The 5-year-old girl blinked as she tried to look at the luminous, incandescent lamps that emitted sharp rays of light and tears oozed out from her eyes. There was absolute silence in the room except for some murmuring among masked people, skillfully handling strange metallic equipments. The girl had no idea what was actually happening until she realized that all those metallic equipments were quite deftly running all over her little body showing no mercy to her sensitive and soft skin. She did not scream, and didn’t move an inch. One long year in the hospital now got her accustomed to all of these things.
She was a boon to her parents, she loved to watch the sun rise and set. She liked to hover outside ice cream parlours and candy shops and often cried when her innocent requests for those were heartlessly denied by her mother. She loved to imagine herself as Cinderella and engage in ballroom dancing with her Prince Charming under a glittering chandelier. She dreamt of firmly establishing herself as an old mother, scolding her babies for no good reason and then singing lullabies to them. She too had that childish desire, like everyone of us to walk on the moon some day and maybe dance on it.
Destiny however had something else planned for her. She was four when she was caught by the icy fingers of that godforsaken disease which drained the vibrant life force out of her. She did not know the consequences of this disease. She did not know how people died. All she remembered was the last words her Father whispered into her tiny ears, ‘Destination Moon’.
-Aakashneel Dutta | Edited by Aditi Dhasmana