The Lost and What Was Found

The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?

The clear breeze that I could not feel but I could see, the smell of the gateways closing, the rush of checking in on time, and having to fit so much in little suitcases. As a young girl, that was my story every year, an adventurous trip from one country to another- sitting in the airplane, looking at my father laugh as we said “Huff, we made it”. This was my childhood and my growth, always looking for new experience in different places at a fast pace to catch up to life. Who would have known that one day it would all be a broken road to walk on alone.

I remember looking out the window from the Dubai airport, tear filled eyes with flashbacks of all the times that my dad’s hands were in mine, his protectiveness still embodies me. Silently I let the pain surrender to reality; I looked towards my brother and my mother. realizing the responsibility at hand- forgetting that emotions existed, my thoughts were like a rabbit in an unknown forest. All I knew were cliched statements reminding me that strength comes from within and being lonesome can lead to great explorations.

Ambitious, strong-willed, the persistent dreamer- when I looked at my reflection on that window, that was the person I saw, because this scar bearing skin and this face that did not forget how to smile, was who I was and who I would always be. Always accelerating towards change and resilient to the evil the world holds, could this beast I had always called myself ever become a puppy when it crossed a road in thunder alone? No, I could not relinquish all my efforts due to a mere tragedy- one that could have encountered anyone, yet would affect everyone differently.

My trip back to my homeland marked the story I wish I did not have to recount. A failure that words would not describe, the loss of love and the loss of self. When a parent commits suicide there are a lot of questions unrequited; phrases, things, and any movement becomes a repetitive presentation of what might have been the reason behind such action. It was as if my life had paused and could not rewind. Furthermore, my subdued surroundings imprisoned me into a hollowness which- although I ran down the stair both suitcases and brother in hand- I could not escape. Words bounced back to me, every stare seemed to identify the cause of my mother’s frown, hence I had to make my muscles reciprocate those who were in service during our journey.

“I want to go there, IB is made for me. The Indian education cannot provide me with the level of knowledge that I require.” My mother’s wild eyes reminded me of the constant demands I had made to finish my schooling in a different land. But I could not blame myself, I was walking back to where it all began; I could not simply give up or stop believing in all the goals I had.

During my flight, it was as if I was meeting myself through the silent screams of my brother and the loud stares of my mother, like evidence to what I could be. However, I thought practically, I could stay eyes wet and hair unwashed. Or I could give power to the education and nurture that had become part of me under the shadow of my father.

This situation gave birth to the person I am today, who works with people undergoing what my father might have undergone. Today, I see the world through the eyes of those who suffer daily,and help promote a more aware world by providing my knowledge combined with those who know more in a website and through workshops, so that no daughter has to explain who she has become because of unexpected actions of loved ones.

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