Thirteenth Floor

Students, here is a piece written by Rija Z Ghazanfar of M2. Enjoy reading it! And don't forget to give her your comments.

The number 13 an omen, a bad luck, a curse! Bah, what rubbish right? Some say the world will end on Friday the thirteenth. Funny that is. All these are superstitions which evolved from nowhere but the human psyche. At least that is what I though until the day I got married.

It was an ancient treat to the yes which rose meters and meters high above our heads in the Spanish air. Yes, I am talking about the Plaza Venezia where my wedding took place on its most charming thirteenth floor, the floor beautifully clad in violet and black. It seemed as if nothing could go wrong.

Holding my father’s arm, walking up that aisle in a gown, which could put the queen’s gown to shame, was just the best thing ever. The view which the thirteenth floor offered was magnificent and the fast moving wind gave the entire scene a fairy tale like aura.

The ceremony was sealed with a kiss and the party began. Everyone sang and danced delirious to the music. The sound of laughter and unperturbed fun was only pierced suddenly by a shrill scream of terror as my thirteen year-old niece fell plummeting to the ground several feet below. Whereas, all of us could only hover over the terrace of the thirteenth floor and stare in silence as the bad luck laughed at us in triumph. What as I supposed to think of all that I laughed at? The thirteen year-old niece and the thirteenth floor, a curse or a coincidence?

Rija Z Ghazanfar M2

April 2011