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Archive for December, 2012

Homicidal Posts

Long time ago, I read this in a creative writing how-to- bulleted flyer, ‘Start with anything, even the chair you might be sitting on right now’. So I shall attempt to go homicidal on my procrastinating monster and start with the chair.
It’s a pretty non-committal chair if you look at it, does not make it any easier for me here. It is your regular textbook illustration of a straight-backed chair with ‘CHAIR’ underneath it. But the story it might tell you only if it could. 🙂

It all begins on a particularly bright day, the day felt alive, if you know what I mean. It was the day I was lined up to meet this one ‘suitable boy’, the alarming ‘prospective’. heretofore, I had ranted and raved about the ‘traversities’ (traverse+adversity- (personal sic!)) of a matrimonial mart but I was being dragged into it sullen and mostly rude. Everybody kept tsking at this behaviour, especially the ones who were under the illusion that I was a ‘good girl’ which automatically equates to charming acquiescence to anything proposed by the elders.

On this day, I was ready for him, he didn’t know what was coming his way! Wants to meet me, does he? Oooh, regret will be something that he’ll warm up to over the course of our meeting. I rubbed my hands in glee (every such apparent display occurs mentally of course- Ally McBeal has got nothing on me). I took extra care with my attire, patiently switching from one to another, until finally the family settled on the perfect coming together of colors, the perfect Abaya with the perfect scarf, draped in just that way. No matter the flourishes, I still had a chipped tooth to show. Like the static screech in the middle of a good scene, the tooth was a memento from an overzealous match sometime during middle school. I ‘Hah!ed’ with passion when I last checked my reflection in the mirror. The tooth shall speak for itself.

As I approached the designated hotel archway, I didn’t feel so sure. WHAT was I doing here? and that was the only intelligent string of words in my head that played over and over again until I was seated in front of the smiling lad. At least, I thought he was smiling, having most inconveniently forgotten the lens and being forbidden to wear the glasses, I just realized that the much angstipated (sic) meet was to be with a smiling blur.

I responded with what in my books should pass for a smile. I ahemmmed a couple of times, the lad wasn’t speaking up to begin the tirade as I had planned with a direct opening from the blur. I ahemmmed some more, clearly awaiting the demise of my well prepared argument. The blur was still smiling. Annoyance. Much.

I’d have to take things into my own hands then. ‘You had a few questions for me?’, I asked in what I thought was my best frosty voice. It came out sounding more shaky than I’d ever care to admit.
‘Questions?’, the blur asked in a perplexed voice. ‘Yes, questions. That was the purpose of this meeting, yes?’, I asked slowly, in my reason-with-the- toddler voice.

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