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Saturday, 2 July 2016

The Beauty of the Ordinary: One Poem and a Story

Creativity need not arise from the extraordinary. Some times, the reality around us, just as it is, is all-inspiring.  This post brings us something like that. 

Juveria and Haripriya show us the beauty of the ordinary through their works.  

A Study in White

Juveria Tabassum


Death beds and delivery rooms
Disinfectants and doctors loom
A familiar, tall, white building,
Solid, sturdy, plaintively forbidding

The corridors teemed with people
The air swung, wild, with varied emotion-
Hopeless fear, boundless joy,
A morgue and a nursery- life’s original ploy.

Many a wheel rolled about,
Round and round, over and over,
The cycle never stops.
White coats, nurses’ caps, syringes.
Necks jeweled by just a stethoscope.
A sanitized environment; learned,
Faith only in the power of their knowledge.

Also,
The common clothes- those of the visitors,
Bloodied pants, a two day shirt,
Necks jeweled by just sweat and wait.
The white coats, their only hope
Held steady by their Faiths.

It is a communion of people,
A reunion of sorts,
The scales swing between hope and fear,
Here a life saved, and here a life lost.




The 18th Birthday
HariPriya
    
     It was the 25th of November, a very chilly night. The roads were already filled with snow and strong gusts of cold wind blew over the city. The city was cold and damp.
        Just like my heart, thought Lisa.
      Her  boots were clicking against the pavement as she walked all alone, on the empty street. She reached her home, surprised to find that the door was already unlocked. Her parents were home, was what she thought. She opened the door and the lights switched on, her huge group of friends wishing her a very happy birthday.
       It was Lisa’s birthday, and she usually looked forward to the day every year, but this time, she felt different. She looked around and saw a typical high school party scene. Her high school mates were everywhere, getting drunk, dancing to the loud auto-tuned music, making out and having fun.
       Lisa remembered how she used to host such parties and how she became the life of the party each and every single time. She remembered how she used to mingle with everyone and go out on drunken misadventures. She remembered how much she loved being the party animal.
       And then she realised. She wasn’t enjoying the party like the others. She wasn’t getting drunk like the others. She wasn’t dancing like the others. Hell, she wasn’t even smiling like the others. She saw the party in a completely different light. And from what she was seeing, she didn’t like the party very much.
As the party continued, she sat on the couch, a cup of beer in her hand, observing everyone. It was her birthday, and no one came up to personally wish her. Not even her so-called best friend.
      Lisa sighed. She felt uncomfortable. She felt congested. She knew she had to leave the place, and she did. She put her coat on, a beanie to cover her hair, gloves, boots, and off she went. She did not have a destination in her mind. She just wandered in the streets. She went to the park and sat on one of the swings, watching the sky.
      Lisa spent some time in the park, consumed by her thoughts. And then she started walking once again. She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not realise where she was, until she stood in front of a gate. She was at her house.
       She opened the gate and headed towards the door, and bent to collect the key under the potted plant. She unlocked the door and went inside the house. The house was empty, her footsteps echoing. She switched on the lights in the house and climbed the stairs, and opened the door to her room.
      Though the house was empty, this room wasn’t. It was filled with posters of different boy bands, a board full of pictures, the bed properly made, the pillows fluffed, the books properly set on the table, a pen stand full of pens, pencils, markers, and highlighters. A stack of comics were piled up beside the pen stand. 
      Everything in the room was coated with a layer of dust. It had just been a week and a half since the people of this house shifted to another place.
     Lisa carefully examined the pictures on the board. She was young and smiling; Lisa guessed they were of her sophomore year. She then found the pictures of her, in the junior and senior years. She wasn’t smiling at all. Instead, she had this gloom cast over her face. 

Lisa then checked the comics on the table. They were Marvel comics. She found a key hidden between the stack of comics. Lisa unlocked the top drawer and was shocked to find razor blades in the drawer.
    It is all my fault, Lisa thought.
    She then opened the letter she had previously read and read it once again.
 
  Dear Lisa,
      It is Maggie here. I’m hoping you are doing well and are happy. It is your birthday the next week, isn’t it? I wish you a very happy birthday in advance. I hope you don’t mind that I won’t be attending your birthday party. Not that it matters to you in anyway. I just wanted to tell you that you have always lived ‘the life’, Lisa. You were a popular girl, everyone adored you, and you ruled the school. But you weren’t satisfied with it, were you? You had to go around bullying everyone and hurting them a lot, especially me. You made me feel worthless about myself. You made me lose interest in everything, you made me lose hope. Good job, Lisa. But do you know what hurts the most? The fact that you were my best friend for 13 years, and yet decided to back-stab me, your best friend. People change, don’t they Liz? I was just too stupid to think that you will always be by my side.
      But were you? I’m afraid the answer is no. What happened to us, Liz? What happened to the promises we made? What happened to the plans we made? But most importantly, what happened to us? Why did we separate, Liz? What made you distance yourself away from me? Was it something I did? I’m sorry. I don’t really remember if I hurt you in anyway, but if I did, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to. You were my best friend. I wouldn’t hurt you, not intentionally, at least.
      You hurt me. You have been hurting me. And I think I’ve had enough of it. I don’t want to get hurt anymore, I’m pretty sure I’ve had my fill of it. People say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but look at me Lisa, I got weaker. I am the weakest. I have something in my mind, and I’m following it. No one has got a say in this.
    Anyways, I hope you will remember me and all the memories we shared, because I sure as hell am going to remember them. I hope you enjoy your 18th birthday and many more birthdays to come.
         By the end of the letter, Lisa was teary-eyed. It was her best friend Maggie. She was the reason Maggie decided to end her life. She was the sole reason Maggie thought not to live anymore. She was a murderer, a killer, a coldblooded demon.
       Lisa felt the weight of the reality crashing down on her. She fumbled in her step as she made out of her house. She was crying as she walked back to her home. She wanted her mother, her father, her family, Maggie. She wanted to be in their presence, and she felt sadder every passing minute as she remembered those good times.
      Lisa was so lost in her thought that she couldn’t see the light or hear the sound of a car honking at her. The car must have been out of control of the driver, because it hit Lisa, and she crashed down. The driver got out of the car as soon as it came to a halt, and carried her to the hospital to get her treated. Lisa was injured very badly and was bleeding profusely.
       The impact of the car hit was very intense. Lisa was losing consciousness. Her breathing lowered drastically, and so did her heart beat. She realised the end was near.
      And in the last moments, she somehow thought of Maggie and she knew what she had to do.
       I’m sorry, Maggie. That was Lisa’s last breath.  




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