Tee Zee Productions

Pot of Gold

It was pitch dark, Mariyam groped for her glasses and almost miraculously found them. She put the glasses on and suddenly the darkness seemed less threatening and more familiar. As she grew less disoriented, She remembered how she was shifted to the recovery room after being on a ventilator for almost a week. Her back still hurt with the effects of the virus. She tried to put her head up and read the time. It was almost six in the morning. "Old habits die hard.” she smiled at her body clock for never failing her. She looked around to find a nurse or an attendant but there was no one. She thought they must be tired too fussing around her for more than a week or maybe now they were attending another patient gasping for breath and struggling to win the battle called life. She finally perked her head up on the pillows and was able to see the contents of the table next to her bed. To her utter surprise there was a big bouquet, nicely wrapped. Those were her favorite flowers. Mariyam got so overjoyed that she picked up the bouquet and tried to find a card from the sender. She was even more intrigued to see a little black book, almost hidden in the middle of the flowers. Unless someone would examine the bouquet closely, they could not have found it. She wondered who could have sent this bouquet and notebook. With the curiosity of a little girl, she grabbed the black book and started to Turn the pages. She touched the surface of the blank pages with her finger tips. For once in her life, her hands seemed coarser compared to the suppleness of the paper. The blank void of the notebook demanded to be filled with words. Words that defined her, words that meant everything to her ever since she was a young girl. The brand new note book reminded her of the promise of every blank book she had written so passionately into. But the promise of the gold pot was never fulfilled at the end of those rainbows. At the ripe age of 50, she was still struggling to find her voice. She was still struggling to be noticed by the producers. She somehow failed to make any useful connections in the industry. Her failure to launch as a successful playwright had affected the academic ambitions of her daughter. She was most heartbroken when she thought of not being able to support her kid in any way. With all these thoughts rushing through her mind like scenes changing on a fast paced train window, she decided to write something. She grabbed the pen that she had been using to fill out the endless hospital paperwork. As she started writing her name, she felt a crease under the paper and she turned the pages over to find and smooth out that crease. To her utter surprise there was an envelope that had been fixed in the cover of the notebook. With her heart galloping, she opened the envelope. Mariyam could not believe her eyes, there were crisp new $500 bills! What in the world was this? Who could have sent her this money? She practically jumped out of her bed and frantically made sure the door was locked. She then opened the envelope with the doubt that it had been her over imaginative mind playing tricks on her. But the money was still very much there, she counted and recounted. Each time, she counted, she could not believe that it was $20,000. This was beyond her wildest imagination. This money could take care of all her worries. It was enough to pitch in her daughter’s monthly university expenses and to start working on her dream project. The book she had been wanting to publish, the play she so much believed in. This money seemed like all she ever desired from life. For a moment, she stood next to her bed, staring at those bills and wondering if all this was actually happening.