Have You Seen My Fingerprints?

Shreya pressed her right thumb, for the fifth time, on the sensor and it beeped in denial, again. She grunts in frustration.

Why does this stupid machine can read her fingerprints? The man behind the desk, annoyed at everything in the world, growls, "Whats the matter with you?"

"Um, I don know, seems like the sensor doesn like me."
"Okay. Back off. You are holding up the line".

Well, that was rude. But Shreya didn expect anything better, though. Hes just a puny government employee doing his job to help people get their NIDs. But why didn her fingerprints show up when they were needed?
Her father was waiting outside the office. "How was that, sweetie?"

"Dope. Just figured out I am a ghost". Perplexed, her father asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, sounds like I don have fingerprints, so no ID.And theres a high chance that Im a ghost. A very pretty one, of course, and with a college degree."

Mr. Polash pressed the back of his hand on Shreyas forehead, checking for a fever. But her forehead seemed very okay. Shreya took her fathers phone, opened the selfie camera, took a photo, zoomed in. She was looking a bit pale, and some dark circles declared their strong existence with extra darkness under her big, beautiful eyes. Thats just the lack of sleep for watching Netflix all night, she knew. She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself maybe she wasn a ghost, and even if she is, maybe a harmless one. "Well go see a doctor, okay? Don you worry", Mr Polash tries to comfort his often emotionally troubled daughter.

Reaching home, she entered her room and locked the door. She pulled her laptop, opened it, and searched on Google "No fingerprint disease". Turned out this thing has a mouthful of a name: Adermatoglyphia. Jeez, thats something. She tried to pronounce it twice and then gave up. But thinking of the bright side, shed be the coolest criminal in town leaving no trace at all. Bank robbery, murders, jewelry theft- name it, baby! She soon dozed off daydreaming about all these.

When she woke up, it was 6.13 PM Nice time to take a walk outside, she thought, and she had a place in mind: a small, cozy coffee shop nearby- her favorite one. She slipped into her sweater and put on her favorite Chuck Taylors. In a minute, she was on the pavement. A gentle breeze blew some of Shreyas beautiful hair. She liked it. As she got to the coffee shop, she sat at her favorite spot. There were 2 other people in there, sitting at the farthest corner of the room. Its always quiet here. Thats why she liked it more. She randomly pulled a book out of the nearest shelf- a copy of Calculus for Dummies by Mark Ryan. Today, indeed, is a bad day.

The shop owner, Ishaan,a sweet guy in his early 30s, often Shreyas only friend in the town, slowly walked toward Shreya. He gently pulled another chair up and sat beside her.

"Hey, sweetie, you okay?" he asked.

"I don know exactly" Shreya replied.

"Got it. Gal, you just need a strong coffee and some cookies," he suggested.

"Yes, make it as dark as my sense of humor," She sounded serious."Aww. Thats a cute way of asking for extra sugar and milk", Ishan smirked as he teased.

"So, whats itching? Just don say its a boy problem!"

Shreya let out a sigh and said,

"I don have fingerprints, or at least the machines can read them. Now go laugh."

But Ishaan was a grown-up, unlike an immature 24-year-old. "Its alright, honey. Im sure doctors will figure it out. Well, some people don even have fingers, but you have ten fully functioning ones. We should celebrate that. Sometimes, we need to appreciate our mere existence. We e all precious, just like Brad Pitt."

Shreya smiled softly. Ishaan went to fetch her coffee, and she found herself lost in thought. For a split second, she considered being a bank robber.

Returning with her coffee and a few chocolate cookies, Ishaan suddenly stood up and tapped his glass with a spoon, grabbing the attention of the other two patrons in the corner. He cleared his throat and made an announcement, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have an important announcement to make. This young lady here, Shreya, has been diagnosed with a rare disease. She only has about 50 years left to live or something. In her honor, well be naming our new experimental latte after her! Itll be called the Shreya Latte!"

The announcement sounded neither optimistic nor particularly polite, almost as if she were already on her deathbed. Nevertheless, Shreya burst into laughter.

"Can I get a regular Shreya Latte, please? Heres to leaving a mark without leaving a mark," she quipped. Man, thats how people would ask for a Shreya Latte?

Ishaan joined in, "Now stop laughing, will ya! This generosity comes with a price, okay? I need to print new menu cards with this stupid Shreya Latte on them. Ill surely have to charge extra!"

Shreya realized that life wasn so bad without fingerprints. "Thanks, you just became my fifth favorite person on earth."
"I bet the first four don even exist," Ishaan retorted.

Shreya laughed and got up, preparing to leave. The coffee had been exactly what she needed, and Ishaans stunts were a bonus. "See you tomorrow," she said, giving him a quick hug before getting out of the shop.

"Ill send you articles about famous people with rare diseases!" Ishaan shouted after her.

Shreya smiled. As she made her way home, she pondered the idea that she wasn a ghost or a vampire but rather a reflection of the human experience. Perhaps not having fingerprints was her way of leaving a mark without leaving a mark. And suddenly she was all cheerful, making tiny little hops as she was walking down the road like a little bunny. She thought what a wonderful world!

The writer is a graduate student at the University of Dhaka