Harvey

Homage

Friday afternoon. Paula sits on a brown rocking chair in the dining room wearing a light blue long sleeved high-necked dress, sipping coffee and reading Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. She has silvery hair with a center part. Her dog Lucy drapes on her leg, eyes half closed.The gusty wind and an abrupt rumble makes both Paula and Lucy to lift their heads. Lucy sits up, her eyes are big, small pointy ears are up covered with anxiety. Paula closes the book and gets off from the rocking chair, She sets the empty tea-cup on the small wooden table and slowly steps closer to the rectangle glass window. The old wooden floor creaks beneath her bare feet. Out of curiosity, she lifts the slightly old white curtain. Outside the clouds are rolling in. Grey and thick clouds swirl and twist in the ever-rising wind. The sky explodes, lighting flashes and in a few seconds later the thunder crackle before finally settling into a loud angry rumble. Eighty eight years old Paula turns back from the window.

“ I did not know that a storm is coming!  Yesterday my daughter told me that it will  hit near Corpus Christi. Well, maybe the wind turned around. Let me bring the cat inside and then I will call my daughter.” She mutters.  She lifts the white shawl with small dark blue flowers from the top of a chair,wraps it around her shoulder, and walks towards the front door. It takes her a while to drag her old feet to the door. The knees have started to give up slowly.She used to run at least forty minutes in every evening after work, used to take lots of protein to keep her calcium level up but now it is hard to walk even to the front door. But she tries to keep up with yoga stretching, walks back and forth a few times from the mailbox to the front door and front door to back to the mailbox.She twists the knob and opens the wooden door. Outside the wind thrashes the rose bushes, gold Lantana,purple Petunia and the purple,yellow and red flower petals are scattered all over the green grass. The tree branches bent in wind bowing to a higher power. The sky is dark as a northern sea.

“ Kitty! Where are you? Kitty!, It is so hard to see in the dark. Paula takes a few steps towards the mailbox. “ Kitty, Kitty! where did he go?” The rain start to pour. Paula walks back into the house. From the kitchen, her dog Lucy barks furiously. She does not like this stormy weather at all. The grey cloud, thunder and lightning wrap her with wild imagination of falling sky or meanness of the world. Lucy wants her master to stay inside,close to her in one room in a tight circle. Paula closes the door from behind and takes off her sandals.

“Meow.the kitty jumps off from the small sofa.

“Kitty,when did you come?” She bends down and gently pats the cat on his head. Lucy is calm now to see both Paula and the cat inside. As soon as they settle in the living room, the phone rings.

“ Mom! Are you okay? I called you earlier but you did not pick up the phone.”

“ I am fine. I just went outside to get the cat.”

“ Listen carefully mom. Three of you go upstairs and stay there until I come to pick you. The Hurricane Harvey is coming and we will get lots of rain. But don’t worry I will be there soon.”

“Sure honey but do you think that  Harvey will be like Allison or worse?”

“ Mom, really I don’t know that yet and I hope it is not the same or worse hurricane. But please try to walk upstairs to be in the safe side.”

“ Sure, don’t worry,we’ll wait upstairs. And listen drive carefully. It is very windy outside.”  Paula hangs the phone. Three of them sit there for a while until the wind start to howl and heavy rain start to slip under the front door. Lucy starts to bark again and the cat immediately hides under the sofa.  Paula adjusts the blackrimmed eye-glass on her nose and gets off from the sofa. From the top of the  glass coffee table, she picks up her late husband Steve’s framed photograph gently in her shaken hands. They fell in love when Paula was in the last year of high school and Steve was in his undergraduation, who came as a visiting teacher to her school. He was a perfect gentleman; kind hearted, thoughtful, loving, respectful. They had a wonderful life until he passed away in last year. It is hard to live without Steve. Paula touches the picture with her finger. If anything happens, then she wants to stay close to Steve.

Paula lifts the curtain from the bay window to glance outside. The road has transformed into a river and the muddy rain waters has started to gush into the house. She holds the small frame in her right hand and calls both the dog and the cat to follow her upstairs. It is not that easy to climb the stairs with swollen knees but she tries her best. As she reaches upstair she leans against the wall to calm her heavy breath and looks down to the first floor. The first floor is full with water and the dog toys, her tea cups and her favorite classics are floating on the water. The water has sstarted to rise and cover a few of the stairs. Paula is scared and anxious. Lucy starts to bark.Paula pulls Lucy from the collar and drags her own feet slowly to the bedroom. In a hurry, she has left the cellphone in downstairs. Her forehead is knotted with desperation. Her daughter is not here yet and also she can not contact her. There is no way to call anyone from here because of the sound of the wind and the rain noone can hear her feeble voice. Paula opens the window and looks out side for help.

She tries to locate someone who can help her before the water gobbles her. A young man pulls a rowboat on a rope through chest deep water and comes towards her house. Paula wipes her wet eye-glasses in her dress and looks down to the street. Well it is not a street any more but a river. People floating carrying their dogs and gripping black plastic trash bags stuffed with their belongings. Some people are standing on the roof tops and the mail boxes and waiting for help. Paula pulls both her pets close and folds her palms together. Her prayer is for all these desperate people and their safety.

“ Mom! Mom!” Paula turns around from the window and walks a few steps towards the stair. But the staircase is full of water. She glances back to make sure that both Lucy and the cat are safe inside  while clutching Steve’s photograph in her hand. “ I am here darling. But what are you going to do?”

“ Don’t worry mom, just stay there.”

A young man in his thirty helps her daughter in rescuing Paula and she is placed on a small row-boat with her pets. As they arrive in the George R Brown Convention center Paula turns her face towards the gentle man who rescued her.

“ Thank You so much for risking your life and helping me. I will be always grateful to you. Are you a friend of my daughter?”

A small smile appears on his wet face. “ No, I am Luis, a homeless guy. I used to live in a small tent under the bridge and now the bridge is underwater and I was not prepared for a hurricane. Otherwise I should have moved to a shelter nearby. It caught me in surprise. I was swimming to reach to the other side, when I noticed your daughter. She is brave and loves you a lot. She did not care for her life and she was trying her best to pull the row-boat in the water. It was hard for her to pull the boat on a rope through chest deep water, so I decided to join and help her. I am happy to see you safe. Take care.”  They stand there in silence for a minute. Then he walks away and arranges himself in a line with two thousand people to get a shelter.

flood1  flood2  flood3

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Life from different angles

Inhabit

Her quiet and lonely life  has lasted for almost a year. One foggy week goes by, then another. One silent evening is followed by another silent evening. One cloudy day, after visiting the last patient, Liz drives to a nearby town to meet her friend Mei, a writer. Mei opens the front door holding the I-pad in one hand. A warm smile flashes on her small round face.

” Liz! After a long time! It is so nice to see you. Come in.” She closes the door from behind  and Liz takes off her shoes before walking into the living room. On the rectangle coffee table there are magazines and books are in a big pile. A few candles on one small table in one corner of the room. As Liz sits on the beige couch, Mei glances at her face.

” How are you Liz? I tried to call you so many times and even e-mailed you but I never received any reply! You need to let it go and move on with life.” Mei touches her shoulders.

” It is not that easy, not at all. But I am keeping myself busy in the clinic.” Liz replies slightly touching her ring then she pauses. ” How is your Novel coming?”

Mei brings the i-pad  and opens the goggle drive. She lets her friend read the story while she walks into the kitchen to prepare some tea, something to calm her friend. It is a pretty long story. Mei is almost forty and has been working on the novel for the two years now. she is a great believer in revision and revises each section on the novel six or eight times before she goes to the next chapter. Each time Liz comes, she reads hundred pages more. In many respects it reminds her of Henry’s screenplays. In one sentence the story might leap thirty years ahead and then in the next leap sideways two thousand miles across. But she loves to read her friend’s novel. Mei comes back to the room holding a small tray with two beautiful floral tea cups.

“This will help you relax.” Liz lifts the cup. The aroma of the tea wraps her as she sips the tea. Mei takes the I-Pad and starts to read her own story for a minute or two. She turns her head towards Liz and starts to talk on editing her story.  She concentrates more on her writing. After an hour or two of flipping a few magazines and reading the new edited lines of Mei’s story,Liz decides to leave.

” It is not nine yet. Stay a little longer and I will be done soon. Afterwards we can talk and watch a movie together.”

” It is fine Mei. But I have to leave. Tomorrow I have two meetings between eight to ten in the morning. Good night!” they hug each other.

After one week,on a partly sunny day, just after the announcement of a upcoming hurricane, Liz flies to Chicago to meet her friend Adel, a wonderful artist and her college friend. It is late afternoon when Liz reaches in Adel’s house. They sit in his dining room and talk for a while touching different events of their lives. On the table lay one or two sketch pads, sketch pens and a few almost completed sketches on one side of the table.

“The light is fine today,” he says “It seems to melt a little around the point where the water met with sand. Not at all like yesterday.”

“It was too bright Yesterday?”

She grimaces. “Too flat?”

” How is your clinic and the new patient?” Adel asks.

” It is very busy in the clinic and the new patient is getting stronger. she is seventy five but the surgery went well.”

Liz appreciates him as a kind and thoughtful man but does not like him when he is totally engrossed in his art! Liz leans over from her chair and touches his arm, and he stops sketching the dog until she moves her hand away.

” I came to see you after a long time and instead of talking to me you are concentrating on your sketch.”

” Sorry!” he says lifting his eyes from the sketch, then he frowns on the dog. ” I haven’t figured out the light,” he says. ” If I can’t understand simple light, forget about the stone sculptures.”

“It is the same light wherever you are, only your angle changes.” She shifts her chair closer. One of the cook places two cups of coffee between them on the table.

” We are good friends,” she says.

“Indeed, you are welcome to stay here in my home until you decide something else to do.”

Thank You for the invitation but I am needed in the clinic. I can’t leave it in short notice.”

Adel gives a short laugh that sounds precisely like the first abrupt sounds of a boiling kettle. ” You need someone to be with you and about the clinic. you can open one here and start your practice.”

Liz is surprised. ” It is not that easy to close one and open another in a completely different city. ” She glances at his face. ” Also what is the point of moving here? I will be busy in the clinic and you will never have time to spend.”

Adel sketches an errant line in the  dog’s tail and rubs it with his thumb. Then he stops.

” We are friend Liz. I will stand by you and give you company whenever you need. You have to make a decision. You have to be brave like Jules Verne who went twenty thousand leagues in search of the vastness of the sea.” He tosses his head back. “It is impossible for you to understand.”

” Now a days I stand alone in the early morning hours, where there are no foot prints besides my own behind me and I can feel a stark of emptiness in my heart. I understand everything very well.” Liz reaches right over and takes a sip of the hot coffee. Adel shakes his head and looks at Liz. ” He is gone Liz. You need to get over it and start a new life. I am serious.”

Liz glances at him. He starts to fidget with the sketch book like a young boy in school. She wonders how long she would have to sit with him before she could reasonably escape. Liz thinks of all the people she has met. She wouldn’t miss any of them and none of them would spend even a moment wondering of they would miss her. Each of them would fade in the other’s mind like paper dolls in a sunny window.

Stand Tall

Blossom

One bright Saturday morning, just after breakfast Isaac drives to a nearby mall in a rundown car with his father. He sits in the front seat, behind the rustiest door. It is fun to drive with his dad. He loves how the tires float sideways in the wet road or when his dad honks the horn. It sounds like the Sesame street blue monster bopping its nose. The mall is full of people and on each door of the store it says “Don’t miss the Father’s day sale”. He takes a sip from the  grape juice bottle as his dad takes him to the glass elevator. “ So dad, I wonder if all these people are buying gifts for their dad. If you say yes, then I should buy something for you. Right?”

Isaac’s father pulls him to one safe corner inside the elevator and adjusts the small front pocket on his son’s faded blue t-shirt. “ May be they are shopping for father’s day or they may be going to watch movie. Remember the school is out for summer. But you do not have to worry on that. We are here to enjoy our day together and that is the best gift.”

“ I agree dad.”  He concentrates on his ride in the elevator with glass walls. He feels as if he sails into the enormous blue sky like Superman. Below him, all the people has turned into moving dots.He feels tall and brave.The elevator stops and as he pushes himself out his father stops him from behind. “ Isaac! Wait for your turn. I always remind you to follow the Rules. Rules are extremely important and more exact the better.”
“ Sorry dad.”

After the mall, they visit a friend’s house who lives in a few blocks from the mall. Their house resembles a stack of beige rectangles. The rectangles are brick and they glistened after it rains. Though they look delicious, he is not supposed to taste them.That is the rule. Sometimes when he gets crazy, he licks the wall. His friend calls him retarded and his dad abruptly pulls the chair back. “ He is tired from the long hours in the mall that is all. I better take him home.”  They return home quietly; his father concentrates on the wheel and Isaac looks at the puffy white clouds and the tiny birds up in the sky.

Around six in the evening Isaac plays with his bright yellow toy train on the front porch, while his father reads a newspaper sitting on the stair. The battery of the train stops working and his toy train stops in the middle of the first round.Issac kicks the train and it hits the wall and flips. He tries hard to fix it but could not. His father closes the newspaper and looks at him.
“ Don’t be so harsh on others.”

“ Sorry dad, it will not happen again, but at the same time I do not like the way the train behaves!”

“ Have a little patience!” He sits with Isaac and helps him putting the pieces together with lots of patience. 

After dinner Isaac brings out all his rocks from a big plastic box, and spreads them on the floor. This his collection from all the national parks that he has visited with his father.Once a week, he washes and dries his rocks. Sometimes he colors them to make them brighter and happier. He feels himself as the Superman of the lifeless objects.

At the second week of August, Issac starts the middle school. His Psychiatrist has guaranteed that he is normal now.In last visit, the psychiatrist, a tall, skinny, gray-haired man Dr.Robertson asked him. “ Do you want to draw a road runner looking at the picture, while I do the tests? Or you can color it. Whichever one you like. Go ahead.”

Isaac did, he is good with eyes but with bodies! Not that much. His road runner looks like feather duster attached to a gardening rake. And now he goes to school. In the school playground he meets his old school friend Ron. He always boss him around or clearly bullies him; he kicks his desk, snaps his pencil in two, sometimes eats his lunch, bumps him from behind in the recess line. But Isaac does not how to respond so he stays quiet, does not say a word.

That afternoon it rains. The parking lot reflects the sky from a thousand puddles. His father comes to pick him after school. As Isaac walks into the house, he notices that the brick of his house is dyed dark with water. They are stacked together like crispy double vanilla sugar wafers. But he does not want to lick the brick anymore. He follows dad’s rule; no tasting the bricks. That night before, bed Issac draws a spectacular rainbow with his father, sitting on the wooden floor of the living room. And the rainbow has only his favorite colors; Blue, orange and yellow.He dreams he is riding the glass elevator into the space. The earth disappears beneath  the clouds and a billion stars. His dad says, “ You are a superhero, do you know that? “ A big  delightful smile beams on Isaac’s face.

It is a cloudless day in early summer. A few cardinals are chasing each other in the back yard through the magnolia branches. A gray squirrel is busy eating nuts. Isaac sits close to the big glass window in the dining room and eats his lucky charms in a bowl of milk.He could see the planes drawing white chalk lines in the sky. After the school, his father looks at his tired face and bruises on his hand. “ Is it Ron?”

Isaac does not reply.

“ It is time I would like to teach you how to defend yourself, son!”

The wind is moving across the yard, swirling. The leaves on the grass are all glossy and speckled. They keep lifting onto their edges then slowly toppling over. That is when his father starts to teach him to punch,how to do back kick and front kick.

Next day the a substitute teacher comes to the class; a tall, skinny young man. He allows the class to vote on everything instead of taking his own decision: “ What would you like to study next: science or history? All in favor of eating in class, raise your arms.” It is a mess. No One listens to him. As the substitute teacher leaves the classroom for lunch, the students end up eating in the class except Isaac. As Isaac opens his lunch box, Ron comes, snatches his sandwich. It falls on the floor. The whole class turn and watch but no one says a thing. During recess in the late afternoon, Isaac spots Ron on a tower. He approaches the tower and climbs the ladder. It seems as if he is riding the glass elevator. He feels tall and powerful, he rises into the clear blue sky like a superhero.Ron stands at the platform’s open edge. Isaac runs towards him and shoves him. His body hits the ground, nothing happens except a few bruises. But the principal punishes him with weeks of suspension. During the car ride from school,his father drives quietly. Isaac turns his face towards him. “It may be very wrong dad, but I had to do this. He bullies me all the time and it hurts me. I am trying to stand for myself.”

 

unique

Lukewarm

There are large blank patches in her memory that shift locale daily, unpredictably. Every morning when Hope wakes, she remembers something that the day before she has been unable to recall her house number, phone number or the name of the book. Then an hour or two later she notices a batch of new blanks she can not remember her social security number, the name of a few mysterious vegetables in her refrigerator.She has been told by her doctor so many times to let her family know that but she does not care much.A nurse visits her every morning.Although she does not expect the day to play out like this.Around nine in the morning, nurse Jena enters to her room without knocking. She draws back the white curtains and the sunlight floods the room. From her bed Hope glances the sloping meadow, the pretty pond, the waterside houses and her irritation passes.

“Let’s check the vitals,” Jena says. “ Get ready to take a walk in the garden.” She is an abrupt, oval-faced woman with graying wavy hair. She treats her like a small girl who Hope does not like at all. But sometimes she likes Jena’s crisp personality and her bark of laugh when she resists her attempts to get her up or make her follow a strict diet or to drink eight glasses of water in a day.

Hope has been told by her surgeon not to live alone after the heart transplant.The residue of  painkillers and anesthesia lives for six to seven months. Her insurance covers some, but not much. Now that the new president in office, he wants to repel the one health care that she has  but not sure what will happen in future. Hope is stubborn to depend on others.

The doctor has called dozens of times since the surgery about her heart. But Hope is tired to talk to anyone.

Awake. The pulsing cry of doves. Hope cranks the shutters open. She takes the coffee mug from the drain basket, sets the water boiling.She lapses into thought, as she stretches her legs, pushing the chair back against the wall.Today she should return the call.

“ Hello doctor! You tried to reach me?” Hope asks running her hand through her hair very lightly, just once.

“ How are you feeling Hope? Yes, I tried to reach you several times because the mother who donated her deceased daughter’s heart wants to meet you.”

They are both silent for a moment.

“ She wants to meet me! But I am not sure if I can handle that doctor.” Hope places her right hand onto her heart and feels its sturdy beat.It belongs to the young girl who died in the car accident.“I guess I owe her a lot, right? I mean she is the one who made the decision to donate her daughter’s organ. Well, sure doctor I will go for a short visit.” A pause fills her chest.

“ Thank you Hope.This will be better for both of you.”

It is lovely day, the sky is bleached turquoise color. The meeting is set on the top of a hill,close to a small white church. Hope stands steadily for a few seconds, then squares her shoulders and slowly walks up to the top of a hill breathing hard, leaning heavily on her cane, her heart pounding. There the woman stands in a white dress.Young enough to be her daughter, Hope thinks. Short wisps of brown hair crosses her forehead, no makeup or any jewelry. She extends her right arm. “ I am Alexis,thank you for agreeing to meet me. I am so sorry that you have to walk all the way up.”

“ It is fine,I need some exercise too.” Hope says with a small smile. “ It is so thoughtful of you to make this decision.”

“ My daughter was very close to my heart. It was very difficult for me to leave without her.” She looks up to meet Hope’s eyes. “ I want to listen to her and feel her. That is the reason I want to meet you.”Alexis walks closer. She leans her face forward towards Hope’s chest and closes her eyes. She listens to her daughter’s heart.Tears run down on her cheek.They stand there for a long time holding each other.

Twists of Fate

Unseen

It is the weekend after the Spring break. Emmylou and her father are having breakfast. She probably should sit facing her father and not the window so he would not have to compete with the diversions outside a few kids riding their bikes, an older woman is playing with her tiny Affenpinscher dog in her front yard, the construction that is going on at the end of the cul-de-sac, two squirrels scampering through the trees. They would have to wait  for her father to finish talking about miracles.

Her father believes in those things and in grand schemes God, religion and her.A few years ago, in November, Emmylou had a car accident. There had been intermittent  freezing rain, her car slipped and hit a truck.

Her father asks taking a sip from his hot coffee. “It is unbelievable! And I am thankful to God for protecting you.” He continues, “ There is one woman runs a wildlife charity, would you like to volunteer there? Try, you may like it.” He hands her a newspaper classified.

Emmylou has made it through high school and one year of college before the car accident. She is that kid, who moves sideways, lags behind, forgets her buddy in the partner system and loses the group. She has read a report from neuropsychologist that her executive function is severely impaired due to frontal-lobe injury.

“ So,” her father says. “ Are you ready for the interview?”

Emmylou takes a long deep breath and takes a sip from her herbal tea. Art and crafts she could do well or if she could find a job that allows her to play all day, that could have been perfect. The job search has been an integral piece of their morning routine for last two years. It is a complex exchange full of limited expectations, consistent disappointment.

Her father kisses the crown of her forehead on his way out and she watches his car fades beyond the driveway.

Emmylou walks into the kitchen.On the stainless steel refrigerator door there are a few faded magnets of wonder woman, ‘ I can do it’ and ‘Believe in yourself’ that her mother made infused with her strong believes. She passed away in cancer leaving Emmylou. Emmylou misses her mother her love and the time that they spent together.She wiped her tears and  looks to the other side of the refrigerator door.There is a long note from her father.

1.Take pills.  Pills to stabilize her mood, even if each one has a side effect that thins her hair and slows her metabolism.

  1. Feed Angel.  Angel is her cat. She is eleven years old tabby, has a shiny coat,mild arrogance, lots of stubbornness and a huge appetite.
  2. Shower and dress.  Clearly later. May be she could go back to sleep again or after one more cup of herbal tea.
  3. Find clothes for the interview.  Emmylou walks into her room. Clothes are everywhere spilling from the closet, exploding out of the chest of drawers, on the floor mingled with cat hair and dust.Folding requires fine motor skills and she does not have them. Her hands are weak and she can not fold them properly. She finds one black skirt in the back of the closet and one blue silk blouse which need ironing. She has to wait on that.
  4. Think about cleaning your room.Really!!

Emmylou looks around. Reams of papers are scattered everywhere, used art supplies on the desks. By the end of week her room is a colossal accumulation of socks, broken pencils, books and magazines.Every cleaning crew that her father has ever sent over, refused to work unless she could first get her room into “ manageable” shape, a concept which she does not know. “Sure I will try cleaning the room but in my way.” Emmylou mumbles.

The rest of the day goes fine. After shower,she watches a documentary on elephants,on polar bears, on climate change. Then she sits by the window sill and watches outside A spotted squirrel focuses on an acorn. Emmylou grabs her sketch pad.The squirrel is holding the nut in his tiny hands, gnawing on it pieces by pieces. She imagines his determination which pulses through her pencil creatively. She is almost done with her picture when her dad returns home.

Today her father has brought Chinese food for dinner so that they do not have to cook. He hands her a fortune cookie from the bag. “Open it.”

Emmylou opens it. “ Door will be opening for you.” it says.

“You see?” her dad says with a big grin. “ You never know what life will bring.”

Emmylou rolls her eyes. “You are taking a fortune cookie to heart?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he says. “ The cookie knows.Tomorrow we will go together to the nature center, you will feed the ducks and approach the owner for the interview. And the door will open for you. You love to take care of the animals and this will be a perfect opportunity for you.” There is confidence in his voice and Emmylou is excited.

New Year

Year

It is almost midnight. Daphne pulls out her journal, not the old one but a brand new one in shiny cover. A precious Christmas gift from her daughter. In that journal every page starts with a unique quotes. Yes, this is perfect! She opens the first page to write her New Year’s resolutions. The whole situation plays like a movie. Imagine that you are the main character either in a movie or in a book and you wish to do some things. Suddenly towards the end of the story boom!All your wishes are granted. Just like that Daphne smiles as she starts to write the resolutions one after another and feels as if they are almost in her fingertips. It is no doubt that she is very determined and she may be successful. She pauses, her fingers caress her pointed chin,and then opens the old journal. There is a heavy sigh. She checks all her last year’s goals – she has achieved some of her resolutions in writing posts on refugee crisis, on women’s issues and on poverty.Then she wanted to do more volunteer work which she has not done in this year. The other important aspect is her health.Well, she goes to the gym regularly which is perfect although she ends up in the classes like kickboxing, RIPP instead of yoga or spinning. Daphne is head strong but her weakness is the sweet. This Christmas she went to the store to buy gifts. She had the list but strange thing happens as she steps into the store, mostly in the aisle with chocolates and cookies. So that day she returned with gifts and two big boxes of chocolates. She nodded her head in disbelief and the chocolate lasted only for a week At the end of the week the boxes were neat and clean like brand new boxes and ready to be recycled.The exercise will help you thirty percent but diet is the other seventy percent to be healthy that is her  doctor’s prescription. 

Daphne stops writing and leans against the cushion. There is silence in the room and it is so quiet that you can hear the hum of the refrigerator. A sudden brightness flashes on her face.  “Not to worry.”She adjusts herself on the chair more comfortably and opens the new journal again. “ I will start all over again.This year I will not get any sweets, sign up for more volunteer program and practice mindful meditation.” A big challenging smile plays on her lips. 

Daphne stretches her legs, then crosses her legs and opens the new journal.As she bends down to write the inner window in her mind pops open. “ Are you sure that your goals are realistic? You do not want to write them and forget as the days pass by. Are you??”

A deep sigh again. She sits with both elbows on the desk, rubs her forehead and sits with both hands on each side of her face.

Making resolutions at the start of the New Year is like the season for orange or blue berry. Everyday would be filled with false starts and high ambitions. She might even make a lots of progress towards the goal but ultimately she would always give up before reaching the goal. Daphne has a high hope that everything will turn around perfect in this year. She has to do something different. The entire New year resolution phenomenon essentially boils down to habit-making and habits are built over time. Her job is to contribute a bit each and every day until the habits are built. Daphne sits straight. Now her face is brightly illuminated with a strong hope and determination.

resolutio1

Wishing on a star

Hopeful

A little girl is shouldering through the crowds.She walks in the middle of all the legs, luggage’s and lots and lots of children. Her heart beats like a tambourine under her ribs, tight and loud.The crowd follow their paths pushing and pulling around her,paying no attention at all. Her breath comes in short breaths like Carter’s horse and she feels tired. She is in the crowd but alone. The air smells of sweaty fear.Just at the corner of a pile of rocks, her memory bag slips and falls into the ground from her shoulder. A lots of happy memories are there; lots of from her home, her friends, her parents. But also the sad and scary memories of running around with her mother, hiding in cramped spaces,  squeezing the bodies and holding each other.The memory of hunger; it grew insatiably; her mouth began to expand, its roof rose to the top of her skull then the whole head was racked with pain. Some people ate grass and garbage and she just drew her tongue and chewed on nothing. She fights the urge to reach down and touch them. But she stops.

“ Sara! Sara!, wake up!”

Sara opens her eyes., startled and gasping for air. It is middle of the night. She notices a woman approximately the age of her mother stands close to her bed and observes her closely. “ Tell me dear,are you having bad dreams?” She says with a warm smile. The woman picks up the blanket from the floor and asks, “ Would you like to come outside to the celebration? There are lots of kids of your age to welcome the new year. There will be lots of fireworks too!”

Sara looks outside and then back at the woman’s face. The smile on the lady’s face is wide open, sunny without a doubt that everything will be wonderful again but six years old Sara is doubtful. The rebel army killed her parents, her friends and took away everything that they had. Faith is a distant and a vague word now. She hesitates a little but changes her mind. As Sara climbs down from the bed, the lady takes a quick step and holds her hand.She has lost her right leg in a gunshot during the rebel attack.

Outside of the ten, in the vast open space the fireworks have started. Happiness, excitement and new hopes float in the air.Tonight Sara wants to dream again. She closes her eyes, leaning on a tree. Her prayer for the New Year is something different. “ I want people to be nice, to be respectful and to love each other. I hope for peace, just peace nothing else.”

peace

 

 

 

Image

Solving a dilemma

Conundrum

Olivia and Paul try their best but the house itself start to takes part.

The lamps dismount from their stands at the slightest touch, the glass from the frames start to shatter when anyone walk past them, the air inside the house  has acquired a poisonous residue from the negative things they have said to each other. Now the house is haunted with pain. One could feel it  the minute  one walks in the door.

They sit there on the white sofa unsmiling, neither of them say anything. A little colorless sunlight has forced its way around the neighboring buildings and lay exhausted across the floor.It is so oddly quiet, as if  the house is holding its breath. Both husband and wife are like two becalmed sailing ships carrying sailors from different countries who shout and curse at each other as they drift farther and farther apart. Sometimes they forget the nicest things that they do for each other.

Olivia sails past Paul, then makes a half turn and looks over at him in the gathering dusk with a genuine expression of surprise. An acute observer would detect the presence of rich nature, warm heart, thoughtful intelligent eyes. Olivia twists her wedding ring. This is the man for whom she fought with everyone to marry. Now she should try her best to fix the problem. She would rather find happiness in the quiet of ordinary things; a book, a petal falling from a flower or an extraordinary shape of a rock.

Miracle happens everyday they are rarely tallied. No one keeps the score.

A late afternoon in November. Olivia sits up startled, gasping. Her husband Paul appears at the door. “Is everything okay?” He asks irritably flipping the pages of a book.

Olivia smiles. “ I had a strange dream!”

Paul turns around. “During the afternoon?It is really awkward.’’ Paul glances at the clock. “ It is almost one thirty. You should spend time in your sketch or writing.” He evidently wish to return to his reading.

Olivia murmurs. “ Well, my dream was strange but sweet.She smiles mischievously. “ There is a handsome man in my dream and I would rather enjoy his company.” She hums a few lines of an old romantic Bollywood song and lays back on the bed.

Paul closes the book that he is reading and stares at his wife. “ How absurd and nonsense!. Keep your silly dream to yourself.” He walks out from the bedroom.

Next morning is very delightful.

As Olivia tries to cover the rose bushes from freezing rain Paul walks into the deck. “ Are not you going to work?”

Paul gives Olivia a helping hand and says, “ I have taken off from work to spend some time here.”

Olivia raises her eyebrows and laughs a charming little laugh.

Daring

Daring

Darlene moves back and forth between kitchen island and refrigerator, between stove and the sink with an insatiable energy. Her husband sits at the breakfast table with a I pad, trying to remember which section of the news he has not finished. He hears his wife’s monologue on an instrument.

“ I am trying to read the news,” he points out. But he lifts his eyes from the I pad.

“What is bothering you?”

Darlene wipes her hand on the corner of her tie-dyed blue dress and pulls another chair close to her husband. She looks out of her brown eyes from beneath her long bangs and asks,“ I have agreed to take part in a group performance  in a chapel in this weekend, but not sure if I can really play.” She toys with the music piece on her hand and says, ” I get so nervous in front of people and even I am not musical enough.”

“ Of course you are. Remember how you did not know how to play piano and then after practices you have started to play so nicely.” Her husband says taking one spoonful of oatmeal. “ Just like we used to say to our children Be confident, and you will do fine.”

Darlene is a little shy but stubborn. Her creative mind is always dares to try new things and to achieve the best.She has a clarinet, which responds much more readily to her breath. Sometimes she tends to be panic if any note gets too high. She blushes. Her cheeks suddenly matches the tint of her eyelids and the rose color sinks into her throat. The other day, her friend Andrea, eagerly smiling woman in long bangs, a tangle of gold and turquoise pendants speaks up in her music class. “ I like when you play with so much attention and you are really good at it! Why don’t you join our team?”

Darlene smiles. “ What team? I am a new learner, but I am not sure about a performance.”

Andrea arranges the flute on a wooden box and says. “ You should try. We will perform in front of a small group and we have one long month to practice.”

There is a little concern in Darlene’s eyes. She hesitates and then replies. ” I will let you know and thanks a lot for the suggestion.”

Darlene has made up her mind to play in the music group.

A cold Friday evening in November, the  day of the performance. Scarves, mittens, down coats pile up on the corner in the back room; boots accumulate under it. Cold fingers unfold the steel music stands, chilled mouth pieces are tenderly held in arms. Darlene adjusts her plaid pleated long black skirt and sits on one of the wooden chair. Her slightly protruding brown eyes intent on the sheet music, her nicely shaped thick eyebrows arched in concentration.When all are in place, a fidgety cough and a narrow giggle. Finally they hear “ one, two,three, start.” There is a unified intake of breath and the astounding manifestation. Darlene tries her best to make it perfect.  The concert is a success. There are happy tears on her face. She is proud of her bravery to perform in front of the audience. Infected by the warmth of the audience, the musical group join their sweaty hands and bow.

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Promise to stay

Ghost | The Daily Post

Around midnight Miles wakes up with a start. ‘Either a bad dream or I am thirsty. A glass of water will be good.’ He walks into the kitchen but he stops. A figure is leaning over the dining table and reading a book in dim light. The figure at the table does not move. He never agrees on ghosts. But he used to, yes all the time. His after-world is quite a different affair, a heaven where usually people do not return but he would say with a half-mischievous smile.. “ Only if the person wants to stay and protect the family like an invisible body-guard, then only the person comes back to earth.” He would say switching off the night lamp to scare his wife.

The figure is now bending over the table in a light blue night-shirt or white shirt with flowers. It is hard to tell in a dim light.Her pale face profile outlined against the moonlight.

“Fiona”, he calls , thrilling from head to toe and reaching out with his long arm. “ I am so glad to see you back. I missed you a lot. You should understand that I am not young any more. I need you here with me.”

The figure does not stir. Miles walks uncertainly towards the figure. As he draws near, he finds his shirt over the high-backed chair and his half-opened journal. “ Oh, she is not here.” He runs his hand vaguely through his hair leaning against the wall. “ Where is Fiona? Where can I find her?”

Miles is eighty-two years old and still deeply in love with his wife Fiona.He does not belief that his wife is no longer with him.

On Sunday morning, Miles wakes up with a determination in his eyes. He needs to find Fiona.His worn shirt stirs busily as he walks and his old shoes clumps soundly on the road. He walks to most of the houses in that village and asks for Fiona. But there is no answer.He is an odd figure in the sun and rain, in strange , unexpected places looking for his beloved wife. His dark brown eyes , underscored by purple half circles of exhaustion’ stands out starkly against the yellowish cast of his skin. That night he falls asleep on a wooden park bench. At midnight , the silver moon shines through the dense leaves of the trees and makes a silver pattern at his feet. Miles sees a feeble light dancing lightly before him. He leans forward. “Fiona! Is that you?” No one is there, just the branch of the elm tree that swings faintly in the breeze.

One early evening in November.The first flakes of snow clumped together as they twirl and flutter to the ground. “Fiona loves snow. She will be so delightful!” Miles murmurs picking up a beautiful lilac dress with white laces from Fiona’s room. He hangs the dress on one of the dining chair, and bakes a pie for his wife.  Fiona has a sweet tooth the size of a rhino tusk, blossoms like the desert after rain. Miles smiles as he takes out the pie from the oven.Miles is confident that today his wife will come back to him. He sits on the sofa and waits.Around eleven thirty in the night Miles slowly opens his eyes.He is still on the sofa waiting for Fiona. It is a moon lit night. A bright fierce little moon is shining, dimming the stars, pouring metallic brilliance on the  thin sugary snow that lay on the small lawn. He leans on the glass window to see the moon. There in the back yard, a figure sits on the empty bench. She has a long black skirt, a white v neck shirt and a plaid scarf around her neck. One leg crosses over the other and her foot swings rhythmically. Miles squares his shoulders, twists the doorknob and walks out. There sits Fiona. Her hair parted on the right, has a few silver hairs,while her heart-shaped face tends to be thin. A simple chain dangles around her neck and her finger toys on it. “ Fiona, you are here. I have waited for you.” Fiona raises her simple face and their eyes meet. A delightful smile flashes on Miles face as he slides to the bench and wraps his arms around his wife. “ You should not wait for me Miles.I can not come everyday. You need to let me go.” Fiona says with a quaver smile, touching her husband’s shoulder.

“ I can not live without you and you know that perfectly well.” Miles lays back with his eyes closed. A few soft tears escape from beneath his eyelids. “ I am too old to live by myself. Just stay with me Fiona”

Fiona’s thin lips give a slight twitch, but she makes no reply and merely touches her bracelet.

Now they are both silent, each looked unmindful of the other and yet full of an inward joy at being so close to each other.

ghost

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Lekhamisra

Lekhamisra

Hello and Namaste to my wonderful bloggers and readers. I am Lekha, grew up in one of the beautiful city of Odisha in the mystical land India. My paternal grandmother was a perfect story teller- stories of brave kings and queens to stories of freedom fighters, to stories on kindness,honesty, compassion, truthfulness. As soon as I learned to read, my marvelous adventures started through the fairy tales, the mysteries, the classics and the autobiographies. O’ Yes, it was lots of fun! Life got busy with my son and daughter in their school,library, music class, dance class, tennis, soccer, scout, debate...Staying active is very important for me. I have a deep affection and respect to Nature. After the children started their own lives, enormous time has poured into my weekends. I decide to do devout my time in volunteering. But still I could not satisfy my hunger and craving to do something more. One evening, I was reading some article on international issues on children, women,and on animal cruelty, which were very disturbing, traumatic and sad. It is very hard to see others in suffering. Life is more fulfilling and rich when you help others, when you bring smile on others. “ Be a rainbow in someone else’s clouds.”- Maya Angelou. So I start to write again. I want my writing to be a strong voice for others in distress; for the innocent animals,for children, for women, on global warming and for all other social causes. And I am thankful to WordPress for providing this wonderful platform to express my observation, views and dreams. I hope you explore the stories,enjoy and leave appropriate comments.

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