About my dreams and my challenges, my

last day
By: Simran Raina

Today is the day. I can feel it now. My health has been deteriorating these last couple of
months, but today is the day. Today, I will reach my heavenly abode. It is a time such as this where
one begins to reflect on their life’s experiences, failures and successes, friends and foes, and many
other such things. I was never really one for sappy introspections, confessions, and reflections, but
today’s my last day. I have to. Maybe it will be published some day.
I was born on March 17th, 2003, in Surrey Memorial Hospital. I was a healthy baby, cute
and smart as well. Till the age of seven, I was an only child, and was given plenty of love and
affection. However, my parents never let me get spoiled; I was taught to be grateful for what I had,
and never to be stubborn. This was a life lesson, and helped me go through life as an obedient
child. I learned many more things from them over the years too, such as to not swear (which I still
do not do on my dying breath), how to walk with confidence, to have empathy for others, and to
be a person with good morale. But the most important trait I picked up was pride. This was a good
thing, but also affected me negatively over the years. I hated to be wrong or to make dumb
mistakes, which caused me to be a quiet student in class. I never was the first one to say sorry if I
knew I was not in the wrong, which caused me to drag arguments over a span of weeks, even with
my parents. However, I learned to control my pride; I learned to be the ‘better man’ in an argument,
and to speak my mind freely, even if I felt I was going to say something dumb.
When I hit the age of seven, my sister was born. She changed my life forever. As we grew
up together, we got into many fights and arguments, but had our good moments as well. I taught
her math and science way ahead of her grade level, and she would know exactly what to do when
she was taught it at school. I taught her how to wrestle and fight, but also that it should be used in
dire circumstances where one must defend themselves. In return, she taught me the meaning of
responsibility, how to be a good teacher, and how to be an encouraging and motivating person.
My school days were some of the best times of my life. I started school at the age of five,
and went to Dr. FD Sinclair Elementary. Even though it was no private school, it had a good
reputation and very kind teaching staff. From the very beginning, I was cherished by all my
teachers, and I respected them very much as well. Time passed by quickly and I soon hit grade
five. This year had to be the school year that impacted m the most. My teacher was Ms. Williams,
one of the greatest teachers in the world (not officially, but in my mind). She pushed me to new
heights, challenging me to do better than everyone else and to try new things. But most
importantly, she told me to loosen up. I never thought of myself as an uptight person till the day
she said that, but then I realized she was right. It took me about a year to open up, not only to
people but also to new ideas. This moulded me into who I am now. In grades six and seven, I
learned the value of physical activity, and began to join every sports team I could at school. I joined
taekwondo classes, and played field hockey as well. These years were crucial for the shift in my
personality.
Soon, I hit grade twelve. This was the year I had to make one of the most crucial decisions
of my life; I had to decide my career. From a young age, I had a fascination for science, and I knew
I would go into a scientific field, more specifically, biology. However, I could not make up my
mind about going into medicine or forensics. I was very passionate about forensic science; I found
it fascinating how physics, chemistry, and biology could be used to solve crimes and cold cases.
My parents, on the other hand, wanted me to become a doctor, or more specifically, and E.R doctor.
From their perspective, an E.R doctor had a difficult job, and would have to think on their feet.
They had a high salary, and earned a lot of respect in the workplace and in the outside world. But
I knew it was not in me to do it. I could not handle dire situations such as those that E.R doctors
face, and I knew I would be mentally disturbed if someone slipped through the gaps in front of
me. So, I took the most logical decision. I decided to become a Forensic Scientist.
After several vigorous months of volunteer work, acing my classes, and applying in
universities, I was happier than a mosquito in a blood bank when I found out I got admission into
Boston University. It was a dream come true. After a tearful farewell with family and friends, I
left for Boston with my dad, who would help me settle down there. I secured a room on campus
and had a room mate, Sarah. She was a sweet and kind girl, and we were taking the same major.
Comforted by the kindness of my room mate and the safe campus, my dad left me. I was all on my
own now.
All my classes were extremely difficult. I had not known there was so much to DNA
analysis. However, whenever I felt like quitting, Sarah convinced me to reach my goal and become
the “best darn analyst the world will ever see.” During the summer holidays, I visited my family
back in Surrey, and during the winter and spring holidays, I spent my time working two jobs; I
worked as a piano teacher and as a lab assistant. I raked up enough money to support myself, and
cooked the food my mother taught me. I had many friends there as well, and we were a very tight
group. Most of us were taking the same courses, so we worked on homework and projects together.
We mostly met up in my room, goofing off and having a grand old time. I also convinced my
friends to stay another four years to do our Masters, and most of us made it through.
I moved back to Surrey, and stayed with my parents till I could get a job. My sister was
nineteen at the time, and was a first-year student in Harvard University, studying law. I applied in
several places, and worked as a piano teacher on weekends to earn some money. At last, I applied
in the RCMP, at the federal level, in the Biology Services. I was shocked to see, that after several
weeks of intense background checks and interviews, that I got the job! My parents’ eyes welled
up with tears out of pride. I immediately packed my bags and moved to Ottawa, where I worked
with the RCMP for almost thirty years of my life. At age thirty-five, while still working for the
RCMP, I applied for a PhD in George Washington University. I took time off from the RCMP and
spent four years rigorously studying and researching, and my effort bore fruit four years later. I
had officially become Dr. Simran Raina.
 I began to work my way up in the RCMP, eventually earning a high salary and living a
comfortable life. By the age of fifty-four, I had become bored with my routine. Nothing new or
exciting was happening, and I was beginning to get mentally disturbed by the cases I dealt with on
a daily basis. I decided that I wanted a simple life, with little stresses and worries, so I applied for
a job in Boston University as a professor. I was unsure about getting the job, as I had no teaching
experience, but I knew my PhD would be persuasive. Soon enough, I was given the job. I moved
to Boston, where I quickly applied for a green card and began the slow process of US citizenship.
I felt like I had started a mew life.
My first day as a teacher was amazing. My lecture hall was full of enthusiastic students
who wanted to achieve the highest in the future. Each day, I took out time to find stories and
interesting facts to tell the students, and I became an alumni favourite very fast. The faculty was
also impressed by me; they treated me with kindness and respect. I felt like nothing could be better
than this. After a very long time, I received my US citizenship.
My parents had grown old, although it wouldn’t believe that. I had become worried about
them, and told my sister, who was now in her late forties, to take care of them and visit them
regularly. I began to send them money every month- more than half my salary so they could use
the money on the medicine. But one fateful day, I was received terrible news. They had died in an
accident; they had been rear ended, and the airbags failed to deploy. I immediately packed my bags
and went to Surrey, where I saw my distraught sister. After cremating their bodies, I stayed in
Surrey to mourn and grieve. It was a tragic blow; the two people I loved most in the world were
no longer present. My sister was taking it worse than me; she had never been a strong person. I
consoled her, telling her that our parents had accomplished things in life that no other parents could
accomplish.
To help her, I began writing a biography on their lives. I wrote about everything; where
they were born, their school life, how they met, and how they raised us. Writing it somehow made
me feel better, as I could vent out and remember all the adventures we had during our lifetime.
When I was finished, I took it to my sister, and she loved it. She gave me the idea of publishing
the book, saying that it would be a hit, and would spread our parents’ story to the world. I contacted
a publishing company, who like it very much. The book, “In the shoes of my parents,” became an
international bestseller. All the proceeds went to orphanages around the world.
Shortly after the publishing of the book, I went back to Boston to teach. It was a good
distraction which kept me occupied for most of the day. I retired at the age of sixty, and lived in a
condo in Boston Central. I became a full time author, and wrote children’s chapter books, and
some adult ones as well. In fact, one of them turned into a Hollywood movie as well!
So here I am. That is my life in a nutshell. This is what it all comes down to. My final
breath in this wor-…