Aglow - Part I

The first time I had thought about becoming the prime minister of my country had been on a similar rainy day.

Rain fell outside my window softly but consistently. It was rare for it to rain during this time of the year, but today, when I woke up, drops of rainfall were hitting my window. Beyond, the lake’s water reflected the cloudy sky and appeared as though it had embraced a contemplative demeanor.

I sat by the window for some time— lost in the rain. In the small enclosure outside my window, a shallow pool of water had accumulated. As more droplets of water hit the pool, circular waves formed and disappeared within seconds.

My phone rang. I turned on the lamp; little light entered from the one window in my room, especially on a day like this when the sun was obscured by the clouds. My phone’s ringing amplified as I opened the drawer. The caller ID flashed my mother’s name.

“Good morning, looks like you just woke up—“ my mother said, probably seeing my unkempt hair and my crumpled pajamas. It was 9:30 am— early for me on a Saturday morning but too late by my mother’s standards. She woke up promptly at 5 am no matter what the day was.

I recounted about my approaching finals— the detailed notes I had to study and the expansive papers I’d have to write. At least I was on top of everything and had already created the outlines. Plus I intended to make my weekend productive so that when the deadlines approached next week, I’d have most of the work done.

I asked her about how things were at home— unsurprisingly, not much had changed since our conversation last evening. Towards the end of our conversation, she added, “There is a piece of news that might interest you— we are going to have a new prime minister.”

“What? Who is it?” I was perturbed. Just three months ago, the prime minister had changed. And now. Again. This would mean that all the ministers would change too. The work that the current leaders had started would remain unfinished. Who could expect any development in times like these?

It seemed as though all that people wanted was power— regardless of the consequence. The people who were given power to attain development of the country neglected that very development.

From my mother, I discovered the details of this change. It was a coalition change. How predictable. This seemed more like children’s games in school where children would keep switching their allegiance, based on which alliance might bring them school popularity. Here, except, they had made a game out of an entire country.

I don’t remember what I ate for breakfast that day or how I spent rest of the morning. Thoughts about the coalition gnawed at me— as faces of politicians flashed through my mind. Political parties had been formed on the foundation of ideals. But for power, they abandoned those principles. If those principles mattered even a bit, why would they form an alliance with someone they knew to hold the exact opposite beliefs?

When I looked at the clock, it was 1pm. Late. I had planned to start studying by 11:30. I was running over an hour late. I instantly changed into my blue jeans and a matching, dark blue T-Shirt. My laptop was fully charged but I still grabbed my charger and put it inside the case. I gathered the papers strewn across my desk and arranged them inside my folder. Within five minutes, I was ready with my fully packed bag.

By the time I stepped out into the courtyard, much of the rain had subsided and now fell like cool mists upon my face. The path to the library was a series of narrow cemented walkways stamped onto the grassy land. The grass blades, fresh with moisture.

The first time I had thought about becoming the prime minister of my country had been on a similar rainy day. There was a gathering in my house— my parents had invited their closest friends for a dinner party. As it neared 6pm, they were worried that their guests might not show up because of the heavy rain, but soon, people trickled in— shielded by umbrellas that formed a colorful panoply outside the door in the verandah. Inside, the guests encircled the central table where snacks were laid out.

Having no one of my own age to hang out with— I interlaced between the adults, my focus being the snacks on the table— from popcorn to french fries to salted peanuts. While the adults occasionally spoke to me— asking generic questions about school and my ambitions— they mostly forgot I was there and delved into a topic that captivated everyone— politics.

While I didn’t understand all the details of the conversation, I was enamored by how passionate everybody seemed. The details of the problems they spoke about were too convoluted for my 10-year-old brain to decipher, but I understood one thing clearly— that there was one person who could solve all of these problems— the prime minister.

I don’t understand what enchantment impelled me to decide that this would be the job for me, but in the years that followed, I set upon myself to accomplish this one goal by succeeding in the one task that society expected from me— by studying.

Social Studies became my favorite subject. I devoured academic texts about the nation, the government bodies, their functionalities as well as frequent news articles about corruption, poverty, dilapidated infrastructure. During lunch breaks and free classes, I’d be in the library— buried in the newspaper— dissecting the political and social events of the day, thinking of solutions that even lawmakers might envy. I knew the precise details about every ministry and its bureaucratic divisions. Even though not required by the school curriculum— I had read the constitution, enough times that some clauses had been engraved in my memory.

Did I regret that I spent those hours of youth— during which I’d have gotten to play outdoors, uninhibited, as though recreation was almost expected of me— confined in the library? Of course I didn’t. Because becoming the prime minister had become my life goal— and during the process, I’d— somewhere— started to relish the knowledge I gained— processing them to create an intricate map of what was happening in my country.

Part 2: Coming on 10 March 2026