Writing 101, day 18

Writing 101, day 18, a map as your muse.

Wikipedia image of Burton’s Pond , memorial university residence for students in St. John’s Newfoundland. Newfoundland

The above is the picture of Burton’s pond, the building behind it is the residence of Memorial university students, in St. John’s , NL.

I’ve never been inside  the building but had walked around it a few times. I live very close to this place. In fact when I go for a walk to Churchill Square, I pass by this building.

I have visited the pond, it’s a small one where you can see ducks wading and having a good time, or so it seems. No one is allowed to feed them. But some do to see the reaction of the wading ducks, of course they come in groups to get the food. Who wouldn’t?

If you are a living human, animal, insect, vegetation, food is the most important thing.

Times have changed, there are a lot more cars belonging to the students parked there. One time there were only a few.

Right now there are a lot more parking lots  constructed for the students and faculty.

Some students rent places close to the university, it is convenient during winter when driving can cause a lot of headache, because of snow and  freezing rain.

…………………………….. 🙂

Tagore song: anek diner amaar je gaan

When my long ago song

comes back to me

I ask what kind of wind

makes it roam around repeatedly

The flower that left everything behind

Where did it find its scent

Where hope is lost

By which tune were you   able to awaken it?

The one who  lost its dwelling place

Your tune became its residence

One whose parting has no end

Your tune gives it the language of union

One whose tears are dried

Your tune brings it tears

You are the vehicle of its forgotten days

In the language of dreams in the distant skies!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

365 Writing Prompts: The guilt that haunts me

Share a time when you were overcome with guilt.What were the circumstances? How did you overcome your guilt?

When I was studying in the university, my local guardian was my parent’s very good friend we all called him uncle, he was a very nice caring person.I was very homesick in the hostel, my uncle was aware of it. Every Friday he’d come to pick me up from the residence  to spend the week-end with his family and then dropped me off on Monday.

After I completed my studies I got a job and continued to visit him. One week-end for some reason I did not go to his house, I called him and told him I’d go to his place next week-end, he said he missed me, he had bought all kinds of food that I liked, I told him I’d see him the following week-end.

Next morning I got the newspaper it was weird I felt I must check the obituary list, first thing I read was my uncle’s name, he had died in the evening. I went to his house,his daughter-in-law and the Grand kids were there. I felt very sad, I spoke to him in the afternoon, he died the same evening.

I felt guilty for a while but was able to overcome it with the help of my friends.

: https://sabethville.wordpress.com/2014/12/22/365-writing-pr…that-haunts-me/

DP Daily Prompt: Snapshot Stories

Open the first photo album you can find –real or virtual, your call–and stop at the first picture of yourself you see there. Tell us the story of that photo.

This is a picture of me, it was taken by my friend, Evelyn Baptist, here I’m sitting on the grass, it is surrounded by some shrubs and plants, this is my residence in, Holy Cross College, Dhaka. 

That day most of us were thinking of starting an autograph,where we could get our friends and teachers to write something and sign our names, Evie went a bit further she wanted me to wear a sari and get my picture taken to paste on the first page of my book. I agreed, if you see this picture, I’m really not sure if you can tell I was nervous in my sari,I feared the pleats may come off, and make me look like a fool.I always avoided wearing a sari, this day Evie was firm, she said, “you have to wear it.”

I must have borrowed the sari from one of the girls, I didn’t have any. I felt at ease with my Shalwar Kamiz.

This is what I wrote on the first page:

Dear friends, 

Use your pen and brains

And do not let me ask in vain

When many years have passed away

And evening shadows round me play

Then shall this book of jest and truth

Recall the memories of my youth

Dear friends I once again invite

A few lines in my book to write.

Signed : C.S.

: https://sabethville.wordpress.com/2014/06/01/dp-daily-promp…apshot-stories/

 

DP Daily Prompt: Escape By Ranu

Tropical Storm :       In Bangladesh every year we have devastating storms which are called cyclones.One year my classmate and I got stuck in the university. The storm started all of a sudden.We were very nervous ,we did not want to stay in the university building,the only available transport for us was the Rickshaw.We knew it was impossible for the rickshaw driver,to take any passengers.The wind was blowing at about seventy miles per hour. We suddenly made up our mind to walk and started walking,we would walk a few yards,then  had to stop because of frequent gusts of wind made it difficult to carry on.I cannot remember,how far we were from our residence.Luckily a car stopped by the roadside, to give us a ride,it so happened he was a male driver.We decided to continue walking.He honked and was calling us,we still ignored him,then I saw a woman,she opened the window, smiled and called us. Although we were not certain, we decided to take the offer. The man was furious he said, ‘You should not take a chance like this’. We were dropped off at our residence. It was one escape I will always remember. Also the good Samaritan who went out of his way to help us.

Three tropical cyclones at different stages of development. The weakest (left) demonstrates only the most basic circular shape. A stronger storm (top right) demonstrates spiral banding and increased centralization, while the strongest (lower right) has developed an eye. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)