Hideout

As a child I would run to the nearest tree to hide in the green branches. It was my safe refuge– my hideout. Years have passed, and now I won’t be able to climb any tree. Even if I could, I would be afraid of spoiling my clothes, getting them torn by the rough bark, getting cuts on my hands, getting insects’ bites, being bitten by spiders, or worse –getting my nails scraggly.

This brings me to a question why do we change so drastically as we grow up?

Now my nearest hideout is my room.

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DAILY PROMPT

Hideout

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/hideout/

Jump

As a child I loved skipping a rope. It was easy to jump. My favorite pastime was climbing trees, and jumping from low branches, and walls. Playing with the other girls I enjoyed skipping a rope when you are playing against others –as to who will skip the longest. 

 I was happy to see a skipping rope in my son’s apartment. I tried to skip. My feet had lost their co-ordination. My reflexes had gone real slow. My jumping and the rope was at loggerheads.

I was alone, otherwise it would have been embarrassing if someone was watching me.

…..

DAILY PROMPT

Jump

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/jump/

Do you believe in magic?

  
When I was a child how I wished for a magic wand to get lots of toys and candy. As I grew up I came to know magic was forbidden in Islam. Those who practiced it were companions of the fire meaning they would go to hell. Certainly I had no wish to go to hell so that put paid to my childish wish.

I know there are certain people who do dabble in magic. There is a cost to pay. Their faces get ravaged in time, and in the end they only harm themselves for a little gain in worldly goods.

One friend in a spirit of mischief decided to give me a book of spells. I had not asked for it and it was a surprise. I kept thinking why did she give me the book? Did she want me to lose my soul? 

I took a look and there were spells for whatever one wanted to do. I took a scissor and shred it into pieces. I didn’t want anyone to get hold of it but there must be many more from where it came from.

DAILY PROMPT

Do you Believe in Magic?

You have been transformed into a mystical being who has the ability to do magic. Describe your new abilities in detail. How will you use your new skills?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/do-you-believe-in-magic/

Unbearable

Daily Prompt: Can’t Stand Me
What do you find more unbearable watching a video of yourself, or listening to a recording of your voice? Why?

I suppose it depends on who is making a video, my son-in-law FJ, or my son S. If FJ is behind the camera I look fabulous (I am afraid not in real life).

My bad luck! If S is taking the shots, I look nearly dreadful.

I don’t use makeup, so my video turns out okay. My skin looks unbelievably perfect (don’t get a wrong idea, it looks that way in videos only), but believe me my hair is a nightmare. My hair is more like wild horses which can’t be tamed.

The hair slouches onto my forehead. It looks awful to say the least.

Why can’t I get the hang of it?

One of my wishes; oh God there are so many!

I want my hair to look the way Michelle (the lady who cuts my hair) does my hair when she cuts and styles it. I think my hair has a mind of it’s own.

My daughter, and my granddaughters got the voice gene from me. I suppose it’s all right.

It was funny when the daughter-in-law N lived with us (my husband and I).
If I picked the phone the caller always assumed I was a child. Depending whether the caller took me for a girl or boy (speaking to me very gently), “Child is your father at home?” Or, “Can you call your father?”

If N attended the phone, she was asked, “How are you Mrs. R? Please can you call R to the phone?”

In the beginning I would explain. The explanation of who I was usually embarrassed the caller, so I gave up.

I would become the child, “Yes sir, please hold on.”

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/can’t-stand-me/
Unbearable

My Own Space

Daily Prompt: Writing Space
Where do you produce your best writing — at your desk, on your phone, at a noisy cafe? Tell us how the environment affects tour creativity.

I like to have my own space, where I can sit and think. If I don’t get time to myself, I do become cranky and irritable. It won’t show on the outside, because I am a polite person, but it’s how I feel inside me.

I think alone time is necessary to recoup one’s energy. Constant noise makes one more tired.

The noise hammers my head. Probably I am used to being alone from my childhood days. As a child I was on my own most of the time.

After getting married I have spent more time alone. My husband was in the Army. Military exercises went on the whole year round, and my husband would be away. The children came. Once they grew up they had their own pursuits. I like my own alone time, but I have come across some wives who are totally unhappy. Their constant refrain is, that they are bored.

I can’t think when there is noise around me. I feel someone is hammering my head. I feel suffocated, and I can’t focus on the work in hand.

I can take noise in small dozes only. In gatherings which go on for an indefinite period I tend to slip away after a period of two to three hours.

My retreat is my room, a Heaven for me.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/writing-space/

My Own Space