It Started on a Monday

It started on a Monday- the series of events that changed my life. I always hated Mondays…breaking the bliss of a wonderful weekend! So I guess it was fate that this happened on a Monday.

I was driving to work pondering over something someone had said to me, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. I’d just reached a traffic signal and was about to turn right when the car in front of me suddenly exploded. I just sat there in shock for a minute. There were flames all around. I heard some screams in the distance and then there were sirens- screaming, insistent sirens. They just went on and on and on...I wanted to scream at them to shut up but I couldn't…I just sat there, as if paralyzed. I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder and then there was blackness.

I opened my eyes in a white room. Everything was white, the curtains, the wall paint, the bed I was lying on, everything. It was like a scene right out of a movie. I must be dreaming I thought. Everything was just so unreal!

Then it all came flooding to me, the blast, the flames, the noise. I figured I must be in a hospital. But, honestly, I’d never actually seen a white room! Maybe I’d died and gone to heaven. Though, with my life I could’ve sworn I should be in hell!

I couldn't do much but wait. So, I waited…in that white, silent room. That was the other thing that was getting to me...the quietness, the complete silence.

I tried getting up once. The searing pain through my entire body had me falling back in no time. I didn’t dare to attempt it again.

After what seemed like hours to me, a door at the end of the room opened. A lady entered, dressed in a powder blue nurse’s uniform...that small hint of color made me want to shout in joy! But then I noticed her face. It was completely covered with some kind of mask and I could hardly make out her eyes. She was carrying a medicine tray in her gloved hands .

As she walked towards me slowly, tentatively, it started to worry me. I realized something must be terribly wrong for a nurse to behave like this. As she came closer, her eyes widened with the realization that I was awake. She almost jumped, kept the tray on a table next to me, and ran to get a doctor.

In less than a minute, a doctor arrived. She too had her face covered. But, thankfully, she didn’t seem afraid of me. She came towards me and smiled. The smile had relief, sympathy, concern, and a number of other emotions I couldn’t quite understand. But, the one thing I knew was that it had to be bad news.

I opened my mouth to ask her what was wrong and realized to my horror that I couldn’t speak! I tried again but no voice came out. I tried raising my hand and the same searing pain shot through me. The doctor placed her gloved hand on me and explained everything.

The car explosion at the signal had been a bomb blast. 100 people had been killed. It was a miracle that I was alive. They’d found me 100 meters away from the site. It seemed that I had been thrown away by the impact. My car had been destroyed completely. I had been in a coma for almost a month.

And then came an even bitter truth. I had almost 80 percent burns on my body. My skin was charred. I couldn’t speak because my mouth, my tongue, and my throat were all burnt. Now, I understood why the nurse was hesitant in approaching me...I must look horrendous. I was being kept in a sterile, isolated room to prevent any infection from spreading. That explained the white I guess.

The doctor examined me and seemed satisfied. She said she expected a fast recovery and assured me that with skin grafting and other modern techniques, they’ll have me looking as good as new in a year’s time. A year is a long time I thought and saw all my dreams coming crashing down.

I saw all the money I’d saved for my boutique going into the treatment. My mom would have to continue working instead of taking the early retirement we’d planned. We’d have to delay buying the dream home we’d finally found. It had been my father’s dream, my boutique and the home. He’d passed away last year. We’d managed to get a grip on our lives and move on.

But, now it looked like an even greater struggle had begun. I began to wonder if it would’ve been better if I’d died in the blast instead of surviving like this, if I’d been in the car instead of being thrown out of death’s way. That’s when it came back to me- the blast. I remembered the explosion, the blinding flash of light, heat, and sound. I didn’t remember being blown away…I remembered the hand on my shoulder, someone leading me away from the car as the flames came closer and the sirens grew louder, before complete blackness descended. I’d heard about guardian angels, could it have been an angel then who saved me? The hand had felt familiar…like one I’d known all my life...could it have been him? Ensuring that I live on to fulfill his dreams?

The doctor was still at my bedside. I looked at the calendar on the opposite wall and tried to ask her with my eyes what date it was. She understood and said January 4th. I looked at the calendar. It was a Monday. The day my new life began.