Hope Factory

Hope Factory

Somewhere between the heaven and earth.

Nireeksha frowned, it partitioned her glabella. Her mouth was pinched with her face setting into a sour expression. Christmas was around the corner. The carols for Santa Claus were blasting as humans greeted each other with rare displays of warmth while shopping. And made wishes. Endlessly.  

The credit-hungry Santa is all humans remember. Does anyone care about us, the wish granters? Nopes! The wretched shooting stars hijack whatever the remaining appreciation.

She glared at the massive list of wishes on her computer. Her frown made a resurgence. Nireeksha’s mood failed to match the cheery yellow walls of her department, Allocation of wishes. It was the place where wishes came to be fulfilled. Or rejected.

And she, Nireeksha, was the judge, jury, and executioner. At least, for the wishes allocated to her. She sighed.

People didn’t realise that fulfilling or rejecting a request created huge paperwork for the officers-in-charge. We need to justify every action before filing the ticket. Humans berate us for the delay in their wishes coming true. If they only knew! The research we do to ensure the wish doesn’t affect their future timelines. Or people connected to them. For them, granting wishes is like an ATM. Request inside, fulfilment outside. Bah.

She put on her glasses and peered into the computer. She rotated her shoulders and pumped herself up for the task ahead.

The first wish on her list was from a doctor, begging for a bundle of joy to behold in her arms. Nireeksha opened the doctor’s file and examined the past and potential future.

A series of failed pregnancies. The poor dear deserves a break.  

She approved it after typing in the justifications. The next request swept her grumpy mood away. Someone from earth had wished for Covid-19’s eradication.

Ha. As if.

She relegated the ticket to the growing rejected pile of similar requests.

Sentimental wishes like saving lives, wishing for death, or praying for peace were out of her purview. With reluctance, she tearfully rejected those.

What do we have next? A young girl asking to be treated fairly. Hmm… her file looks squeaky clean. Heck! Granted!

Nireeksha smiled her first smile of the day.  Her anticipation of the happiness on the child’s face pleased her. The next corresponding wishes pushed her into spades of laughter.  

A wish to shrug off the writer’s block. Why not! Tathastu. Wait, what should be the rationale for it? Well, peace of mind and increase of self-worth, that is what!

Nireeksha, in secret, maintained her list of wishes. She wished to visit Earth. Take a stroll in Kashmir’s tulip gardens. Or enjoy a ride in Kerala’s backwaters and trek in the Spiti Valley. So much to explore, but work was omnipresent. Granting other’s wishes left her no time to nurture hers.

One day, I will walk amongst the humans. I will roam on Earth. Maybe, someday my wish will be fulfilled. Hope springs eternal. I wish for my wish to come true.


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One thought on “Hope Factory

  1. The one who grants wishes has a wish that she yearns to fulfill! The narrative style though casual brings in the wish list of humans every Christmas, every festival.
    “The credit-hungry Santa is all humans remember. Does anyone care about us, the wish granters? Nopes! The wretched shooting stars hijack whatever the remaining appreciation.” liked the way stars and Santa are extolled for granting wishes and fulfilling dreams.

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