Part 1

On the 21st of October 2002, like every other Monday, I caught the bus to work at 9.00am, walked the distance from the bus stop to my workplace and did my bit for the day. Later on, at about 18.00hrs, we were to have an executive meeting. Monday evenings being committed to Maashufa classes (which I was taking with my sister) from 19.00hrs onwards, I sent my apologies. Somehow or the other, I found myself tied to my desk till 17.45hrs and actually welcomed a few of my colleagues who had arrived early for the executive meeting. At about 18.10hours, I finally managed to wrestle myself away from my desk, and left for my class. Needless to say I had missed my connecting train, so I hopped on the bus to the nearest tube station: big mistake! From that point onwards, I missed every single connection, and finally arrived at about 20.30hrs. By this time, I had been on the phone with my cousin for about half an hour. She recently got married, and we were talking about the state of singleness, in particular whether it was really possible to keep the marriage bed undefiled in this day and age of instant gratification and over-stimulation of all possible senses through the media. I was adamant that it was possible –being my lived experience- and she did not quite agree with me. The discussion was not concluded, as we had to cut our conversation short when her husband arrived home from work.

I then received a call from a friend in the film business. He needed someone to build some sort of miniature set for a blow-up sequence in his movie. Luckily, I know 2(!) architecture students and immediately called them both. Knowing I had quite a full day ahead of me on Tuesday, I decided to ‘sacrifice’ my lunch break to facilitate a meeting between my architects in waiting and my movie mogul to be. This was of course based on the premise that both students would be free at that time. I was more than fashionably late, and did not bother to join my class. Instead, I made a couple of calls, and the lunch date was fixed for the next day. I ran through my tasks for the next day in my head: there were the minutes of the last mentoring meeting which I had typed up fully, well, save for the last paragraph, as I was waiting for THAT inspiration on how to end it, and the usual meetings with clients. Not such a hectic day after all, just a regular day in the life of an upbeat young woman like me. I must tell you, I LOVED my job. I really did. I love being useful to others, I love seeing people succeed, and I sure love to help people solve whatever problems they might be facing. My reward at the end of each day, is the knowledge that someone had a problem LESS at the end of that day, because I was able to be there for them. There is nothing more fulfilling than that. I believe that THAT is what I was placed here for – to BRING JOY to everyone I encounter.

The classes ended, my sister came out, and together with a couple of friends and classmates going the same way, we made our way home. This must have been around 22:00hrs. The walk to the train station from our venue was a long one, and the wait for the train almost as long. The ride from the train station to the tube station was not as long, and we laughed and joked with friends all the way. As we came out of the tube station at Walthamstow Central holding hands – I don’t know why, but when walking with my sister, I always tend to link hands with her. It may be leftover from childhood days, when her arms and legs were considerably shorter than mine, and the only way to guarantee she keeps up, is to hold her close... Funny thing is that we are now about the same height, and her legs are definitely longer than mine, but I just can’t help reaching out and holding hands when walking side by side- we saw the bus that would take us right up to our doorstep. All I could think of was ‘RUN! For the bus’!!! In about half an hour, we would be home; I would have my hot beverage and sleep like a log till Tuesday morning. I was just so happy that the bus had arrived on time. My sister was probably thinking similar thoughts, and we both headed for the bus, still holding hands. The traffic light was indicating red, so we had to –impatiently, I must say- wait with other pedestrians for the lights to change. As soon as it did, in that same split second we attempted to dash off to the bus, my sister let go of my hand, I in turn held on tight to my backpack and gathered all my strength, to launch a race for that bus…

Next thing, I heard a crunching sound, though I was not quite sure we it had come from. Then I heard a screeching sound, like that of a car, and felt a slight headache coming on. I felt like I had just been spun around, and I felt a blunt object being shoved into my back area, I actually heard the contact between my back area and the object, like I had been shoved slightly, and could not quite make out why I was not on the bus yet. I then heard my sister scream my name, and the screeching sound slowly subsided, as if moving further away from me.