Tag Archives: wishing


11 Nov

On this day in the year 2011, I was with a bunch of 9 year old’s in a class of my own. In the morning, with an awfully uncontrollable children whose imaginations always soared sky-high; a meek voice asked me if wishing for something at eleven minutes passed eleven on the 11th day of th eleventh month of the two thousand eleventh year would come true.

The question was asked to one who had always been wishing at every sight of a shooting star and every wishing bone, who had endlessly tried to blow out the candles on her birthday cake, as the numbers grew each passing year, with one blow (internally and eternally wishing someone would help her fulfill this feat). A wishing well that I’ve passed without wishing is something that’s never happened. Even as a grown up, there’s still something about making a wish as and when opportunity arises that I would never dare deny. Despite the bitter reality of never seeing anything happen, I still make a wish. Yes, I know making endless wish hasn’t brought me much but maybe it’s just the making-a-wish part that I seem unable to let go.

The room was quiet in anticipation of my response. Few brows were raised and few even eased into smirks. The wishing girl inside me took over and I gave my “how about we all try” response. The sceptical eyes were speculating me as we got back to our lesson for the day. After a while, I informed the class that it was 11:10 and maybe we should start thinking of what to wish for. We all readied ourselves in our own special way and I started the countdown. Just when the clock showed 11:11 we all sat with our eyes closed and wished real hard. The scepticism all crushed by the temptation to make a wish or so I’d like to think.


image source

We all wished quietly and that was the end of it all. I don’t know if their wishes did come true  but still I hope they don’t give up on making wishes. I don’t even know if by letting them wish I’ve turned them more sceptical in the long run or proved to them what a silly teacher they’d got in me. But then again, what’s a life without miracles, without serendipity, without shooting stars…


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