70 + 23 = 93

I submit this story for WRITER'S GAME group . It is an attempt to explore the process of assimilating a new culture... into a mind which is....old by age

   She felt nothing special when they made her sit on a chair festooned with flowers and other glitterati. It is her 23^rd year in America. In  India she spent 70 years of her life. She came to America when she felt that she needs somebody to take care of herself.

                  Sitting on the special chair arranged for the occasion she did the simple arithmetic, 70+23= 93.Her son his wife and children kissed on her forehead. Through the narrow opening of her eyelids, she tried to read everything around her. Hardly any space on her eyes and body was wrinkle free. She strained a lot to keep her eyes opened. She wanted to ask somebody to take her a little bit closer to the crowd of guests so that she can see them more clearly. But, her tongue remained paralyzed, impervious to her longings. She felt the pain of incompatibility between body and mind more sharply. She wistfully longed to come out of her decrepit body and join the group of guests who gathered there to celebrate her 93^rd birthday.

 

                  She looked at the crowd of guests. Half nude bodies of youngsters never irritated her as it did during her initial days in America. In India households, only children are allowed to wear skimpy dresses. Because, children are innocent. They are not aware that they are nude. But youngsters of this group knew that they are nude wherever their flesh is most tempting to their opposite sexes.

 

                  Her mind hovered around the concept of nudity. Her husband’s naked body fluttered through her mind. She wondered why that image popped up at this moment in her mind. It was in the darkness of closed rooms, he used to touch her nudity. Memory of nudity of each other in the night, taught both of them not to conceal themselves from each other once they are outside the room in the day time.

Their nudity inside the closed rooms paved the way for a divine nudity by which they were fit to enter into each other’s mind, soul and existence itself.

 

                Music in the backdrop never interrupted her stream of thoughts. But she heard some strange note of faint wailing which came as a discordant wave among the rhythmic beats flooding the whole ambiance.

                 It was a 4 year old boy, trying to identify his mother among crowd. Hearing the baby crying, the mother, an American lady looking 30 or 32 in her blue jeans and white T-shirt, with a wine glass in her left hand came out laughing aloud. She was not laughing at her baby. Her laugh was remnants of her enjoyment over a joke her boyfriend cracked.

                                

                          Stunned baby, on seeing the mother with a face bearing an opposite emotion raised the pitch of his whimpering in his desperate attempt to convey his grief.

                         Taking the baby in one hand and balancing the wine glass in the other, she kissed o its forehead and tried to comfort it for a couple of moments.

Then the lady hurried towards the corner of the hall where babysitter was dozing sitting on a rickety chair. Old lady couldn’t tune her old ears to the conversation between lady with the child and the dozing babysitter.

 

                       All she could see was babysitter startling out of rickety chair and grabbing the child from the mother. While mother’s body language revealed that she furiously berated the babysitter for  dereliction of duty. Mother stomped out of the scene wit quick steps. To regain her lost mood she walked towards the butler and emptied almost half of a bottle of wine into her stomach.

 

                                 Soon she merged in her group and one can hear her laughing uproariously ,struggling to content herself with overflowing excitement, as if , loss of even a single drop of euphoria going around will render her nervous.

 

                               Babysitter comforted little baby and tried to quench his heightened grief with the bottle of milk. After sometime the baby was seated in his cozy trolley and a new , huge teddy bear grabbed his whole attention and his need for the presence of his mother was tucked under the bottom layers of his conscious mind. He narrowed his attention to the stuffed bear and created a world of his own.

           

                          Towards midnight sleep embraced him. Now trolley is his cradle and the midnight din of caprice minds became a lullaby for him. He slept peacefully.

 

                    The old lady felt that , she also is in a trolley . The only difference is, the child is sleeping, but she is awake. She needs silence around her to fall into sleep.

 She is awake and it is not easy for her to  sleep without silence....!!!!

Reviews

[Nautili]

interesting story, especially the part where the Mom is preoccupied having fun and forgetting her primary responsibility.Although you do not delve into the old woman's analysis of that scene, one picks up on her displeasure of changes in society and culture that she does not deem for the better.

[Bhavya Kaushik]

Oh my..this was so beautiful. I absolutely loved it..it is indeed very interesting and thoughtful. I can relate to it to a great level..great work here.

[Wicahpi]

You entered this piece into a DRABBLE contest (100 words)
and this is obviously way more than that.

"It's not easy for me to sleep in silence"
Funny how we are all different in out idiosyncrasies.

[Ama May Cooper]

Very interesting a strange grammitical language not sure if this is intentional butit works.
A sadenning but happy tale at the same time, the old lady struck with a kind of empty longingness for connection lieing awake almost imagining what once was.
i realy like this piece

[Tara♥Undefined&h..]

Iteresting story. It severly needs edited. Grammatical and spellinf errors all over and a few strangely worded sentences, but overall very nice job.

[Kelley]

I liked your story Jenny! It was very descriptive and it made
you think. I like a story you can picture in your head.

Great work thanks for sharing.

Kelley

[Comatose]

Hmm....this is a really interesting story. The idea was very touching; well done. :)

[Phibby Venable]

i felt that i was inside the old woman's body, restrained physcially, as the
mind roamed free. wonderful work.

[The Analog Kid]

The sentences were a bit choppy, but I do like the third-person point of view used. There is a lot packed in here. Also, good theme of the old lady's struggle between a young mind and old body.

Patrick

[Samuel Ferris]

i generally like concept and the prose, ill have to read it more thoroughly though, to give you any thoughtful analysis. thank you for your kind words.