Story of a lost journalist

August 26, 2006

Hmm just a passing note..

Filed under: My Musing Moments — Cris @ 19:09

Hmmm dealing with people – different kinds of them. I have decided to master that. I want to stop getting upset at whatever some people say, stop getting irritated at whatever some other people say and well the list goes on.
This should be an easy thing. (Hey I need to encourage myself! I am starting on a mission here).

So, the people. Let them do what they want- tease you, harass you, make fun of you, do all things to get you upset- all you need to do is be nice- be a good person. Dont take anything bad. Most of the times people dont mean half the things they say. They are not all saddists. They either do it for fun, or do it in a bad mood.
But when you know you cant deal with people who do things knowing its wrong and has absolutely no guilt about repeating them, well you just stay away. Hatred could be an unavoidable feeling, but you must best try not to grow any such feelings. Just staying away helps a lot.

Well thats dealing with such kind. Now the other not-bad people. Never make a judgement on a one-time situation. Or on many-times either if you know the person is good at heart. Leave it at that. Some talk that way; that doesnt mean they are bad people. If you are a good friend, you should only take everything with a smile.

Well thats all. There is no need to talk about good people. They probably find it hard to handle people like me! Heheh! Anyway! Thanks for listening Mr Blog! Now I gotta go I really gotta go (isnt that some song? Cocco Jumbo?)

August 17, 2006

To my dear daughter…

Filed under: Fiction — Cris @ 18:56

It seems like yesterday I found that the yellow frock I got for her was too large. She was so tiny. She always was. Atleast it seemed that way to me.
Flashes crossing my mind as I think of her now…

I distinctly remember her 10th birthday.. She had worn a navy blue frock I got for her on the previous day. I felt she seemed unhappy that day. I thought it to be some kind of childish thing. But later when she confided in me I was a bit taken aback.
“Momma I have been thinking.. When someone says he loves you a lot, he may not be sure of it right? Cause he might change his mind later..”
“Dear is this about a boy? Now my dear you are really too young to even be talking about this..”
“No Mom it isnt about a boy. It is about all humans. And anyway I am never going to have a boy friend.”
“Whys that”
“Boys are really kids Mom!”
Haha. It was good to hear a childish reply in the end. But sigh she is so right! Not just boys! All men are!

That was the last birthday I got to choose a dress for her. She wouldnt let me get clothes for her after that! Sigh children grow up so fast…

The next thing that comes to my mind … oh I felt so insulted that day.. but I should have known better than to kiss the forehead of a 13 year old girl outside her school… She pushed me away and ran away.. I felt horrible… She later came to my room, cried a lot and kissed me lots… She said lots of sorrys… in the end she told me “But dont ever do that again Mom!”. I laughed…

Just at a stage when I thought she is not talking as much as a girl should talk to a mother, she came running to my room weeping like a baby one day. She must have been about 14 then. Should check my diary. This time I thought it should be a boy no doubt. But I was wrong..
“Oh Mom its so cruel…”
“What my dear what happened”
“Its horrible Mom its horrible..”
I let her cry on my lap for sometime.. It took her a while to speak.. in between her sobs… I felt so sorry for her
“The poor kids Mom..all those poor kids…”
“Kids? What kids?”
“At the orphanage.. We were taken there from school today… I felt so horrible Mom… They have nothing to eat.. nothing to wear.. Oh Mom its awful…”
She started crying again…Suddenly I felt a deep sense of pride… My daughter was growing up into a wonderful girl…

I knew she was seeing someone at 17… I hated it when she talked in whispers over phone for long hours.. I could sometimes hear giggles.. I so wished I could change myself into one of her girl friends to whom she seemed to confide everything.. It pained me that I wasnt my daughter’s best friend…
I guess I forgot I was a teenager once… I simply wanted to know everything that was happening in my daughter’s life.. That doesnt make me a nosey parker does it?

But she never kept that distance girls keep from their mothers during adoloscence. She was always right next to me… she told me things.. I never felt I didnt know my daughter well enough… I knew what had to be known.. even when she didnt tell me everything…

I had trust in her. I knew she was clear in whatever she was doing. So when she told me about adopting a kid from orphanage I didnt say a word against it. She was just 20 at the time.
Later she told me about her plan to open a kind of nursery for little kids. I knew she was doing the right thing again.
I knew she contributed as much as she can to orphanages now and then. She never bothered to tell anyone about it.
My daughter was doing big things…

She is 23 now.. And tomorrow my daughter is getting married. She is going away from this home.. to a world of her own.. I knew I was happy for her… But I suddenly felt lonely… She was always in a different world.. She cared for everyone… With tears blurring my vision, I found myself wanting to be that kid she was raising.. I found myself wishing I were my daughter’s daughter..

August 13, 2006

And she never woke up…

Filed under: Fiction — Cris @ 10:16

I am hungry. There is no way I could have food now. So I decided to write.
“Comin Mom”
Mom calls me for anything and everything. I mostly ignore them. Many times I had to reach her bed, and get beaten up for disturbing her in her “meditation”! She will say she never called me and she doesnt even like seeing my face. She got worse after Saif went away. That happened last year. Maybe she learnt all the bullying stuff from Ruther. Ruther is my father. But I call him Ruther. Thats how he wanted me to call. I have always wondered if he is my step father. Only a step father could hate a child so. Atleast thats what I thought. Father or no father I am not fond of him. I know those arent the exact words that say my feelings for him. But Father Benedict tells me not to say anything bad about him. Or anyone else for that matter. I like Father Benedict. He is a nice man. He taught me to read and write. Too bad he cannot marry or I’d surely marry him. He laughs when I say that. Maybe he thinks I have a boy friend. Nancy has 2, Lilly has 1. Maybe when I become 13 I too will have a few. I am 11 now.

“Linsaaaa where you girl?”
Thats Ruther. He sounds quite drunk. But it is alright he wont find me here. He never comes to this corner. We have 2 rooms in our house. Its Mr Olsen’s house. He has another big house now. Mom and Ruther only use the first room. The rest of us, we are 4 in all use this one. Only Ruther has a bed. Even when Mom got sick he wouldnt let her have it. She lies in the floor all day. Poor Mom. Sometimes I feel sorry for her. Maybe she turned this way after marrying Ruther. She must have been a nice little girl once.

Nancy is the eldest. She is 15. She is always talking about boys. I think these boys get food for her cause she never says she is hungry. These days she doesnt join us for work. Lilly turned 13 last month. She made her first boy friend the same day. Rolf is kind of cute. He smiles at me when he sees me. The 2 of them are nice. When they get lime juice from Mrs Cooper, they share it with me. Mrs Cooper is a kind old lady who lives near Father Benedict. She gave me most of the clothes I have. She promised me that one day she would actually get me a real new dress all for myself. Wow. Imagine that! Having a new dress!

Saif is my twin. I dont know where he is now. He left us one day and never came back. Maybe someone took him to a nice school and gave him good food and clothes. I know that he will come to take me with him one day. And then I will go to school too.

Work these days is making me real tired. I vomitted blood a couple of times last week. They make us lift all those heavy stuff. These things are getting heavier each day. I wish I could go baby sitting like Dorothy. Dorothy is Mrs Cooper’s daughter. She goes to houses and looks after little kids. That would be so nice. I love little kids. But people dont let me baby-sit. I guess I am too dirty. They wouldnt want their cute looking babies dirty, playing with me. I dont want that either. So I forgot all about baby sitting.

I got this pen and notebook from Father Benedict. He told me if he were a little richer he would have taken me to school. He says I write well. Ruther doesnt like me writing. Thats why I have to hide this in here. Last week Ruther tore all that I wrote. There were a couple of poems I had written to gift Father Benedict. When I said that he beat me harder.
I wish I could run away.

Father Benedict took me to a doctor today when I told him about vomitting blood. The doctor looked sorry. He talked about how bad it is that young kids have to suffer like this in our country. After coming back, Father Benedict hugged me and kissed me on my forhead and I am sure I saw him cry. He told me not to work after this. He said he will come to take me with him. I am not sure he meant that. I asked him why and he said I am sick and I must have a good life for once. “Before you…”, he said. He didnt complete what he said. He had tears in his eyes. He turned back and walked away.

Poor Father Benedict. He must be sad about something. Whatever it is, I hope I could help him cheer up. I am tired. I am going to sleep now.

August 5, 2006

Tereasa’s story – part 2

Filed under: Fiction — Cris @ 10:36

She set out of the home. She had no idea where to go but it was a really nice day to be sitting home. It started raining. The day was getting better. She felt she had to sing loudly. She looked up at the sky and let the drops fall on her face. She tried to keep her eyes open and laughed when they kept blinking. She shook her head and let her long hair sway around. She walked singing a song to herself, blind to all the stares and deaf to all the whispers that went around her.

Uff… ohhh do all the dreams need to end with this bang! Of course they do when I make it a point to fall down and hit the floor everytime. Maybe some day I will be as happy as I was in that dream. But right now I was just Tereasa Sally Cooper who was not good-looking, had no money, no boy friend, nothing. I looked at the violet dress I had worn yesterday to get Kevin’s attention.. All in vein. I was always going to be a glasses-wearing geek no boy would ever want to date. What the hell! Life wasnt just about boys!

“Dian Dian”
Dian came running with her Barbie.
“What are you doing?”
“Gee Terry I was playing with Michelle”
“Who is Michelle? Your new doll?”
“No she is the girl next door, Kevin’s little sister”
“Ohh”. Kevin’s sister. Now she wasnt just Michelle, the girl next door. I saw the girl. She was as pretty as her brother. even Dian had company. I went and washed my face. I kept looking at my desperate face in the mirror. I felt like consoling her! What a weird thought! There appeared Kevin’s face behind mine. Huh? This wasnt a movie. I turned to see Kevin standing in our living room!

“Err hullo. Is Mich here?”
I blinked.
“Michelle, my sis. Mom asked me to pick her up”
Michelle came running, Dian following her.
“Uhh Kevin can Dian come too please please. ”
“Sure why not”
He was about to turn. Then he stopped and added “Err you could come too Tereasa”
Maybe I fell in love with this new blinking game I seemed to have come up with. Cause I neither moved, nor said a word. I kept blinking.
“Oh come on Terry dont just stand there. Lets go it will be fun”. Dian sounded excited.
I had to brush my teeth. Sheesh it was 10. What will Kevin think of me.
“Err I just woke up”

“Ohh…alright.” Was there a trace of disappointment? “You can drop in when you are ready then. See ya later, err Terry”.
She heard them go.
Terry? He called me Terry? Grrr Dian!!!

This wasnt easy. With David, things seemed easier. But now I am 19. I need to be confident. I need to look good. I cant wear the violet dress again. It didnt prove good. Or did it? Had he come cause he thought I looked good?
I finally wore a jeans and pink T Shirt and got out of the house. Atleast pink said its feminine. I could hear voices in my head “you are ugly you are ugly”. This was just my inferiority complex. Hmph!
Kevin’s house was nice. I never went there before. Kevin talked a lot. I felt odd. Somehow I couldnt talk as much. I did more listening. And then he said the most horrible thing ever.
“You know what? I really like that girl Stacey. She a friend of yours?”
The blinks were back. Noooo this couldnt be happening.Wake up please this has gotta be a nightmare!
I found myself answering.
“Yea kind of”
“Do you think you could introduce me or something. I am not good in starting conversations. Heheh somehow it was easy with you. You’d make a great pal Terry”

Sigh! Terry again! And yes I make a great pal! A pal! A friend! He doesnt even seem to realise I am a girl! A g-i-r-l! I managed a smile. I didnt cry after going home. I was miserable, diappointed. But I wasnt really sad. Just angry and frustrated. That doesnt make it any better I know. But it feels good to write all this anyway. And tomorrow after introducing lover boy to Ms Beautiful Face I might as well go jump into a well! Where is my self respect!
From somewhere inside my mind a tinge of hope said “It will get better, it will”. I listened to it and shut my eyes to sleep. It was a long day.

(To be continued)

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