That day was a year ago – morning rush-hour, I was
driving on the outer lane of a busy highway like a typical day, 90kph on the
meter, crooning to some random music playing on a local radio while sight still
largely focused on the road and occasionally looking at the rearview mirror to
see the cars from behind. Being a neophyte driver, I am mostly defensive so I
stay away from the highways as much as possible and the trouble careless and stupid
drivers could bring which is quite a ubiquity in Dubai. Halfway through my
destination, I heard a thundering sound from far behind and even before I could
confirm in the mirror what it was, a speeding van has slammed into my car,
hitting the back’s left corner. What happened next was reminiscent of those
action scenes from the Fast & Furious movies, as when goons chase the good
guys. The crash’s immense impact bumped me off my lane,
spinning the car four times while still accelerating and traversing to the
innermost lane. The car stopped within few centimeters away from the island
barrier fence; thanks to an astonishing instinct that came from nowhere, a thin
whisper in the air that told me pull the hand brake up. The story ended
abruptly, I was saved! It was nothing short of a perfectly executed movie scene
done in a single take, no director, no script and no special effects.
They say we all lose 21 grams at the exact moment
of our death. During those few seconds that I was going through the ordeal, I
just didn’t feel like losing the weight of a chocolate bar, there was a
complete absence of gravity. As I turned 360 degrees several times, I could see
cars around moving so swiftly to the left and right, breaking, screeching and
trying to avoid a collision. Everything was happening in slow motion. I could
see the minute details of the cars and the drivers’ faces. I could see my
coffee sprinkling like water on the green garden and my hair flipping like those in infamous shampoo adverts. My life from beginning flashed back before my
eyes. My thoughts dawned on my family and to be honest, lastly to God. I asked
Him to keep me safe. I surrendered. It
happened. It was the longest 10 seconds of my life. It’s harrowing, yet in that
same instant I knew I wasn’t alone. Someone was watching. Other motorists stopped
and rushed to my side to check up on me. Someone gave me water. Somebody told
me to sit on the grass. Others suggested I should go to the ambulance and get checked.
One lady told me I was so good in driving to have cheated such a likely life
grabbing situation. My faith in humanity was restored. I was unscathed, at
least physically.
I met the days after the accident with zest of sharing
my story and made it appeared like a walk in a park. The reality that I emerged
in one piece didn’t make it looked grave at all. The absurdity to be funny albeit the fatal
experience has taken away the chance for people to lend their sympathy. Positivity
has utterly erased any mark of that nightmarish event. But deep inside, I was
tormented. Beyond the humor and the cheerful character, I was nursing a wounded
heart. Whenever I had to lay me down, the vivid images
of the accident kept joining me for company, without solicitation. I had unease
going to sleep. Whenever I was on the road, be in on public commute or riding in a friend’s car, the sight and
sound of speeding vehicles was triggering a paranoia and deep sense of anxiety.
For a couple of weeks, I tried to
conceal the fear with laughter. Always saying it’s all water under bridge. But
it wasn’t. It was like dark fluffy clouds following me wherever I would go, a
wrinkle of memory that’s constantly reminding me of the day I walked away dry
from this tumultuous fleeting storm.
The countless “what-ifs” and
“what-could-have-been” were staple subject of my idle mind in many occasions. Sometimes
I would stare into the blank wall and I would imagine how the worlds of people
close to me would have been had I perished from that accident. I wondered if anyone
would be sorry for losing a jolly or rather be happy for missing a bully. Oftentimes
I smiled but at times I couldn’t help as tear fell and kissed my cheeks. Not I
that see myself to matter much to many, but to my family, workplace, and circle
of friends, guess it could have been sad moment apart from devastating. How
many lives do we have to live before we realize the essence of being alive? How
many loved ones do we have to see go before we appreciate their kindness or for just being themselves? When
do we tell someone we love them or say sorry to people we have wrong to? Worse timing
is when we’re already down six feet under. So while we have the breath and strength
to do it, waste no time and serve the purpose of our lips, mind and heart.
I have never felt lucky in my
life - never have won in any sort of raffle or bet games or been able to land
the jobs of my dream but instead always falling short of fulfilling things that
I wanted people to know me for. I used to envy the successes of other people and
always thinking how lucky they were for getting what they wanted; discrediting
the efforts and hard work they might have invested to get to where they are. But
this incident has spun my mindset around in a good way. I may not be at all
lucky in some ways but I am completely blessed. And being blessed doesn’t need
you not to appreciate what you have simply because you do not have what others posses.
Life in itself is a blessing no other things could equal. You can’t trade a
chance of second life for any quantifiable things in this world. It’s more than
having the things that make you happy, but knowing someone is guiding you and
living the life you’ve been given with deep sense of purpose and gratitude. To
end this story, I am selling my beloved Juke to get a new one. I will for sure
remember all the days that we’ve shared together, the day I received it and most
specially the day it was torn to pieces, the same day I would not want to think
as the day I almost lost my life, but the day I got a second.
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