A sequence of emojis. The instruction: be as creative as you want. Just make sure all emojis are used, in sequence.
All of a sudden we had a deluge (moderate, but still) of creative responses. It was hard to pick a winner for our Emoji Story Writing Competition, but after much deliberation, ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner! The title of best story writer goes to … drumroll please.. Praneshwar Eswaran of 10I.
Congratulations Praneshwar, but it would be remiss of us not to mention some other excellent contributors: Aarush Nigam, we especially loved your chilling concluding sentence; Sharanya Sanyal and Tanaaya Shekhar, that truly was a heartrending tale; Nikitha Reddy and Murtaza Udaipurwala, we loved your brief yet captivating story; Evander Edward, you certainly have a knack for storytelling; and Aadit Trivedi, we love the imagination in your storytelling. Well done, all of you. Take a bow.
And now, for the grand prize-winning story, please scroll down… (if you want to read the others, you’ll have to meet the young authors in person and place a request 🤷🏻♀️)
Optimism – by Praneshwar Eswaran
In the Hospital
“Done with life.” That was the last entry in Judith’s diary. She had walked to the middle of the road, to the lane where the vehicles moved at full speed. She was waiting for the signal on the other side to turn green, so that she as well as the drivers could reach their final destinations. The red turned green a few hundred meters away and the sound of cars speeding reached Judith’s ears. She closed her eyes and waited, knowing this was to be the last uncertainty of her life. She suddenly heard the screech of a tire and opened her eyes to see a dog in front of her, and in the blink of an eye, Judith was lying on the road, blood oozing out of her head.
“I want to tell you not to worry, but I’m afraid I can’t. We can only perform the surgery if she is awake and being awake is nobody’s choice but hers,” the doctor was telling Judith’s parents, while she was sitting on a wheelchair, blankly staring at the ceiling. “You can’t do this to us…” cried Judith’s mother, holding her daughter’s hands. “It’s her choice, ma’am. No point in crying.”
In Judith’s Head
“How stupid was that?!” exclaimed SuperEgo, who was wearing a purple cloak.
“Do you think living such a life is really worth it?” asked Id, who was wearing a brown cloak and holding a magnifying glass. Judith in the middle, was confused.
“Everyone has their bad times. Are they all doing what you did? They all have learnt to wait for a better time. They all have learnt the skill of optimism. They don’t look at their problems with a magnifying glass like you do! Then who would like to live their lives?” asked SuperEgo.
“Don’t listen to her. Do you really think what she is saying makes any sense? You have lived your life. You know yourself better,” said Id.
“I’ve heard enough from you, Id, and I have done what you had told me to do. And it’s only now that I realize how wrong I was!” declared Judith. The magnifying glass shattered and a sword was driven through Id.
In the Hospital
Judith’s mother was praying outside the surgery room. She was ecstatic about her daughter waking up but this was the real struggle. The doctor had told her that Judith’s blood type was very rare and the time it would take for the blood to come and the surgery to be done would be neck-and-neck. The mother’s prayers culminated in the arrival of the blood faster than expected and the completion of the surgery without any obstacles.
“Hope you don’t take such decisions again,” said the doctor. Judith was discharged after weeks of counselling, both physical and mental. Judith walked into her room, picked her diary up, crossed out the last entry and wrote, “Looking forward to tomorrow!”