Waiting- A Free Writing Challenge

Parasputin made up the rules:

a) choose a topic
b) set a timer for 5 minutes
c) switch off your monitor to reduce the temptation to edit
d) write continuously, no edits

I obliged:

a) I chose a topic by consulting The Writer's Block, a little book of ideas interspersed with bits of literary nonsense designed to 'jumpstart the imagination'. I eventually settled on:

b) I set a timer and dug in:

The order in the pharmacy irritated me; neatly metred rows of cosmetics, aspirin, Dutch medicine, bandages... Everything was neatly stacked, nothing out of place. And the smell, a mix of people, medicine and cheap perfume; I could feel my insides rebelling against it. I take a step forward, a sigh weighing heavily in my chest. Winter evenings at the pharmacy; the queue stretches interminably long. The four pharmacists at their booths, like ticket vendors at the cinema, eye the clock with a weary eye. Seven o clock seems far away. A young child walks away on uncertain legs, sucking merrily at a tube of Gaviscon. His mother is unperturbed chatting to another woman, ‘They say no swine flu, elko kone hamjaaveh? My sister’s three kids go to school there. Aasia, the smallest one, she’s in grade five now, so fast they grow up neh.... Ja, she said only eight children in her class today...’ Her voice trailed off as she continued. The other woman, clucks her tongue and feigns the appropriately disapproving expression. I could tell she was not really listening. Her eyes seemed far away. She was well dressed, her court shoes peeking from beneath tailored pants, her blazer unruffled at the tail end of the day. Standing beside her in my ratty jeans and mismatched scarf I felt gauche. I looked at her again from the corner of my eye, admiring her poise and patience. She waves the little stub of white paper in her hand absently.

c) The urge to edit is overpowering but I enjoyed the exercise and have posted my effort untouched. Dignity is overrated anyway.

d) I tag Saaleha, MJ, Aasia, Waseem, Nooj and anyone else up for it.

No (wo)man is an island

I think there's some merit in being an island. An ignoble suggestion perhaps; and perhaps too essentially impossible. But there is some merit in trying at least.

Once we become vulnerable to others, once our happiness, states of mind and levels of bewildermint are hinged on other people, that's when there's a fuzziness between where self ends and others begin. And most of the time, I'd say it's a priveledged position but sometimes it's a scary place. We don't choose to make ourselves vulnerable to family, we're born in these circles and you spend much of your growing up adjusting your individuality with whatever it is your family is experiencing. But friends and lovers are different, they require a conscious volition, a permission, to matter to us. And sometimes our choice in awarding these matterings needs serious reviewing.

I wish I knew why. You see, there's some merit in being an island. A river island. An oceanic one would be altogether too pretentious. A river island; where the shore is a distant dream. A river island where there is only enough space for one.

But I think it would get lonely, and that's the only reason I haven't tried being one yet. But sometimes in some places there's some merit in trying.

In the words of a good friend:

There is a real world.
It's where assumptions can be trusted,
It's in your father's/mother's house,
It's at your sister's bedside,
It's at the river's edge,
The lexicon can move-
I'm not running.

And in the words of Vikram Seth:

...to friends who've read this, quickly
Advised me to desist and cease,
Or burbled, "What a masterpiece!"
Or smoothed my steps with sage suggestion.

Thank you for not allowing me to be an island.