by Sneha Bhatt (072BCE) (Pulchowk Campus)
One, two, three……. seven, eight. Eight paper cranes of different colors lay on the table, carefully placed aside. Blue, red, light pink, yellow; they looked as if life had been bestowed upon them and all they needed was a gentle push- and they could claim the whole sky. Aastha was working on her ninth crane, this one also out of blue paper. Since few weeks, this had been a routine for her- making as many paper cranes as she could. This way her eleven-year old mind was convinced, that she could save her brother’s life.
Her brother Suyog, was twenty. A typical teenager-turned-adult, he was highly ambitious, had dreams Aastha couldn’t even understand. He studied psychology, a word she couldn’t spell, but he had told her it was related to mind.
‘Brother, if the P in psychology is silent, can I too add a P in front of my name?’ she had once asked.
His reaction, was to laugh like a maniac. Since that day, he
had started calling her Paastha, and then settled for Pasta.
Last winter, Suyog had caught a Jaundice. It had started off as a light fever
and some itchiness, which he had initially brushed it off. Then it got worse.
It had been almost 4 months, he wasn’t showing any signs of recuperating.
Aastha felt lonely without him. Both her parents had jobs, so she used to spend
most of her time at home with her brother. He would sometimes bring her
chocolates out of his pocket money, or dvds of her favorite cartoon. At times
when mother and father were late, he’d cook noodles for her. It was always
noodles he made, probably because that’s all he knew. He could be really
annoying at times, though. Taking advantage of Aastha’s gullible nature and
childlike innocence, he’d play lots of pranks on her, scare her with stories of
ghosts and ghouls. But all in all, she had dreaded the prospect of being
without him.
‘Mamu, is Suyog going to die?’, she had once asked when they were visiting
Suyog at the hospital.
‘No chori, he’s going to be fine.’
‘Will he be able to play badminton with me once he comes home?’
‘Of course dear. And we’ll make him his favorite mo:mos. Will you help me?’,
her mother had said, wiping Aastha’s tears.
‘Of course…… Um, Mamu?’
‘Yes dear.’
‘I don’t want him to die.’
Then there was silence.
As much relieved she wanted to be upon hearing her mother’s words, she couldn’t
put herself at peace, because shortly after, she’d heard her mother and the
doctor conversing in hushed tones.
The doctor had said something about hepatic hyper-something. Not that she
understood, but judging her mother’s expression, she could tell it was
something horrible.
Why did these grownups have to use such difficult words for
everything?
Was Suyog really going to die?
One day in school, her best friend had told her about the myth of a thousand
cranes.
‘If you make a thousand
paper cranes, your wish can come true’, she had said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Upon hearing this,
Aastha had wanted to try this out. There was nothing in this world she
wanted more than her brother’s recovery, surely she could save him.
So, she set on her big mission. Like a baker who had just learnt a new recipe,
Aastha invested all of her time and energy into the one thing she really,
really cared about at the moment- nothing else mattered.
She had started saving her pocket money for origami papers and learnt how to make them from her best friend. It wasn’t easy at first, the cranes she made were clumsy, some with blunt edges. She’d throw away almost half the cranes she made. With the passing days and a lot of practice, the amount of clumsy cranes started decreasing; about 10 at first, then 8, then 5, 2, 1, 2, 1, 1, until she every crane she made was perfect.
By now, she had made 257 cranes, still a long way to go. Today morning, she made eleven. The same number as her age. Fear and anxiety had started gripping her from the inside- there wasn’t much time. At this rate, she couldn’t make more than 500 cranes. Now she wished she had let her best friend help her.
With each passing day, she was growing more and more anxious.
Her cranes now amounted up to 477 in total. She had been almost sure her brother wouldn’t live. It had been days since had visited him in the hospital, she couldn’t gather her courage to see his face.
‘Don’t you worry Pasta, I’m not done troubling you yet. Just let me get out of this hospital, then I’ll take you to the fun park. We’ll have lots of fun there, and I’ll even buy you an ice cream. Now, there, there, don’t cry idiot, I’ll be fine in no time, I promise.’
She could make about 20 cranes in a day now, but that was still not enough. She had started making them during class too.
Then one day, both her parents had gone to the hospital early. It appeared to be an emergency. Now, Aastha was sure Suyog was going to die. If only she had been able to make a thousand paper cranes or she hadn’t been clumsy in the beginning! It was all her fault that he would die.
She didn’t feel like making cranes today, only felt like crying out loud.
When her parents came home from hospital, they were horrified to see their daughter’s condition. Mother went to hug her and console her that everything was going to be okay. But Aastha would hear none of it, only said something between her sobs, barely audible.
‘I tried mamu…….not enough cranes….promised me……..’
‘Chori what happened? Calm down and tell me.’
‘I wanted to make a thousand cranes so that Suyog could be okay. But I made only these many, and these aren’t enough. It’s all my fault Mamu. Now I don’t have to make them anymore- he’s not coming, is he?’
Taking a moment to marvel at her daughter’s innocence, her mother hugged her and finally said, ‘These cranes are beautiful dear, your brother will love them. One thing you’re right about, you won’t have to make them anymore. The doctor called us in the early morning and told us we could bring him home in a few days.’
Sneha Bhatt
072BCE
Pulchowk Campus
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