A Girl Named "Hope"

By Oldsoul Writer- Niharika Dev

The truth is that each one of us possesses the power to become the best version of ourselves we are meant to be. Life is a roller coaster indeed but we “supreme beings” - yeah, that’s what I like to call our race, have the ability to transcend ourselves in a state of eternal happiness. 

Now, you might be wondering, “oh! What an awfully optimistic person she is! She hasn’t experienced the hardships of life“. Well, know that I wasn’t like that always. Conversely, I was the most hopeless person you will ever encounter in your life. But, one day everything changed. Hannah Margaret realised her true potential at last. Hannah? Yeah, That’s me! 

So the story goes back to March 15, 1987. It was all dark and I was hiding behind the closet, afraid and panting. They had shot my brother already and I didn’t know where my mom was. I did not know what the goons wanted but from what I heard, I could only make out that my dad borrowed a lump of money from them and ran away. 

Some light was entering through the sliding pane of the cupboard. I could easily see through the keyhole. What I saw that day stuck with me for a long long time. Broken window pane, the pink bedsheet torn, the mattress turned upside down and my brother’s body lying bare on the cracked floor. “Horrible, cruel and barbarous!” This voice echoed in my mind as a dusky man entered with a gun. 

I knew he was looking for me so I covered my mouth with my hands to reduce the sound of my breath. 

He walked all over the room and suddenly, his steps turned towards the closet. I still remember how difficult it was for me to not scream at that moment. However, as he was about to turn the handle, a voice in the distance called him and he went away. As soon as the goons left, I ran. I ran for my life. I didn’t stop even when I knew no one was chasing me. Finally, I stopped at the church and cried my heart out. 

I had nothing left. No father, no mother, no siblings and no place to call home! Fifteen years passed by in a fraction of a second and I became a young lady who had no control over her life. I was living in a rented apartment, paying more medical bills than mundane ones. I was working as a journalist though I didn’t have any interest in journalism. I chose this profession only because firstly, I didn’t know what I wanted to do and secondly, my therapist asked me to choose a profession that involved meeting new people. And so I did. 

Honestly, if you ask me, the therapy didn’t help. It didn’t. After all these years, the bad dreams still left me awake at night. I was afraid of forming relationships. Everyone knew me as the weird and gloomy person in the town. Yes, that’s what the kids used to call me, “hey, weirdo”! But all this didn’t matter as my depression didn’t spare me much time to think about all this. 

June 28, 2003. I was standing at the edge of the river to end these 25 tormenting years of my life. I was tired. Not physically but mentally. I was fed up with my job and I had no one to call my own. While standing there, I envisioned the faces of my loved ones for one last time. A tear rolled over my cheeks and as I was about to jump, someone grabbed me by my arm and pushed me back. 

Samantha Christie! A woman in her early sixties stopped me from escaping this eternal damnation and said, “ what do you think you are doing girl? Are you out of your mind?” “Just let me go”, I added. 

I felt frustrated and tried to free myself. But she was sturdy enough to pull me out of

there and took me to her house in London. 

Ironically, she was quite generous to offer me some herbal tea to calm my soul. “What’s the matter, Sweety? Why are you willing to give up on your life?” She asked. All the memories came to me in a flashback and I started sobbing. I haven’t cried in the last 10 years and it felt liberating, for sure. She listened to my story keenly and ruminated for a minute into self-reflection. She said, “ you are a brave girl Hannah. And all you lack is faith.” “Faith!” I exclaimed. All these years I have heard several tales of faith from my therapist but none of them could change my perception. I didn’t believe in God and I was tired of hearing the word “faith” again and again.

As I sipped the tea, all I thought was “why is this lady after me? I don’t want to stay here. When will she let me go?” But then she asked a question that marked the turning point of my life. She diligently asked, “ do you really want to die my dear” or “you just want to end the pain?” 

This question left me dumbstruck and I couldn’t answer it. “That’s the point of all this my child.” “ All of us are tired, tired of living a life with a void in our hearts. We breathe but we forget to live!” I could see her eyes glimmering with tears as she said, “but life goes on. People leave, the memories fade away, the pain does nothing but grow. And yet we still live. We live because this is what life is all about”. I quietly listened to her as she explained the purpose of life and this time I was actually listening. I could even understand the pauses she took within these syllables. 

June 28, 2004. (The present-day) 

I am still sitting beside the river but this time I have no intention of ending my life. I am here just to enjoy the beauty of nature. To look at the purple-pink sky leaves shedding from the trees and water beneath my feet. I am happy! I am genuinely happy! Do you want to know why? Because I have the most beautiful gift of God with me. And that’s me! 

A year ago, when I was having a chat with Mrs Samantha, her questions stir something deep within my soul. I realised that I didn’t really want to die. I wanted to live and I wanted to live a happy life. But I didn’t know how. All my life I had lived in misery so I had no idea what happiness feels like. So, I asked her for help. She was kind enough to share her share of stories of hardships and struggles with me. Her husband was a general in the army, who died just a year after their marriage and their child, Martin died of cancer at the age of 10. Samantha lived alone and decided to never get married again. She was indeed the epitome of courage and strength. 

After reiterating her life story, she gave me a necklace. It wasn’t a normal jewellery piece, she remarked. It was given to Samantha by her grandmother, who got it from her grandmother and so on. So this necklace was an heirloom that brought good luck, according to her. It brings fortune and happiness despite the hardships of life and it gave her strength all her life. She gifted that necklace to me but with a warning, “for the magic to work, you must never doubt the power of this necklace. Believe and you shall receive”. 

Her words seemed like a spell and I genuinely felt that I have got the solution to all my problems. Subsequently, I tied the beautiful gold chain with a heart-shaped locket around my neck. I wished for everything good and the chain really did wonders. Over time, I fell in love with a beautiful soul, Mark Augustus. We met through a colleague of mine, at her birthday party and it was love at first sight. As we moved in together, he helped me realise what my passion was and helped me join The Academy of Visual Arts. 

Everything was great! Great, at last! It was so good that I never took the necklace off my neck. I was forever grateful to the lady and the power of the locket. I remember that she also asked me to not open the locket as it hid the picture of “The Goddess of Hope” in it. I hadn’t opened it till that day but now I was curious about seeing the goddess. So one fine day, I decided to open it even if the repercussions were thought to be bad.

I opened the locket and what I saw amazed me. I was feeling so overwhelmed that tears started rolling down my eyes. I realised that all these years, the Goddess was with me but I didn’t notice. It was me! Yes, it was me. There was no picture in the locket but a simple shining mirror. That day I understood the meaning of faith and hope. That day, I found myself. 

Now, as I sit by the riverside, I feel so grateful to God for making me aware of my true potential. Each one of us possesses the infinite power to change our lives. All we need is hope and faith. Today, one year after that incident, I am here to help another hurting soul like me to heal. There is a girl wearing a black dress staring at the waves, I feel she is as helpless as I was years ago and maybe, she thinks death will be a pleasant escape. However, she doesn’t know that her life is about to take a happy turn soon. Because she will soon realise that, as I like to say, “The Goddess of Hope” is with her! 

By Oldsoul Writer- Niharika Dev