At the age of 13, I set out on a bold escapade to the adjacent jungle, enticed by the allure of ripe mangoes. Merely a brief 15-minute journey from my residence, the jungle teased with the prospect of delectable fruit. Upon reaching, I discovered that the easily accessible mangoes had already been taken by previous gatherers. Undaunted, I redirected my attention upward to the abundant fruit nestled among the higher branches of a tree, delicately positioned on the hill’s edge.
Gathering my resolve, I commenced my climb, resolute in my determination to seize those tempting fruits. Gradually, with each grasp and step, I inched nearer to my objective until, at last, I reached the peak. However, impatience clouded my judgment, and instead of plucking the mangoes individually, I opted for a more direct approach: breaking the branch.
Yet, as I endeavored to snap the branch, fate intervened in the guise of an unwitting ant colony. In my haste, I disrupted their abode, sending them into a frenzy that culminated in a frenzied assault upon my unsuspecting form. Eager to evade their ire, I scrambled across the branches, only to find myself treading upon a patch of decayed wood.
With a sickening lurch, I plummeted from my lofty perch, hurtling towards the ground below. But just as it seemed I would meet a painful fate, luck smiled upon me. With lightning reflexes, I managed to grasp onto a sturdy branch, halting my descent and leaving me dangling perilously on the precipice of the hillside.
In that fleeting moment, suspended between earth and sky, uncertainty enveloped me. No friendly faces nearby, no helping hands to ease my descent. The weight of responsibility pressed upon me—a life to preserve, a landing to execute. A fall would plunge me a harrowing hundred meters down onto unyielding rock. Yet, there I clung, fingers digging into the rough bark of the tree branch. My cries for aid echoed futilely into the void.
Minutes stretched like taut strings, each second a precarious balance between survival and oblivion. Should I leap, grasp another branch, risk it all? The peril was undeniable; failure meant potential death. But below, a chance—a patch of bushes, their leaves whispering promises of a softer landing.
I calculated my options, body swaying in the breeze. Momentum gathered, and with a desperate resolve, I launched myself toward the adjacent branch. Fortune, capricious as ever, favored me this time. My fingers found purchase, and I clung—just within reach of solid ground. The world steadied, and I breathed, grateful for the fragile thread that held me aloft.
As I reached the branch closer to the ground, a surge of confidence washed over me. My chances of survival had significantly improved; even a fall might result in injury, but with the reduced distance to the ground, survival seemed likely. After a brief pause, I made the decision to leap down. Unfortunately, upon impact, I collided harshly with the unforgiving ground. The force of the impact fractured one of my legs, and I found myself bleeding profusely from my knee, wounded in several other places on my body. Despite the initial relief of being closer to safety, the reality of my injuries reminded me of the perilous situation I still faced.
Tears streamed down my face as I desperately scanned the horizon, yearning for a savior to materialize from the wilderness. Yet, luck seemed to mock me once more as dark clouds amassed overhead, unleashing a tempest upon the landscape. Rain plummeted in torrents, each droplet a bitter reminder of my isolation. The wind howled like a vengeful spirit, whipping through the trees with hurricane force. Then came the hail, pelting my body mercilessly, turning my skin into a canvas of bruises. In the midst of this chaos, I found myself whispering fervent prayers, invoking the names of loved ones and deities alike. “Oh, God, please spare me,” I pleaded, but even the heavens seemed deaf to my cries. It was a battle against not only nature’s fury but also the relentless onslaught of despair.
After enduring a relentless downpour for two hours, the rain finally relented, and a glimmer of hope crept into my weary heart as I aimed to retreat to the comfort of home. However, my elation was short-lived; a sharp pain shot through my left leg, rendering me unable to walk. Summoning all my strength, I hobbled a few meters, desperate for aid. Scouring the surroundings, I managed to find a makeshift support in the form of a sturdy stick. But fate had another cruel twist in store. As I ascended the hill toward home, my grasp faltered, and the stick tumbled from my grip, vanishing into the dense jungle below.
Exhaustion washed over me, the tears drying up after seven grueling hours since the dreadful accident. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, aggravated by the setting sun casting the world into a dark, damp evening, courtesy of the heavy rain. Lice swarmed, seeking refuge in my blood. Despite my weariness, I succumbed to a fitful hour of sleep, only to awaken to the grim reality: thirteen bloodthirsty parasites had feasted on me while I slept. With darkness enveloping the landscape and the eerie echoes of wild beasts in the distance, I summoned the last of my strength to navigate the treacherous terrain, moving forward inch by agonizing inch.
As I crawled along, fully focused on my path, a sudden gunshot shattered my concentration. The hunter’s shot aimed at a wild bird echoed through the air, jolting me off balance. Plummeting five meters below, I felt as though divine judgment was testing my resolve. Nestled amidst the paddy crops for fifteen agonizing minutes, I contemplated my journey. Gathering my strength, I resumed my trek homeward, the warmth of family beckoning me forward. Upon arrival, tears flowed freely as I embraced my loved ones, grateful for their presence after such a harrowing ordeal.
Having braved a string of misfortunes—battles with ants, a tumble from a tree, and weathering a storm—the protagonist confronts the formidable task of surviving solo. Despite injuries and fatigue, I persevered, navigating through both physical and emotional trials. From this harrowing ordeal, I gleaned lessons on resilience, the capriciousness of nature, and the potency of hope in adversity. While undoubtedly one of the most challenging episodes in my life, it bestowed upon me invaluable life lessons and etched itself as an indelible memory.
-Author Dr. Malla is a Banker.
