Tag Archives: apartment

Fresh Air

Back home the first thing I noticed was the stale air in the apartment. It was one thirty in the morning I couldn’t do anything about it. Knew I couldn’t blame Son for it too. He had been away from home most of the last two months, and upon returning for short periods of time was tired in dire need of sleep.

The next day I tried to air the apartment by having open doors, and exhausts turned on. No help there. It didn’t clear the air. I could take it no longer. I rolled the blind in my room, and opened one of the windows. It was stuck. I had to practically wrestle with it to make it go up a few inches. It looked nobody needed to open it before me. I sniffed appreciatively the air in my room after a few hours. It smelled fresh.

As the evening approached, I felt apprehensive. I didn’t know how the blind in my room worked. It wouldn’t come down. I tried to pull it downwards while afraid of damaging it. Son was away in Los Angeles. I was on my own. What was I going to do? I enjoy reading a book before sleeping. I would be on view to the outside world if I turned on a light. Thank God he was free to answer the phone. Normally I rarely phone , but send a message when I’m in dire need of something. He told me to gently tug it down. It worked that way. All right in my world!


While getting into the elevator, I noticed a man sitting on the bench. I had to visit my bank, and after that I was going to get books from the nearby library. It took a while. Son, and I were back on our floor, the man was still sitting there.

We had lunch, then said our Zuhr (noon) Prayers. We exited our apartment to go for shopping, the man was still there by the doors. I got paranoid. Why is he there? Hoped he wasn’t a thief observing who was in, and who wasn’t?

I voiced my concerns. Son said, “Mama! You are prejudiced to think like that”.


“Just because he is black”.

I was indignant at my Son’s assumption. I hadn’t even thought that way, and I wasn’t even that kind of an evil body. I had not even looked at the fellow properly. I had seen him from my peripheral vision, and didn’t truly know whether he was black, or white? He was wearing a hat. I was only concerned at his sitting there, because for sitting there is the lobby on the first floor which has a seating arrangement, and then there is a large sitting room too.

Son’s accusation had a sting to it. He made me feel a terrible person that day.

Traipsing Up and Down

The washing machine on our floor wasn’t working. I kept waiting someone would try to get it repaired. Till now nothing has been done. Two days earlier my pile of dirty wash had steadily increased. It was time for action. I loaded the lot into a bag.

With high hopes that the machine on my floor must have started working, I looked in. Without looking at the dial, I loaded it, put in the detergent, and fabric softener— put in the card — nothing. It was then I literally woke up, and realized it wasn’t working.

Time to go on to another floor. The machine was chugging. There were still eight minutes to go. I went to to other floors, trying to locate which ones weren’t being used. I got befuddled at this point whether I was.

I returned to the first one. The machine had finished its’ cycle. I decided to wait outside for the person to remove his/her clothing. I played with my iPhone —- wasting time. No one showed up. Dejected 😞 I returned to my apartment.

Our apartment doesn’t have a washer/dryer connection. I told Nola (daughter) to convince Son in letting me buy a washer. She said it was a total No- No. She says it might malfunction, and if there is flooding I might have to pay a hefty fine. According to her we should shift to some other place. Son says when we shift to our own home we will have a washer/dryer. Between the two I’m waiting.


Son, and I live in an apartment. It’s a huge complex, and in each building there are twelve apartments. Ours is a corner one on the ground floor. Son rented it, and moved to it when his ex filed for a divorce. Alone, he came after me to Charlottesville, and asked me to come, and live with him. He says, “If I hadn’t been there for him, he would have died”. It has been a traumatic experience for him.  

We have covered car parking. Son, and mine spaces are side by side. On the left side of my car is our upper story neighbor T’s car. We chat together when we see each other at the car parking. We have never been to each other apartments. We laugh, and exchange a few words, then she goes her way, and I mine.

Same is the case with the neighbors who live directly over us. We exchange pleasantries when we cross each other, they are going out, and I’m coming in, or vice versa. The top floor neighbor is a police officer. He, and his family come and go at hours at which we never really see them. We only come to know that they are there by their cars, and when their cars are not there it means they have left.

Son is on greeting terms with the rest of them, where as I haven’t been face to face with any of them. So this is our neighborhood. We don’t know how much longer we’re staying here. I normally get attached to places where I stay, and I know I will be sad upon leaving.



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Son and I were back from having a dinner at a friend’s house. I changed my clothes to those ones which I wear at home. I was folding my dopatta which you know is a 2, 3/4 yards affair, when I noticed a stain on it. Found out–it was a small beetle lookalike thing. Not wanting to kill it the usual way I flush away these pesky visitors to our home, I took it outside to release it. 

To remove it, I flung my dopatta outwards to shuck it off. Relieved that I have done the deed in tossing it out, I came back inside. I folded my dopatta, and that’s when I glanced downwards. The thing was perched on my shirt. Involuntarily I shrieked, afraid it would sting me. I flapped my hands at it with closed eyes. It disappeared out of sight. 

At the moment I don’t know whether it’s still lurking in my bedroom, or taking a stroll through the apartment. The only thing I want is that it shouldn’t bite me.



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My life is chaotic

Of that I am sure

Beds to be made

Cups and dishes to be washed

Apartment to be cleaned

Food to be cooked

Grocery needed

Do I have time to shop?

Now where has the day gone?

(Sheen-November 2016)




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So Strange

First Light
Remember when you wrote down the first thought you had this morning? Great. Now write a post about it.

This morning I woke up from a befuddling dream. I saw myself in a small, apartment on second floor with no stairs to it. I stand in the balcony, and stare at people down below.

I am wondering at how I had got there in the first place? My second thought was how to get down? I think of jumping down. What keeps me from doing it, is the fear of broken legs.

I woke up with the alarm ringing, telling me to get to the bathroom first before any one else hogs it. I forgot the dream while saying Fajr prayers. The dream came back to mind when I read the daily prompt, before going downstairs to have breakfast.

My dream is so strange, I am going through review

What no stairs meant, I don’t have a clue

I don’t have any options, I can say it’s true