Monday, May 4, 2020

Cut story by 25%

1.    Do a word count of one of your stories pretending that it has been accepted for publication by a magazine.  The magazine’s one stipulation is that you cut 25%.  Be aggressive and picky by cutting expendable scenes, words, and phrases.  Make your story lean and mean.

“Pink sparks? I got pink sparks. Out of all the colors in the universe, in the galaxy, I got pink colors?!” Jamie yelled in frustration.
“Calm your horses Jay, if the universe wants you to have pink sparks, then you will have pink sparks. Besides, it matches with your sparkly shoes,” Anastasia explained with a smirk planted her face.
“Really Ana? That really isn’t fair considering that Dad forced me into these,”
“Well is that my fault Jay? Your father has impeccable taste if you ask me,” Anastasia said, pointing to the sparkly pink shoes with pink wings fluttering with the wind. Tomorrow was going to be the day where Jamie gets to fly in front of his family and friends for the first time. By the way, Jamie hates everything pink.
“Why, thank you for the compliment Anastasia,” Jonathan came in holding yet another pink faux fur coat for Jamie to try on. Anastasia believed it was the fifth one in two hours.
“Dad, I don’t want to try on another. Any of the hundreds fur coats you made me try on are fine,” Jamie protested as he walked over to Jonathan.
“Nonsense Jamie, you don’t even know how many shades of pink there are in the world. To increase your knowledge, there are twenty-four different shades. You’ve tried fifteen on so far, only nine more to go!” Jonathan exclaimed in excitement. If there is a choice between a pink swan fountain or a gigantic pink ice Jamie sculpture, Jonathan knows there isn’t a choice. Both will have to be arranged immediately.
“Fine Dad, this is the last one,” Jamie said with irritation burrowed in his eyebrows as he tried on the magenta faux coat.
“Beautiful, absolutely fabulous Jamie! I think this is the one. Anastasia, isn’t this the one?” Jonathan squealed with delight as he spun Jamie around. Jonathan said this every time Jamie tried on the coats, and Anastasia’s reply was the same every time.
“Yes, Jonathan, he looks great,” Anastasia said, turning her laughter into a cough attack.
“Honey, you need to drink more water, you look so dehydrated,” Jonathan said worriedly as he came over to Anastasia. His wings fluttered as if it read his mind.
“I will go get a jug of water for honey. Oh, scratch that, I will make some lemonade for all of us! Ooh, I will be making my famous pink lemonade! See you birdies in ten minutes!” Jonathan sang as his rainbow sparks showered down on us, showering hope and excitement.
Shielded from the common eye, only individuals who had wings could see everyone’s wings, often called The Winged. When one turned sixteen, their wings automatically appear on one’s shoes. Every wing was white with the same shape and size. The great thing about wings was that it adjusted to any type of shoe that you wore
“Ew, this one is definitely the worst of the lot! I can’t even fly, and Dad is making me try on these dreadful coats!” Jamie exclaimed as he quickly shrugged off the coat.
“It’s okay Jay. All you have to do is practice. Remember, practice makes perfect,” Anastasia said with her soothing voice, hoping that Jamie will be ready for tomorrow. He has to be, not only for his sake, but for Jonathan’s sake.
            When Jonathan was fifteen, he had his day like Jamie to present his flying to his family and friends. He left his shoes by the front steps like he always did that night. Unfortunately, the kids in the neighborhood didn’t like that Jonathan was different. He wasn’t into basketball and video games. He liked to wear nail polish, bake, go shopping, and wear pink. While Jonathan was sleeping, the kids in his neighborhood cut his wings on his shoes. So, when Jonathan came in front of his family and friends, he flew up ten feet, and came crashing down. He never was able to have his day in the light.
            “I can’t even go up ten feet, Ana, how am I supposed to perform a 360-degree flip?! I can’t do this, I’m gonna go tell Dad,” Jamie quickly said as he started to jog to the stairs.
            “No, you can’t. You know exactly what Jonathan went through. You just need to practice Jay, please keep practicing,” Anastasia said, pleading to Jay.
            “But this isn’t working Ana. I don’t know what to do. We’ve been out here the whole day. Look, the sun is about to set. I can’t get it. I just can’t get it,” Jamie said, sitting down on the steps of his house looking at the drawing. Jonathan was furious when he found out we ruined his steps. He took them both by the ears and asked them why we did this. Jamie, in his rebellious phase, yelled at Jonathan,
            “We wanted to! We don’t have any paper or colored pencils! What are we supposed to do all day long Dad!”
Jonathan looked back and forth from Jamie to me. He was hurting, but he didn’t let them see that. Instead, he walked over to the steps, looked at the drawings, and fluttered away. He brought the new markers and colored pencils, his rainbow sparks making him look like an ethereal being as he perfectly landed on the ground.
            “I was saving this for your ninth birthday Jamie, but you left me no choice. Here you go,” Jonathan said as he held out the big bundle of colors to us. Jay and I stood in shock, not knowing how mad Jonathan was.
            “Well, come on. If you insist on having these drawings, at least put some color in them. Oh, for the sake of the universe, don’t just stand there. I am a busy man, you know!” Jonathan exclaimed with a smile stretching onto his face. Jay and I run to hug Jonathan, overjoyed that he wasn’t mad. They quickly grabbed the colors and let their imagination flow.
            “You know what, Jay? Go tell Jonathan, but you can’t use the stairs. Fly up and tell him,” Anastasia said with her arms crossed.
            “Honestly Ana, you are impossible, if I can’t fly up ten feet, how am I supposed to fly fifteen feet up?”
            “That’s not my problem. You’re gonna have to figure it out,” Anastasi said.
            “Okay, be ready for me to come crashing down in thirty seconds,” Jamie said, giving me the death stare as he came down the steps. Jamie focused, closing his eyes to block out the world. It was only him and his wings. He opened his eyes as he leaped into the air, hoping to stay off of the ground. He was successful as he rose five feet up.
            “Good Jay, now focus on your goal. Make sure your wings know what you want, so that you both work together!” Anastasia yelled to Jay, hoping that he wouldn’t come crashing down. He went up another five feet, his pink sparks showering down on me like a dance. He rose up another four feet. Jamie reached for the deck when Anastasia heard a ripping sound. Within a second, Jamie was crashing down to the cement. Anastasia quickly flew to him, barely catching him as she cushioned his landing. They stared in horror as they saw that his wings were cut. In half.
            “Jay, what the hell?” Anastasia exclaimed as she knelt forward to examine the destroyed wings.
            “Ana, I don’t know, did I go too fast?” Jamie said with a stutter. “How can this be fixed?”
Anastasia and Jamie turned around to find Jonathan staring speechless at Jamie’s destroyed wings.
            “Jonathan, I don’t know what happened, but we can fix it, okay?” Anastasia said as she walked over to Jonathan, stroking his arm with affection.
            With Anastasia’s touch, Jonathan seemed to regain his ability to blink as he looked towards her. His face was full of disappointment as he said,
            “Honey, you see how there is black sparks coming out? That means that those wings are ruined. There is a chance that Jamie won’t be able to fly again because it is extremely rare if another pair of wings choose a person.”
            “Okay, okay, but there is still a chance. Jay will get new wings. He has to. Jay, go put your shoes by the front door, your new wings comes when no one is around the shoes,” Anastasia said as she paced back and forth on the sidewalk. As if on cue, Jamie’s destroyed wings rose up to the sky. The wind carried the wings into the unknown.
            “Why couldn’t that happen beforehand? If I wasn’t going to be able to fly, then I just wasted an entire day of my life,” Jamie exclaimed as he kicked the pink lemonade jug across the street.
            “Honey, it’s not for everyone. You’re going to be just fine” Jonathan soothingly said as he walked over to Jamie and put his arms around him. Jamie protested at first, but then leaned into Jonathan and started to shake.
            Anastasia watched this horrifying moment and realized she had to do something. She could call The White Academy, where she could ask if Jamie’s wings could come in time, or if Jamie could get another pair.
            Anastasia jerked up, looking at her surroundings. The sun creeped into her room, as if wishing her good morning. She realized that she was dreaming. But she knew it was so real. She raced out of bed, threw on a black hoodie, slipped into her shoes, waited half a second for her wings to adjust to her shoes, ran outside, and fluttered half a mile to Jonathan and Jamie. She told herself again and again, “It was a dream Ana, it was a dream.”
            But the feeling that something is wrong stretched down her spine. She fluttered faster as she saw Jamie sitting on his porch. She nearly ran over Jamie as she said breathlessly,
            “Jay, your wings. Where are your wings?”
            “Geez Ana, you’re twenty minutes late and you’re asking me questions. Dad was gonna go and check on you” Jamie said.
            “Jay, your wings. Where the hell are your goddamn wings” Anastasia yelled as she saw that Jamie was only wearing socks.
            “Ana, they’re inside by the front door. I was waiting for you to practice. Ana, what happened?” Jamie said worriedly as he stood up. Anastasia raced inside, nearly knocking Jamie over again as she saw Jamie’s wings. His wings were resting there. Anastasia knelt down and stroked his wings. In response, his wings fluttered slightly, as if it was greeting her.
            “Anastasia, good you’re here, I was just going to check on you. Is everything okay?” Jonathan said, carrying a pink faux fur coat in his hands. This time, it was a creamy pink, like Jonathan’s pink lemonade. Anastasia ran to embrace Jonathan and nearly knocked him over too.
            “Honey, what is wrong?” Jonathan said alarmingly as he pulled her back.
            “Ana, are you okay?’ Jamie said as he jogged to Jonathan and Anastasia. Anastasia looked at Jonathan and Jamie as a smile spread on her face as she said,
            “Nothing is wrong. I just had a bad dream.”
            “Oh honey, that’s all right. I don’t mind your hugs at all. In fact, I would appreciate more of them in the future. Ooh let’s decide to hug every time we meet. It’ll be just our thing,” Jonathan said in excitement as he hugged Anastasia again, stroking her hair affectionately.
            “I wouldn’t mind,” Anastasia said as she hugged Jonathan tighter, making sure that she still wasn’t dreaming.
            “You guys are just creepy,” Jamie said as he started to back away. Jonathan pulled Jamie with his shirt as he said,
            “Son, you were born into this family. You know that this isn’t a normal family. It’s high time that you accept it boy and embrace your family. Literally,” Jonathan said as he hugged Anastasia and Jamie tighter. Jamie was flailing like a baby chicken as Jonathan laughed his evil laugh. Ana chuckled and hugged them as tight as she could as she reminded herself,
            “Everything is okay, everything is okay.” Because everything was okay, and everything was going to remain okay.

Cloud Sketch

The green grass swayed side by side in perfect harmony with the wind as Anastasia took her usual walk that she took every day. She could always fly but she liked knowing that she could do both. She loved that she had this routine of her walk; this was a blessing considering that she has moved five times because of her mother’s job. Being a pilot meant sacrificing your life entirely, never being there for your loved ones. Anastasia never knew what country her mother was In. Heck, she may be in Brazil for all that Anastasia cared. Her mother came home once or twice a week to get some new clothes and to check in. Sometimes, Anastasia didn’t see her mother for months and that was normal. Sometimes, Anastasia thought if something happened to her mother, she wouldn’t know about it for at least a week, maybe even a month. That scared her, but it wasn’t something that she couldn’t handle. She’s been living alone since she was ten years old, used to the loneliness that accompanied living alone.
Anastasia reflectively turned the corner, seeing her house up the street. Suddenly, a wrong feeling stretched down her spine. She stopped in her tracks, and quickly looked around her. Nothing was out of the ordinary with the little plump green bushes that were the exact same size and shape surrounded Miss Becky’s fence. A couple with their child were taking a walk like her across the street. She scrunched up her face in concentration knowing that something is off. Her gut was never off. She learned that in the past far too many times.
Anastasia kept on walking but slowed her stride. Suddenly, at the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of red in between Ms. Becky’s bushes. She quickly hid behind a trash can as she deliberated what she should do. Should she go after this flicker of red, not knowing where it’ll lead her? Should she just let it go? It was probably nothing and didn’t even concern. But something pricked at the back of her mind to go after it. After five seconds of deliberation, curiosity got better of her as she jogged to keep up with the flicker of red.

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Bird by Bird (pages 43-93)

The first quote that grabbed my attention was, “Just don’t pretend you know more about your characters than they do, because you don’t” (51). I absolutely love this quote because it depicts my problem with writing. Before writing I like to imagine my characters. Their flaws, hobbies, work, responsibilities, etc. I place my characters in a box and I don’t let them out. I don’t let them grow, and this is what this quote taught me. My characters will grow as I write my story. They will surprise me as I let them soar into the air and let them fly.

The second quote that grabbed my attention was, “Over and over I feel as if my characters know who they are, and what happens to them, and where they have been and where they will go, and what they’re capable of doing, but they need me to write it down for them because their handwriting is so bad” (58). I love this quote as well because it seems that my characters have a mind of their own. Sometimes I feel as if I am not writing the story; my characters are telling their life stories to me. I am just a typist who has taken interest in their stories and am voluntarily writing it down for them. I learned that my characters need space to do unexpected things that will make my story more interesting instead of me deciding what all of their qualities are.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Bird by Bird

The first quote that I liked was, “What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid, squares of paper unfolds worlds after world after world, world that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you” (13). This quote explains how magical books are and the endless possibilities there are with books. These small rigid squares can share the secrets of life or the slow destruction of a person. It can enlighten us and show us how amazing our imagination are. In addition, I feel like Lamott wrote this to explain a part of why she enjoys writing so much. Another quote that I liked was, “Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground-you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip” (27-28). When I first read this, I thought that I should read this for my mom and sisters when they think my room is dirty. However, it truly explains the process of writing. It’s okay if your writing is unorganized and you have thoughts everywhere with no sentences. The unorganizedness (I don’t think this is a word, but it works) is what helps us mold our thoughts in order for our readers to comprehend, visualize, and enjoy our writing. I feel like this quote could answer the question of some advice Lamott gives her students and what kind of attitude you need just to get writing done.

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

101 Word Short Story

The rainbow steals my breath away as I sit on the bridge, my life fulfilled. My last day here, and I have everything I need.
My sister on my left side, with her curly hair always in her face, and my boyfriend who never leaves my side. He will have to learn how to now.
Breathing deeply, a tear rolls down my cheek. Why, I’m not sure.
I close my eyes and etch this memory into my mind and heart forever, never wanting to leave my perfect life.
The one time I have everything I need.
I’m losing it all forever.

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Character with a Wild Animal

1.     Hair: curly, Face: small forhead, big nose, long eyelashes, eyebrows thin and threaded, mouth, big with Chapstick on at all times, skinny figure, shirt that says “Live in Style”, high-waisted jeans with Nike black and white shoes.
2.     Wild animal: Jaguar, body: strong with black and orange spots, smooth skin, sharp teeth, colors are orange, white and black
3.     These two characters are in a park in the daytime. The second character is the first character’s friend.

PARK – AFTERNOON

Characters: Syeda, Liam

SYEDA
Don’t turn around but there’s someone watching us

LIAM
What?

SYEDA
I’m gonna tie my shoe and come to your side, you come to mine

Syeda gracefully bends down to tie her shirt, cautious of her every step. Liam, who is extremely freaked out, not gracefully walks to Syeda’s spot

SYEDA
(standing up)
Now, causually look under the big tree

LIAM
(looks and laughs)
It looks like they’re bird watching Syeda

SYEDA
No, they were not looking at the sky

LIAM
Well they are now. Why would anyone want to spy on us? We’re honestly not that interesting

SYEDA
(opens her zipper to her backpack)
I am prepared if anyone dares to attack

LIAM
Woah! Where-

SYEDA
Let’s go

Writing a Letter


Dear Liam,

I know that I could have texted you, but I feel that this will grab your attention a little more than a text would. You graduated! I saw on LinkedIn that you graduated, and you are officially a nurse! Way to go Liam! I am so glad that you achieved your dream! I am writing you this hand-written letter because I have some big news to share!!!!  Of course, you know me enough where I’m not gonna tell you unless you reply. And your reply needs to be in a letterform. You know I like to torture you so do it please. I was deep cleaning and I found our pictures from Eastview’s cultural night. I have no clue why we signed up to be the hosts. You probably did that to torture me. Anyways, I’m sending a copy of those in here. I’m sure that you don’t know how to send a letter so go and tell your robot to do so (Google, Alexa, whatever you have). I miss you Liam.

                                                                       
            Make sure to reply Liam.

                 With hope in her heart that her best friend won’t be mean and accept her torture,
                                                                                                                                    Syeda :)

Friday, April 3, 2020

Blog Journal Two (Week 11)

Characters: Paro, 22, librarian, female, Chris’s best friend. Chris, 25, nutritionist, male, Paro’s best friend
Setting: In the library, Paro is closing, and Chris has come to the library so they can go out to eat
Conflict: Chris is persuading Paro to come to the ski trip he wants to go to, and Paro doesn’t want to
CHRIS
Come with me?
PARO
No, Chris. No
CHRIS
But why? It’ll-
PARO
 I don’t know
CHRIS
Don’t know what?
PARO
How to ski
CHRIS
I’ll teach you
PARO
What about work?
CHRIS
You can’t take
PARO
What?
CHRIS
A leave Paro
PARO
I don’t know
CHRIS
Your boss’s number?
PARO
No thank you
CHRIS
For God’s sake
PARO 
Go with another
CHRIS
I want you
PARO
I’ll embarrass you
CHRIS
I don’t mind
PARO
Seriously?
CHRIS
It’ll be fun
PARO 
I’ll think about-
CHRIS
Yes!
PARO 
it
CHRIS
My bestest friend!
PARO
Take these books
CHRIS 
Gladly best friend

Using $6 kickstarter

Setting: Interview Office
Characters: Mr. Interman and Shea

Knock on Mr. Interman’s office
MR.INTERMAN
Yes, please come in
Shea comes in and sits down
MR.INTERMAN
Hello Shea, is it? How are you doing today?
SHEA
(nervously) 
Yes sir, I am doing good today. How are you sir?
MR.INTERMAN
Pretty well myself. Thank you for asking. Now, let’s get right to it, shall we? You are here for the position of my secretary. I am going to go over some demographics as a formality. What is your gender?
SHEA
(confused) 
Female sir.
MR.INTERMAN
(Typing on the computer )
Just as I thought Shea. How old are you?
SHEA
23 sir.
MR.INTERMAN
Very good. Young enough to conquer the world some may say. (Chuckles) You’re Indian right?
SHEA
No sir, I am Pakistani
MR.INTERMAN
Oh. That’s not on here.
SHEA
You can put Asian for my race.
MR.INTERMAN
That isn’t right. Asian is for Chinese people with little eyes. My dear, you are so naive.
SHEA
Sir, I believe that Asian includes individuals from the continent of Asia. Pakistan is included in that. It is the country right by India.
MR.INTERMAN
Are you sure dear? In my 20 years of experience, I have never encountered this problem. What are you, did you say Paki?
SHEA
No sir, I said Pakistani.

Friday, March 6, 2020

Discussion Board Four: Inviting The Readers to the Party for Creative Nonfiction

Part 1:
The white dinner table was in a disarray as I stacked the plates and cups, unsuccessful in making a tower. The sound of water hitting the dishes informs me to hurry up and join my mother to clean the dishes. I rearrange the plates and cups so that an earthquake doesn’t occur, and half jog to the kitchen.
“Mom, dinner was really good.” I said, smiling as I set the dishes down. Like a robot, my mom keeps doing the dishes, ignoring my compliment. Chinese mothers. Always wanting to do better and be better. Compliments are like revisions in their minds.
“Mom, why didn’t you eat your crab” I asked, rolling my sleeves up to prepare for the battle of dishes.
“The crab was spoiled” My mother uttered as the soap made designs on her wrists.
“No, mom, I didn’t think so” I quickly say, alarmed at the consequences of her words.
“It was spoiled” Mother insisted, almost breaking the plate as she slammed it into the dishwasher.
“I knew the crab was bad before I cooked it” My mother said, giving me a sideways stare.
“What would you have done if someone else at dinner had chosen the spoiled crab?” I asked in curiosity.
Her eyes twinkled as she turned back to the dishes, the corners of her mouth forming a smile.
“I knew you were the only other person at dinner who would have picked the bad crab because everyone else wants the best quality for himself”
The silence became my best friend as it helped me interpret my mother’s words. Setting the last dish down, she walks away, leaving me speechless and the dishes sparkling.
Part 2:
I am going to work on building up the setting in my story. I feel like I jump right in, and by building up the setting, there will be more imagery.

Monday, February 24, 2020

Self Help (Week Seven)

How to live in Two Cultures at Once

2002: Be admired by your relatives and have your cheeks pulled to the extent that you actually start crying out of pain.
2003: Wear Pakistani clothes to show how cute you are and how good of a child you will turn out to be
2004-2005: Start babbling and drinking chai. Trust me, babies love chai.
2006: Start speaking Urdu and have no knowledge of English
2007: Go to kindergarten and be utterly confused, slowly becoming an introvert
2008: Learn English and be the cool 1st grader who knows how to speak two languages
2009-2012: Start bringing a home lunch and then stop. The flavorful smell of spices hurt the delicate noses of my classmates. Then, start seeing the vast differences between Americans and you
2013-2015: Adapt to the American world while your parents are staring at you like a hawk, too scared for you to become a rebel, as children most likely become
2016: Notice how you are never going to a sleepover or have a boyfriend
2017: Become the popular girl only to find out your parents can’t afford lululemon leggings or the expensive makeup – wait, your parents don’t let you wear makeup
2018: Become obsessed with American food while your mother makes so much Pakistani food that you don’t even eat when you come home, the ungrateful girl you are
2019: Start applying to colleges while your parents start calling your relatives in the states by the colleges that you’re applying to make sure they have spies wherever you end up
2020: Realize that all through these years, you have been looking at this with no solution, but the solution is right in front of you. Look at the mirror, you’ll realize it on your own.

Write a Letter (Week Seven)


I have a confession to make. But before that, let me give you a little context and useful information. The library. Full of books, magazines, audiobooks, VOX books, games, and much more.

Books are alphabetized by the last name of the authors, then by the title of the book. Then, children’s nonfiction books are numerically ordered with the spines so hard to read. Probably wondering why, I know this. That is because I am a shelving assistant. Meaning I shelve all of the materials in the library to their respective places. This means a lot of reading and taking double takes to make sure the material is in its proper place. This also means that individuals in the library (patrons) ask me questions. One day a patron asked me:

“Have you read any good books recently?”

I open my mouth with no words coming into my mind. I halt and pressure my mind into coming with at least one title of a book. At that moment, my mind was a trash can. Stuff goes in, but you can never really pick anything back out.

“Ma’am are you okay?” the patron asked with concern.

“Yes sir, I am. I can’t think of any books at the top of my head, but I will lead you to the front desk where they can recommend you good books to read” I calmly say as I lead him to the front desk. On the outside I was a calm employee, but on the inside, I was a complete mess.

So… yes. My confession is that although I work at a library, I have not read books for a while. Let’s not specify what a while means. That would be a completely different story to tell.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

The Dream Poem (Chapter 14)

I am frozen in place
Nothing works and everything works
This place seems familiar yet unknown
Where am I?

The numerous doors hold mysteries
Mysteries that may not be worth the risk
By the way, I am still frozen
Where am I?

The ceiling is at least 100 feet up
White crystals hang from the ceiling
Or is it a hand?
Where am I?

Frozen in place
Mysteries doors and crystals
What in the world is making me frozen?
Where am I?

Free Write (Chapter 7)

Why, the insolent cold pulls me back into my car as I battle against it to get my mail. I just want my mail.
Why, the person graciously opens the door for me as I whisper a thank you, trying to catch my breath.
Why, the dog rests its head on the car door, sadly waiting for his owner to come back
Why, the clothes mischievously slip off the hanger, happy that they are creating extra work for me
Why, the water bottle clinks and clinks with every step made down a never-ending hallway
Why, the mother loving reads the book to her child, teaching her that “Everyone Poops”

Actions Overpower Words (Chapter 5)

The cliff seems so beautiful

With it embracing the clouds

But I remember the haunting thoughts

Like a needle poking my skin

The awful memories of my enemy

Stifling my voice into the mystic clouds

Never letting me take full control of myself

The thunderous wind whirs me back into the present

Please let me dive into the unexpected

Because

Doesn’t action overpower words?

Chapter 11

The Meeting
The tan carpet reflects the footprints in the house
Of the three individuals deliberating over serious matters
The matter is developing
With the focus of the picture
Not exposing my contract
The print of the contract
Is rather magnificent
As I have used a colorful array
To persuade my clients
My uncles in their beige shirts
Desperately waiting for the meeting
To end, as they have dinner plans
Afterwards, ironically,
With me!
Excuse the mess of the meeting room,
I am on a tight budget
My sisters and cousins make noise
Like the engine of a car after delaying
Too many days for an oil change
The women are busy in the kitchen
They know we are exhausted
After this meeting
After all, I’m only seven!

What is a Word Worth?


“Kuthi, junglee, janvar, besurat, uloo ka patha, sewer ki aluad” are all benefits of being bilingual. By the way, these are swear words. When my sisters are irritating each other in public, we don’t flick each other off. No, it becomes a verbal battle. The benefits of being bilingual: no one ever knows we’re fighting. With a smile on our faces, we are spewing poison to each other. Of course, figuratively. This definitely makes a trip to the grocery store a memorable experience.

I think that being bilingual makes each experience a bit more valuable. Being bilingual means that a person learns two different languages and two different cultures. Getting a break from one can be a relief, but it is like living at two ends of a lake; you can’t be at either side of the lake at the same time. It is a struggle, but being bilingual can be extremely rewarding at times, like forming a smile on a little kid’s face.

Patrons are struggling with finding books in Spanish. The cry of help is evident on their faces, with kids running around and the parents look like they need a break. Their daughter speaks English, but it doesn’t seem like the parents do. Timid and shy, they whisper to their children to go play while they go look around. Finally using my Spanish skills that I have learned, I walk up to them and say, “Ustedes están buscando para algo? (Are you looking for something?). Their faces light up like a rainbow after a rainstorm. We have a conversation in which of course, I tell them to speak a little slow because I speak a little bit of Spanish. I lead them to the world languages section and let them know I work here if they need any help. The smile on the daughter’s face was all I need. I feel like I let her know, she isn’t alone.

Being bilingual means a person who is fluent in two languages. I wonder if that is an accomplishment or a challenge. Of course, being bilingual looks amazing in resumes, and there is even a bilingual test at my high school where if you pass, you can get recognition on your diploma. However, no one ever comes to learn about the other side of being bilingual. Being bilingual can be being scared of being harassed in public, being teased about having an accent when speaking English, or just being teased because being bilingual is different.

Walking around in the grocery store, excitedly choosing one thing that I want. The options seemed overwhelming. The different flavors of chocolate wafting their way into my nose, one by one. Finally, I found one that smelled the best. Or I loved its packaging. Either way, it was chocolate. Heading over to my mom, I said in Urdu, “Ma, me yeh vala le loon? (Mom, can I get this one?”). My mom replied as she taps an employee’s shoulder, “Haan, par mere ko yeh nahin mil raha hai. Kisi ko poonch na? (Yes, but I cannot find this thing. Go call someone okay?)”. My mom turns to me for translation to the employee since her English was hard to understand at the time. I translate and I guess the employee heard my mom and me talking, cause she pointed to that aisle and said while laughing, “Bread is gonna be in aisle two, can’t you see the sign? Wait, sorry I forgot, you both probably can’t read right?” My first experience speaking in Urdu in public. And was the last for a long time.

Why I Am Who I Am

1.     “Yeh rak tho (Put this away”).
2.     The spice rises from her presence. She walks around with noses turning toward her in curiosity. When she makes curry, the smell comes towards her and sticks to her like smelly stickers to children. The smell changes per day, the array of smells is spicy, sweet, salty, sharp, etc. But mostly spicy.
3.     Carom, Disney movies, sled, apartment, winter, chocolate straws, too many cakes, Bollywood dancing, Bollywood music, Texas, ocean, arcade, swing, braids, brat, curry, hula hoops, bouncy balls, hopscotch, bike, hot chocolate, Uno, twister, French fries, video games, park, prayers, books, education, volunteering.
4.     The long, flowing, black tresses leave me in awe. It feels like strips of my blanket, cozy and comfortable. Her one gray hair leaves her at a loss of words. It smells like fresh coconuts when I lay on her shoulder. The comfort of her hair is something I will cherish.

Monday, February 3, 2020

Chapter 10


Rapunzel
I have a special talent
That I bet no one else has
Can your hair become a pulley?
Or a swing?
Can it decorate your house?
Like ornaments on a Christmas tree.
I have decided to venture upon an adventure
My dream of going outside the tower
That I will accomplish
But another dream awaits me
The dream of becoming a hair stylist
I don’t want to brag
But I believe I have enough experience
Let me change the world
With my hair
And if I accidently injure someone on the job
Which lucky for me,
I am clumsy enough for that to happen,
My magical hair and secret song are always stored for future use
Shush!
Don’t tell anyone,
Let me show one talent at a time,
Otherwise, people will for sure faint when they see
How much talent is in every part of my body!