My Purple Dress

The one I am writing about, I  haven’t got it with me here. It lies in a suitcase in Peshawar. This time when I was there, I wanted to search for it , but all the boxes, and suitcases are upstairs in the attic. Short of climbing the wooden stairway, I couldn’t get it. Another thing was, most of the time I forgot to go get it.

I didn’t have time on my side. Whenever I thought about it, I would be busy. I would tell myself I am in a hurry right now, I will look for it in the evening–  in the morning, and so on. It kept getting postponed. Mornings — I was short on time, and in the evenings I would be plain tired. The only thing appealing was getting to bed, and going to sleep.

I had to conquer two things. First thing was to climb the stairway, then secondly battle the layers of dust which had accumulated in the attic. In a second the hands would get grimy beyond recognition. Whose hands are they? Certainly not mine. But the evidence would stare me in the face. They were mine, attached to my body.

I would climb down to wash my hands. Meanwhile if a phone was ringing, or someone was banging at the outside door, it would get my attention. I would forget about lights on in the attic adding to the electricity bill. Once I forgot they could burn to eternity. I only remembered on my next voyage to the heaven above, and would gave a thump to my head, telling myself accusingly  you forgot

Maybe I retrieve it on my next trip to hometown, and wear it for the summer in 2018.

DAILY PROMPT

Purple

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Meaningless

I meaninglessly wander in Walmart, while Son talks with a neighbor from his former neighborhood. From previous experience I know he is going to talk for a while, and unless he finishes his natter, we won’t leave, though we are done with shopping.

Telling Son I would be in the tables’ area, I look for a writing table. I badly need one, but I have been putting it off. I will be using it for two purposes — writing, and sewing.With the recent buying of a sewing machine, the matter has become some how urgent. I can’t keep removing my sewing from the dinning table when it’s time for meals. It’s really bothersome.

The ones available are not to my liking. I will look for it somewhere else, when next time Son is available to go with me to the shops. Meanwhile I wait for him to finish his talks, and idly look at the merchandise trying to occupy myself.

DAILY PROMPT

Meaningless

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An Ordinary Life


An ordinary life I am living

And that’s what I do

Son has left a load of washing

I have to take care of it too

The day begins with staring into the freezer

Cooking I have to do

What’s for lunch, what’s for dinner

I have to tax my brain to think what to do

The day go by with cleaning, and washing

Leisure hours are few

Sometimes it’s tiresome, and repetitive 

But other times it’s wonderful too

(Sheen-March2017)

DAILY PROMPT

Ordinary

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Symptom


Symptoms of cold, Son achoos around the house. The germs gleefully trail in the air ready to strike any human object in the vicinity. They find me easily enough, cause our apartment is so small, and I am the unwilling victim. Son is forgetful. He nevers covers his nose into his elbow when he sneezes, and often I am the person handing him the tissues to clean his nose.

Have suggested to him to wear a mask when he goes to the nearby mosque for his prayers. That should hold the germs at bay, but it seems mother’s suggestions fall on deaf ears. The plethora of nasty, cold germs readily follows him home to me, and I get infected in turn. Dirty tissues abound in my bedroom, and my nose is redder than the proverbial Randolph who drives Santa around.

That’s one reason I open doors, and windows to get fresh air in the morning to waft in.

DAILY PROMPT

Symptom

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Minimal

Today I discovered the minimal style of selecting three flowers, and a little greenery at three different heights in three different vases on a mirrored plate to create a minimal flowers arrangement. Cool, isn’t it?

At home in Peshawar (not here), I have acquired over a period of time, two (if I remember correctly) sets of three each different vases. I didn’t purchase them, but are gifts from friends. I never knew what to do with them, except to arrange them on a mantelpiece collecting dust. Whenever I go back the first two weeks are spent feverishly cleaning, washing the various knick knacks, and removing the clingy dust.

Maybe next time I am over there I will try the minimal flower arrangement. When dear husband was alive, I would ask his permission to cut a few of his beloved roses from the front garden of roses he created. I needed them for flower arrangement in the sitting area, or the dinning table. I was minimalist in my approach. I did it only when company was expected, or it was a special occasion.

In the beginning it was a total Nahna. He couldn’t stomach the idea. Gradually he relented to let me cut a few of them. Now the roses have vanished as he did too.

DAILY PROMPT

Minimal

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Label


When looking for fish oil capsules, or Vitamin C, I look at the label to find out that it doesn’t contain gelatin. Recently the cache I had hoarded, dwindled to zero. I had reminded Son time, and again, but as usual he has his own priorities. I dislike going on Amazon to order them, and for a time it looked like I would have to resort to doing so.

As for myself, I kept looking in isles of the shops we most frequent, but to no avail. They were available in every shop with gelatin in them, and what I wanted was –no gelatin. Why they are not for sale here in Houston? I have no idea, because else where they are readily available. Only in Houston it is an impossible feat.

Luckily I remembered that the last bottles of  Vit C were bought in Krogar in Charlottesville, VA. Asked Son to guide me to Krogar here.The previously bought label wasn’t there, but lucky for me I finally saw what I wanted hidden behind a host of other ones. I grabbed the last two on the shelf. They must have been waiting for me to come find them.

DAILY PROMPT

Label

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