Welcome to my world of words! I am Anaya Sheth. I am 12 and currently in 6th grade. I am writing since the age of 6. I love reading and (you guessed it!) writing. I want to be known worldwide for my writing one day.
ESSAY WHICH WON ANAYA SILVER MEDAL IN ‘ THE QUEEN’S COMMONWEALTH ESSAY COMPETITION 2025’
I had no idea what was to happen when I was sorting through the dusty stacks of books at the library. I was looking for a book that helped me solve my complicated problems in my puzzling life. Something about balancing too much homework, studies, extracurricular activities, friends and enemies. A light emitting from a dark corner suddenlycaught my eye. I ventured toward it and saw it was a door!
Curious, I opened it and felt a jolt. An invisible force was pulling me inside. I shrieked but the scream echoed only in my head. I shut my eyes tightly in terror.
When I opened them, I was in a strange place. A… schoolhouse? Heads were bent over wooden desks. Nobody seemed to have noticed me. The girls were all donning tight frocks; their hair was braided into 2 plaits. I remembered a project I had done on the 18th century. This scene was common in the 1890s. Could it be…? I saw the date on the blackboard: 20th July 1890. Yes. I had travelled back in time. I spotted a boy pull a red-haired girl’s plait and whisper “Carrots.” She jumped up, blazing. She smashed her slate on his head. The teacher made her stand at the front with the words: ‘Ann has a bad temper. Ann must learn to control it.’ I caught a glimpse of her face. It was the girl on the cover. Anne. I felt I was at the start of a meaningful journey.
‘’Hello!’’ I said brightly to Anne as soon as the bell rang. ‘’ What’s your name? Mine’s Anaya.’’
‘’I’m Anne,’’ she replied, looking puzzled at this strange girl with a T-shirt and shorts.
‘’I’m lost. Could you help?’’
Anne told me all about her monotonous life while taking me to her foster parents’ house. They were called Marilla and Matthew. Apparently, I was in Canada. In the book ‘Anne of Green Gables’.
Anne announced she was not going back to school the second she was home. ‘’You mustn’t be so insulted by things,” I advised.
She merely nodded. “Everyone says my temper matches my hair,” she said, fingering a plait.
After living at Anne’s for nearly a week, I became almost used to this life, though I still wondered when I would be able to get home. I witnessed an unusual incident when, next Sunday, Anne returned thrilled about a picnic. She was consented to go but then Marilla’s brooch went missing. Anne was accused. “I didn’t take it!” she insisted.
“Oh yes, you did. Own up or you won’t be allowed to the picnic.’’
“Fine. I took it. It looked so beautiful that I simply couldn’t help it. I pinned it on and then I peered in the water at the lake but the brooch decided it had had enough of me. It fell into the lake, to its grave.’’
“You can forget about that picnic.’’
With a sob, Anne ran upstairs. I followed her.
“You made that up, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Anne hiccoughed. “But I didn’t know what it would lead to!”
“Life is like a game of chess. Think ahead or you lose the game.”
I told Marilla the truth.
Anne was lifted from her picnic ban. That night, she came to me, weary and thankful. “Anaya, I took your advice. I’ve apologised to Gilbert and I’m going back to school. Thank you.”
My heart lifted. It felt like my work here was done.
“Anaya, are you dozing?’’ my father’s voice shook me awake. I was back in the library. In 2025.
“Are you gonna borrow this book?” he asked, pointing at the copy of Anne of Green Gables still clutched in my hand.
“I sure am,” I said, smiling.
I’d realized you couldn’t miss what you didn’t know. It suddenly struck me that everything had 2 sides: dark and light. And sometimes even these 2 sides got mixed up to make a real jam! I had certainly learnt quite a lot in the barely 1 week in the book and 1 hour in real life I had stayed there! A journey short, no doubt, but quite rich.
This adventure made me realize everyone had problems, and you just needed to face them. As I had given advice to Anne, I felt as if I was guiding myself to the thorny path of my own problems. I left the library that day with a heavy heart full of happiness and goodwill.
I recently had the strangest experience of my life. I interviewed a mummy (not my mom, I already keep her on her toes!) but a preserved body made by the Ancient Egyptians!
It happened one quiet afternoon in our old library. I was studying Egyptian history. I was buried behind a stack of old books, reading with rapt attention, when he suddenly popped. I couldn’t believe my eyes but there he was, wrapped from head to toe in crumbling bandages, standing and staring at me and the open books scattered on my desk.
How could I let this chance go? I had so many questions and who would know about Egyptian history better than a mummy! I immediately asked if I could ask him a few questions. He nodded and seated himself (with great difficulty) at my table and declined my offer of tea.
I asked him, “How was your life before death?”
The mummy gave a wistful sigh. “I still remember a lot about my life. Turns out, bandages carry more than bodies,” he said wistfully, gesturing at himself.
“I was an embalmer. Do you know what an embalmer means? It’s a type of doctor specializing in mummification. I was highly respected and best one in my field. Pharoah Tutankhamun himself was mummified by me. I had a large house, almost a palace, and was rolling in luxury and gold. I was so happy. Sadly, that all ended when I was killed, murdered in my bed,” his voice rose, “by a jealous rival. He was my sworn enemy. The last thing I ever saw on earth was his depraved, evil face sneering at me as he raised sword.”
I shuddered. “That sounds terrifying. Where you scared?’
The mummy continued, his eyes narrowing, ‘’What scared me the most, though, came after death. We were always told that our afterlife would be spent in paradise. Alas! It wasn’t so. I was sent to hell. We all feared Osiris, ruler of the afterlife, and lived in terror. Most of us became slaves or servants, forced to obey cruel orders. Our bandages were ripped off, and we were given rough cloth garments to wear. Osiris was as cruel as could be.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t give you any pay?” I asked hesitantly.
“Pay? Far from it, he never even gave us any food! We were reduced to eating the weeds in the garden!”
“How AWFUL!” I exclaimed, shocked.
“Very,” he agreed. “I cried so much my bandages got sodden. The one night, when I wept so much, my bandages almost peeled off, I realized bandages could heal everything except a torn heart.”
I grew quiet and solemnly asked “And what happens after the afterlife? How did you end up here?”
“We float down to Earth and get the choice of either sleeping in our graves, forever resting, or living on Earth as a mortal. The reason I’m the first mummy to choose the second path is because we are tired and exhausted in fact, after our lives and afterlives. But I wished to see what the modern world was like, after 1000 years in hell. Literally!”
‘You’ve spent so many centuries in hell and archaic Egypt. Do you find it difficult to cope with this new modern world, with cars, air conditioners, smartphones, and such?’ I questioned him.
‘Frankly? I do. I do miss my old world and my old life, but I love being here, in a new world, with different people. I’ve learned so much about change and growth, and how humans evolve over millennia, and yet inside we’re all still the same.’
‘ I’ve never heard truer words,’ I remarked, smiling. ‘So, Testam, this last question is something that has aroused my own curiosity. Don’t you ever get fed up of those bandages?’
‘Well, I’ve never really thought of it. I have worn them for around 10 centuries and I’ve got used to it. One thing that irks me though is the blistering heat. It’s unendurable in these!’ he grinned, tugging at his wrapping.
Not even mummies can escape global warming, I thought with a smile.
More people deserved to hear Testam’s beautiful story.
I then paused. I had an epiphany. I asked hopefully, ‘Would you like to write a book with me about your experiences in life and afterlife?’”
Testam’s eyes grew wide. His eyebrows, hidden beneath the bandages, seemed to rise. “Yes,” he whispered. Great, I grinned, trying to conceal my delight. Who would have thought I would write a book with a mummy!
Epilogue
Two Years Later
I jumped with excitement. Our book had come out yesterday and it had already sold a million copies! It was 250 pages long and was titled A Mummy’s Life, and we were already working on the sequel, A Mummy’s Afterlife.
To celebrate, we visited Egypt, where Testam proudly pointed at Tutankhamun’s mummy and declared to the press, “I mummified him!” Everyone laughed, including Testam himself.
And though his words carried pain, I knew they were true. And that truth was all that mattered.