Thirty-Minute Friend

Daily writing prompt
Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.


Ten years ago, on my way to college, I got on my regular bus, which was fortunately not crowded and had a few vacant seats. I sat by the window and started reading a book that they were teaching in my Literature class, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. At the next stop, a girl got on the bus and sat next to me. She noticed what I was reading, then smiled at me and asked, “Is that by Daphne du Maurier?” That was the conversation starter. The route to my college usually takes about 30-45 minutes, depending on the traffic. The entire time, we chatted without a pause. We talked about all the books we enjoyed reading, the authors we love, and I cannot forget the enthusiasm with which we would laugh and agree if we both named a book that we mutually enjoyed reading. We also talked a bit about our personal lives, I guess, but I don’t remember much about that. All I know is that her name was Hannah. I did not meet her again but the joy that I felt while talking to her was surreal. I usually dislike and dread conversations with strangers as it makes me very uncomfortable. I do not like small talk, I do not like listening to random people rambling about their life. But with Hannah, it was a two-way conversation about topics of similar interests that brought out the best version of ourselves.

It is strange how we can sometimes connect with strangers, while there are certain people with whom we can spend a lifetime together and still be uncomfortable showing our real side.

Sometimes, Just Drift Along

Jane handed me a piece of paper and said, “These just came in! I printed them out for you, can you please fetch these from the shelves?”

“Sure!” I replied and went hunting for The Four Winds, The Last Thing He Told Me, and The Paper Palace from the new books section.

When you are working at the library, you need to be quick and always on your feet. Working at a library has been a childhood dream for me, a dream job! Imagine being surrounded by books all the time, can a job get better than this? I was overwhelmed with joy when they told me I was selected for the position of Circulation Assistant/Shelver. It’s been three weeks now and it’s also the last day of my training. Most importantly it’s payday and I am eagerly waiting to be paid. After all, money isn’t insignificant.

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What are your thoughts on open-ended stories?

Dear reader, today I have a controversial topic to talk about – open ended novels. There was a time when I much appreciated open-ended stories. The mysterious cliffhangers would leave me wondering, “Oh what would have happened if he had chosen the easy path?” Or “Oh is she going to remain mysterious without revealing her true identity?” Or “Will she continue packing lunch for him as a mysterious stranger without meeting him?”

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Through My Window

A cloudy evening, light drizzle. At a distance, a man in a green rain jacket is out for a walk with his dog. Patiently, he follows and watches his enthusiastic dog sniff the ground, play in the wetness of the green grass, and run around.

The view outside my window is beautiful, spectacular. I’m thankful to cameras that I can capture this moment in a photograph. Which I am sure I will not find interesting when I randomly find it after a few days.

Things are beautiful when they happen in that moment. Isn’t it? Like right now the fairy lights by my window are on, I’m with my book and a pen looking outside and trying my best to capture this precious scene in words and photos.

Happiness is not in big achievements but in easily and abundantly available joyous moments that are special just for you.

Random but Genuine

In my childhood, there were no telephones, let alone mobile phones. My parents protected me with love, they did my share of talking for me, because I was a little slow when it came to expressing myself. But they never gave me a chance to speak for myself and soon I relied on them to do my share of talking. I did not have too many friends in school. My only childhood companions were my brother and cousin brother with whom I would play, laugh, and fight. They cared for me, entertained me and loved me. I would go cycling in the nieghbourhood and play in parks with dad.

Days were spent listening to radio. No television, no laptops – these were luxury. BUT I am glad I grew up like this, it felt more real like I was a part of the community. Never alone. Now, we are always seeking for constant entertainment from our phones, laptops, TVs and tablets. More than friends, we have expensive phones in our hands that fulfill our social needs but with no real friends during times of need. I am not really sure if this is good or bad because I seem to be caught up in it too. I often ponder on these matters and most of the time it’s in the middle of the night. It’s a wrap, good night world.

Year in a Blink

#ShortStory

It’s eight o’clock in the morning and I get a notification that my order is ready for pick up. I’m already here, wearing a lavender-colored floral dress and an extra smile as I stand outside admiring my favorite place. I take a deep breath, push open the heavy oak doors, and re-enter The Willowvilla. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed tea and baked food makes me feel like I’m home once again.

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Tell Me a Childhood Story

#ShortStory

The other day at a story writing club somebody asked me this question, “Think of a weird, uncomfortable memory from your childhood. If it’s some kind of experience, make it sound fun.” I didn’t have to think for too long because this one in particular is the strongest memory that I have from my school days and this is the story that I told them:

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A Lost Friend

#Short story

When I saw her for the first time, it felt like I had never seen anyone who looked so angelic. I stayed away from her, I thought pretty girls like her would not want to talk to me. We sat on the same bench in class but we never spoke to each other. Sometimes, when the lecturer dictated notes I would peek into her notebook, she would push her book towards me and smile. Even her tiniest gesture of kindness would touch my heart.

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A Stream of Consciousness

There’s always a time limit on everything.

Gone are those days when I could spend hours sitting in my room doing anything I like without worrying about where’s the food coming from, is it the day to wash my laundry, who is going to clean the house, wash the dishes, or who’s going to clean the cat’s litter box.

Grown ups need to deal with a lot of things. In a few hours that I get for myself, I need to think of making the most of my time by doing something that I absolutely enjoy.

The problem here is that I enjoy doing a lot of things. In one hour, how am I supposed to write, sketch, listen to music, learn a language, or do a course in interior design? When I finally decide what I will be doing or when I am just about to get into that mood to write the story of my life, time’s over. Or oh, last one, I mindlessly spend time doing nothing, totally waste my precious hour, alas time’s up!

It’s either time to go for a walk or time to cook or time to spend time with your partner, or time to study, basically it’s time to get up and do the household chores which do not come under the “me time” category.

The thing is we all put ourselves under unnecessary pressure to be over productive, I don’t know why I do this to myself, why we all do this to ourselves but I guess it helps us to keep going. If there’s no pressure then I will never feel the need to perform.
So, probably pressure is good at times.
Who knows.
My time is up, need to stop writing and attend to other obligations.

Women Will Be Women

I am a woman. I have had ups and downs in my life, I have been asked to sacrifice. Sometimes I do it willing, sometimes forcefully.

I have not been allowed to wear clothes of my choice, I have been asked to dress appropriately for my safety, I obliged. Well, yes I am not physically strong, I cannot fight a gang of morons. So, I covered up and walked with my head down because who wants to be an object of illicit desire.

Growing up, I have been asked to dress well, wear make-up, act like a girl and look pretty to meet the standards of beauty, set by whom? I still wonder. I don’t want my skin to glitter and shine, I want to be in my PJs and read books of my choice.

I care for myself I know how things work in the male-dominated work places. I have a voice which is sometimes heard and often times ignored. But, I am not lame to scream and shout, I am wise I will find better ways to get things done the way I want.

I have been asked to come home early no later than 7 PM because the night is dark and full of terrors. Hungry men lurking around dark alleys ready to pounce on a girl who’s alone, who may or may not be dressed provocatively. I have heard stories, watched the news, I am scared too and so I do as I am asked to do.

Some women ask me, “Do you know how to cook? How will you feed your man?” When I replied no, they laughed at me, so I laughed too. I did learn cooking though – not for a man, but to feed myself and those in need. Why didn’t anyone tell me how rewarding and therapeutic it could be.

When men made their moves on me and I did not jive to their vibe, they called me names. But, it did not affect me as I knew already that they could never respect my standards and boundaries.

I am in my 30s, I am asked when I am having babies? I understand you are curious and these are questions for my well-being, but reproduction is not a role that every woman needs to play. In a world already populated and polluted by humans, do we really need more babies?

There are some things that sometimes women need to do. Not because somebody has asked us to, but because we are wise enough to understand how the world works.
Sometimes the messages passed on to women are wrong. We have not been treated equally, but we know the right from wrong.
We are patient, we are relentless, we are fighters, we are strong. Living through life like everyone else, we do not ask for more or less, because we know that we are the best.