded. “The point is, you can move faster!” the comet said. Princess Lotus was pleasantly surprised.
When she returned home, it was already nighttime. The next day, she said, “A new Star is coming. Let’s bake a cake for it, and put Star candies in it, so it will be a Star cake.” All the Stars excitedly got the ingredients for the Star cake. While they frantically moved around, Princess Lotus lovingly thought, I am proud of all the Stars. I love them all equally. And when they transform, I will watch them proudly, like a mother bird watching her chicks fly out of the nest and into the world. And to remind myself of my own home, every year, on my birthday, I will visit my own planet. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I was going to live in space.
The End
It was around 5’oclock on an autumn afternoon in London. The sky was mottled with shades of orange and the wind whispered as the leaves fell from the few trees that remained alive. The sound of the constant stamping of feet on the pavement continued for the rush hour had begun. Kashaf tactically rushed through the herds of people trying to reach her destination in time.
Kashaf was extremely short at the height of 5 feet, she blamed her family’s genetics on that. Her lengthy raven hair bouncing side to side, as her large hazel doe eyes searched the signs for direction. She felt the cold chills creep up her arms as well as the sweat sliding down her nose. Finally, after a long 20 min jog, she had managed to rush through the doors of the hospital, seeking the receptionist. Kashaf signed in at the reception desk and proceeded through the short, simplistic halls of the familiar section of the hospital. She made a quick right into the darkroom and took a deep breath.
“Kashu? Jaan, is that you?” Her grandfather's faint voice spread throughout the room.
“Gee dada main hoon, aaj aap ka din kaisa raha?” she replied: yes grandpa it’s me, how was your day?
“It was quite dull, but it’s much brighter now that you are here mere jaan.”
Kashaf smiled feeling her heart warm. She pulled a chair from the front of the room and sat down next to her grandpa, carefully holding his hand in her palm. She gazed over the various tubes her dada was connected to, she then examined his face. It was tired and worn out, his eyes lay resting in his head and his lips were pale but almost unused. He was, of course, old, but it seemed as if he had a couple of minor scars on his face that seemed to have faded through the course of time. She had noticed the marks before but had never cared enough to ask. His eyes were closed now. Resting.
“Dada?”
“Hm?”
“Why have you always been so quiet? You’ve never said much.”
“I’ve never needed to my jaan. Life is very simple to me, so are my words.”
“I don’t understand,” Kashaf sighed.
With the little energy he had, her dad smiled at her and gently spoke.
“You don’t need to understand mere jaan, you have a long life ahead of you. You will learn through time. For now, just remember to be kind. Always be kind.”
“Remember what I used to say when you were younger?” He asked.
“Hamesha meharban aur shukar guzaar bano,” she recited from memory: always be kind and grateful.
“Never forget those two things jaan, kindness is always rewarded. Gratitude reminds you that everything is a gift.” He said softly.
“Gee dada, I’ll always remember. Dada, I have to go but baba is coming to see you in 20 minutes. I will see you tomorrow inshallah.”
Kashaf put his hand down on the hospital bed and leaned to kiss her grandfather's forehead.
“Khudafiz dada, I love you,” she said.
“Khudafiz mere jaan, I love you too,” he replied.
She picked up her bag and fled the room. Kashaf’s grandfather had been battling cancer for a while now. It had been painful to watch someone you deem so strong turn into the weakest version of themselves. The worst things do happen to the best of people. There had been a time where it seemed as if he was getting better. However, that changed. Her eyes watered remembering her father’s words to her.
“He only has a few days left kashu, make sure to spend every day with him. We never want him to feel lonely, he is to always feel loved,” her baba had stated.
Love was an understatement in describing how she felt towards her dada. He was truly the best human being she knew. Her grandfather had been the one who had taught her the alphabet when she was much younger, spending hours just watching her try to complete the alphabet jigsaw puzzle. It is scary how time passes.
As she walked across the busy streets of London, Kashaf thought about her grandpa’s demeanor. If there was one word to describe him it was: quiet. Her dad had never been the loudest in the room, if anything he was the one with the ghost of a smile who sat at the back, sinking into the walls. Her father beyond loved her grandfather, not only did his constant actions portray that, but also his constant praises of love. Her grandfather had immigrated to England from India a long time ago, some time near the partition of India and Pakistan. He had also brought his bride, her grandmother to England too. Both built a life together, had two wonderful children, her father, and her aunt.
“It wasn’t easy, back then a simple £5 was deemed a lot of money. It didn’t help that your grandparents were a different race. They both worked extremely hard to get me to where I am, especially your grandfather. Of course, I worked hard and got the scholarships I needed, I’m proud of myself for that. However, without the excellent school, I was enrolled in because of my parents, that wouldn’t have been possible,” she recalled how her father had explained his life to her.
She also recalled asking her father the same question she’d asked her dada today.
“Baba, why is dada so quiet? All my friend's grandpas are really talkative,” Kashaf had asked as a child.
“Kashu, if you had been through what your dada has, you wouldn't feel the need to object nor talk much. You would live your life as gratefully and peacefully as you could,” her father had given her a soft smile, a kiss on the forehead and walked away.
Days had passed and Kashaf continued to visit her grandfather every day after school. They would never talk much, but they didn’t need to. The presence of the other was enough for both of them. Sometimes she would worry though if he got too quiet, so she would walk over and hold his hand to check. He would always open his eyes, give her a soft smile and whisper a light “don’t worry” to her. Kashaf would then breathe out a sigh of relief and go back to her chair to continue studying for school.
This had become a habit for a little over a week. Sadly, reality did have to hit her soon, and it did. Kashaf had been in the middle of class when the attendance office had asked her to their office with all of her stuff. At first, she was worried about her school attendance, and her palms sweat and her breath sped up. Except, it had been the call she had received that had frozen her palms and stopped her breath entirely. Kashaf’s eyes glossed over.
She thanked the attendance lady and rushed out the school door, to find her uncle Sakib (her father’s friend) waiting for her. She swiftly opened the door and sat in the front seat with him, as they drove off. No words were exchanged between the two. There wasn’t much to be said. As the car came to a stop, she thanked her uncle immensely and rushed through the doors of the dull hospital. Kashaf signed in at the reception desk and ran through the long, complex halls. As she neared the room, she stole a small glance of her aunt sobbing and her aunt’s best friend attempting to console her. Kashaf entered the room, and so did the silence. Everyone lifted their eyes to her, but her eyes were focused alone on her peaceful dada.
Her family made room for her as she dropped her bag down carelessly, and walked straight to her dada’s side. His eyes were closed, and it almost seemed like he was sleeping. Kashaf wanted to believe he was. She placed his hand in her palm, and never had it seemed so weightless. Her hand found its way to his shoulder, just as it did when she was younger. The tears running down her cheeks hadn’t made themselves clear to her until that moment. What she wouldn’t give to hear him call her jaan once more. To just sit with him. He had loved playing scrabble with her when she was a child, she hated the game considering she always lost. What she wouldn’t give to lose by him once more. He had always been a silent man, what she wouldn’t give to hear his silence once more.
It was around 5’oclock on a winter's night in London. The sky was mottled with shades of grey and the wind howled as the ice fell from the few trees that still held snow. It had been almost a month and a half since that dreaded day, and the wound still felt fresh. Kashaf lay stomach-down on her bed typing away on her MacBook when she got a notification for a new assignment. She opened the assignment and felt her body sink into the bed reading it.
“Evening everyone, as we have been discussing ancestry in class, it's only fair we discover our own ancestry. All you have to do to gain credit for this is to make a short 3 min podcast explaining a major event in the life of a grandparent. If in some cases, unfortunately, all your grandparents have passed, you may consider doing another elder in your family.” Her teacher had written.
At first, she groaned at the thought of a new assignment, then she felt like crying. The only person she wanted to explain was her grandfather. Her mother's parents had passed a long time ago, and though her grandmother was thankfully alive she still preferred to do her dada. With an idea, Kashaf sprinted out of her room, down the stairs and straight into her father’s study room.
“Baba, do you remember when I was younger and asked you about why dada was always so quiet, and you told me that if I’d been through what he had, I would feel the same way. What happened to him?” she asked as she caught her breath.
Her father stood quiet, but then he asked her to sit with him.
“Kashu, your dada was probably the strongest man I have ever known. I didn't find out about this until later on in my own life, but your dada had lived in a concentration camp for a few months before the official partition of India and Pakistan. He didn’t explain any more than that, and I didn't push him. Mashallah, me and you are educated and aware enough to know what that camp must have been like. For any human to live through it is inhumane.”
Kashaf’s baba took a deep breath and continued.
“Your dada was a quiet man for most of his life because when you have seen the worst and lived through the worst. A lot of the issues we deem major become minor, and that's how he felt. Compared to the time in that camp, this life must have been beautiful, which is why he has always remained grateful but mostly kind. He passed those qualities into me, and both he and I made sure to instill those qualities into you.”
“Hamesha meharban aur shukar guzaar bano,” she said as she smiled.
“Hamesha meharban aur shukar guzaar bano indeed,” he replied with a similar smile.
Though Kashaf did not know the details behind her dada’s personal feelings of the concentration camp, the knowledge of the event itself was enough for her. She thanked her father and sprinted upstairs. She opened a google doc for her script and titled it: “Mere Jaan.”
Urdu words translation:
Jaan: in the context used it means sweetheart- but may also mean “life”
Mere jaan: in the context used it means my sweetheart- but may also mean “my life”
Dada: father’s father (grandfather)
Baba: father
Gee: yes - in a respectful manner
Mashallah: expresses appreciation, joy, praise, or thankfulness for an event or person that was just mentioned.
Inshallah: “if god wills” or “if god wishes”
Khudafiz: literal translation is “May god be your guardian” but commonly used as goodbye