Opportunity (Short Story)

 Fiction (Short Story)

Opportunity

         That morning, the blazing sun strokes its heat on my head and the skin. I can feel my sweat glands and pores were screaming and shouting catastrophically underneath my blue mask as though the Armageddon is approaching, “Safe us !”.  The agony of wearing a mask was unbearable, but we had no choice because we are now fighting with the deadliest pandemic called, Covid-19. I walked down the school lane at a pacely rate, trying to control the sweat secretion dewing from my forehead. Stopping at the canteen compound, I took a seat while waiting for my friend, coming out from the loo.

         From afar, I watched a young and diligent janitor was sweeping dusts and dried leaves at the hallway. Sometimes, she wiped away her sweat and glaring at the sky, waiting for the Mother Nature to blow the chill wind. Without any hesitation, I greeted the young lady. I could see her hazelnut-brown iris with smiling wrinkles gathered around her diamond shaped eyes. She is a polite and humble in person, she used “Ma’am” to address me but I sensed a gap between both of us when she used the “M’ word.  “This is not right.” I monologue to myself, so I told her to address me by my name.

Meeting her was a blissful gift from Almighty God for me. She “taught” me something precious that day. I started the interview session by asking her name and some random cliché questions. From her accent, she is not a Malaysian Indian lady; she revealed she is from Punjab, India. But, the most shocking thing that she told me was, she is 22 years old, the same age as me. I was stunned, I am standing in front of her, as a teacher; but she is as a janitor. We are the same age, but disguised and fated with different life fates. At that moment, my curiosity pounded aggressively, wanting her to share what makes her migrate to Malaysia. She said, Punjab is a small place and the unemployment rate is very high there. Many graduates struggle to find job and the only escape is to move out from Punjab. Within a second, it flashed back my trip to special needs school three years ago. A girl, with drooling saliva at her mouth edge, was waiting for the assistant teacher to hold her hand to wipe away the drools. She only could say four words repetitively and she is the same age as me.

         The more I reflect I realized all this while, I portrayed myself in ungratefulness. God showed me how much I should be grateful for the opportunity being a future teacher. There are none of the thousands reasons that I can make it as an excuse for not being acceptance and grateful. Guaranteed with a job after I graduated, with a good amount of starting salary and able to think and move independently are more than enough. All I need to have is a grateful heart to furbish my life.