The Shattered Clock- By Nadia Mustaq

  • Contributed by : Nadia Mustaq
  • Status : Student
  • Class : 9
  • Age : 14
  • Mode : Medium
  • Article type : Essay
  • Target Age Group : 11-15 Years

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When we were back in Kuwait, we had this simple, black and lovely clock. I named it ‘black beauty’. What made it remarkable was the silver-colored pendulum it had. My mother says that she bought the clock when she first moved in to Kuwait about 20 years ago. Now I guess you know how old the clock is. After returning from school every day I would sit on the sofa which was placed near the wall my black beauty was hung on to. I would simply eat my snacks and wave the pendulum from side to side and play with it. My mom would say “Nadia stop playing with it! One day you will break the pendulum and then we will have to throw away the clock.” I ignored her. Whenever the battery finished, I changed it, kept it clean etc. I know that you might be thinking if I am crazy enough to care for a clock, but it had so much sentimental value.

Last year 2020, my family and I shifted to India. We came by one of the VANDE BHARAT MISSION flights which is a whole another story. So, we started packing, as we were shifting permanently, we packed each and every thing. Right from the kitchen utensils to large furniture and of course the clock. We bubble wrapped the clock put it in 2 plastic bags and also taped it so that it wouldn’t break. I was so sure that it would not break because after all that packing what could possibly go wrong?

We reached India and after almost 1 month of quarantine, we reached our home safe and sound and only after another 1 month, we received our cargo. I jumped with excitement. I and my sister unpacked everything. As there were 4 giant boxes, we decided to divide it amongst each other. As soon as I started unpacking the second box the first thing, I laid my hands on to were glass pieces. I thought that it might have been one of my mom’s pudding bowls, but as I looked deep down into the box, I could see a package fully torn. When I opened the package, it was none other than my black beauty! It was broken. The pendulum and the clock were in two pieces. The glass was broken too. I went through a rollercoaster of emotions. I felt angry, gloomy, terrible and much more. My dear black beauty was shattered.

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