The House That Caught Fire

By Aastha Gupta

When the night feels endless, too short maybe, even before the crack of dawn, all I heard were screams and chaos, throwing off the blanket and running down the stairs is all that is of my memory of that morning, slept at 4, woke up at 5, and between 5 and 10 all I saw was orange flames, fire trucks and a haze of smoke, family crying, cousin stuck up in the balcony and the sounds of glass cracking and air conditioners bursting. 

This was my morning on the 4th of July, 10 hours before a flight to my dream destination. Although I did make to Paris eventually, that day is ingrained in my brain like no other. The next 10 days I have no of memory honestly, a mess of limbs and sadness, not even a single drop of tear made it out, in this haze, my dream trip got cancelled, my dream college got cancelled, but the one thing I did not lose was the faith in my family, I knew that if I had them I will make it through anything. They stood by strong for me, a child completely relying on her parents and her family for it all, be it choosing another college for me, buying fresh clothes, choosing a house, scheduling appointments – they took care of everything. Now that I realize an year later, another crack of dawn comes through and brings happiness like no other. Compliments from strangers, comments by relatives – they make it through because everyone notices a new light. Hence, when the night feels endless and the smoke hasn’t settled, even from ashes rises a new dawn, a fresh start.

By Aastha Gupta