To be a woman

 

 

          A fresh November morning sprung up displaying his moody temper. The sky, though blue and sun-drenched, was scattered with some snivelling greyish clouds that kept sprinkling their heavy tears on Saint Pier Neighbourhood for some long minutes. Lil, who left home with no umbrella, was quite dripping when she reached the college’ threshold. 

          She hurried in, waded across the entrance passage at a hasty pace, and finally sheltered under the rooftop of the sick room. She stood there for a while, shivering and rubbing her hands which turned oddly bluish in such nippy days. Then, having a quick look on her new wristwatch, she grinned, somehow proudly, and got her freshly warmed hands cherishingly into her pockets.

          The raindrops grew slenderer and then ceased to fall, so Lil decided to take a leisurely stroll through the school garden, as there was still about half an hour for her lesson to start. Hardly any students were out of their classes; the place was wrapped in calmness, and seemed to her unusually inviting and spacious. Lil enjoyed being alone exceedingly, and getting in touch with nature seemed to her much more pleasurable and profitable than holding company to creatures of her race. She walked through each nook and cranny of the garden, relishing its plain sights, untrimmed grass, flowerless shrubs, yellowing trees, and hoary antique waterless fountain as if discovering them for the first time.

          The school garden, being remarkably small, needed only few minutes to be wholly examined, and Lil thus, having her little mission flawlessly accomplished, led her steps towards the courtyard, resigned to take a seat. She came up to a weary arched tree, under which was a damp vacant wooden bench, and there, she remained motionless for a moment, reconsidering whether to sit down or to carry on wandering around. Settling her mind at last, she took off her black backpack, opened it with a languid gesture, and plunged her hand in there fumbling for some papers. She stumbled on the doodles that she had been scribbling during yesterday’s tedious lecture, and at their sight she heartily laughed, as if amused with the reflections of her own fanciful thoughts. She spread the scrawled papers on a part of the stool, cautiously positioned herself on the covered spot, and, tightly holding her fetish rucksack in her arms, sank into silent reverie. 

  

          By this time, the rainy clouds were almost wholly dispersed, and the mighty golden sun was gradually and gloriously regaining control over her vast azure province. Every now and then, however, some persistent solitary raindrops, after lodging for a while with the cosy tree leaves, bide their meek and welcoming hosts a sullen reluctant farewell, and jumped down to fall jadedly here and there like faithful soldiers giving up their lives for noble loyalty to their retreating sovereign. Some feeble leaves, seemingly not bearing the heaviness of a moving goodbye, willingly escorted the raindrops in their intrepid fall, and slowly, the soggy cemented ground was transforming into a martyrs’ yard under Lil’s eyes.

          In that absorbing autumnal masterpiece of flawless harmony, Lil felt herself to be the intrusive element. She somehow coveted the tree leaves and the raindrops, the sun and the clouds, the lights and the shadows, for the perfect concord and mutual sympathy they shared despite their discrepancies. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and ventured in a whimsical attempt to adjust herself to the mingled simplicity and grandeur of her surroundings, yet in vain. She had consciousness and conviction about the complexity and the many imperfections of her human self, and believed it to be unfit, unable, and, in some way, unworthy to melt into that perfect landscape.  

          The sharp clattering of nearing treads drove her out of her ponderings, and she opened her eyes to make out two approaching lasses, one of whom, though anything but small, was wearing strikingly high heeled shoes that held Lil’s dazed attention for a few seconds. The girl with the heels, obviously detecting the astonished frown drawn on her onlooker’s face, glowered at Lil and further scrutinized her from top to toe, contemptuously. Then, as if satisfied for having restored her pride by the gratification of her prompt revenge, she turned sniggering to her friend, who giggled in compliance, and they both carried on ambling towards the way out.

          Lil, judging her own bemused glances to be somewhat provoking and distasteful, endured the girl’s silly sardonic reaction with an indulgent sigh, but still couldn’t help feeling a bit shaken, a bit appalled and irked, not for being the object of indiscreet mockery, as to this she got accustomed, but for having to witness and cope with such rash cheeky behaviours almost on a daily basis.

          Exhibiting one’s peeping and snooping skills was, in fact, so in vogue in the school, and Lil, having this tendency to tog herself up like a rootless tomboy, was so often the target of prying eyes and the object of chitchat.

          In that day, she was donned in her old faded oversized trousers and a baggy milky hooded sweater, which, being stained with raindrops, looked rather squalid. The curves of her willowy body were quite imperceptible; something she had to make sure of each time she stepped outdoors. That, somehow, made her feel more comfortable, though not less exposed. Her hair was wholly concealed under a grey woollen bonnet that slid gawkily to the level of her thick eyebrows, granting her colourless face a quite Martian look.

          The bonnet had a felted hand-stitched flower sewed on one side, and Lil hesitated a great deal before wearing it, thinking it to be so ladylike and a very bad match for her boyish trainers. She would, with no scruple, pull the flower out didn’t this displease Aunt Norah, who dotingly consumed her time and eyes in stitching it.

          Lil was, all in all, in odds with the female creature that she has grown to be. She wasn’t ready to be a woman. She found it hard to be a woman. She hated being a woman. She was ready to do anything to screen her femininity, to conceal every trace of it, to simply forget about it.

 

10:48

October 30^th, 2013

Reviews

[Sarah]

Wow, what word choice. You really describe every detail of what is going on around her! Wow very powerful message at the end. I'm very excited to see where you will be going with the rest of this. You have set yourself up in this exposition to go anywhere with the plot.

[Eve S.]

I'm glad I could give you the feeling of wanting more of it, and happy you could get the message. Thank you for you appreciation, Sarah! You'll surely have a continuation. :)

Peace