Writing 101 Day Fourteen: To Whom It May Concern

Today’s Prompt: Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29.What’s the word that jumps off the page? Use this word as your springboard for inspiration.

Today’s twist: Write the post in the form of a letter.

Dear Mother,

It has been a while since I saw you and talked to you. I hope you are well, I wanted you to visit me to see where I live.The winters here are very cold, it’s the month of April, I still have to turn up the heat in the house.

Today the skies are overcast with prediction of rain in the forecast. It’s not the kind of rain we had back in Comilla.

You prayed for rain so we could cool off and sing Tagore’s song : Rain is falling drip drop, the road is overflowing. Here rain means cold, we cannot go out, there is a chance it may be slippery.

You cannot imagine what rain here is like esp. freezing rain, the branches of trees are covered with ice, if it continues too long, there is fear that we may lose power(electricity) and it will be dark all over.

We will have to wait for the power to come back ,to be able to warm up or cook food.

With the loss of power, we lose heat and the house is cold.

Here we do not pray for rain esp. freezing rain, we pray for it to stop.

I think I’ve painted a very dark image of rain, but we have learned to be patient.

I’d like to go and see you, there is one problem, it’s too far away. I get tired of sitting on the uncomfortable seats in the plane. They have increased the number of seats we are unable to stretch our legs. There is no room to walk on the aisles, they are too narrow.

Please give my love to everyone, and my special love is for you. All your life you worked so hard for us and now we can’t even come to see you and personally thank you for all the days you’ve spent taking care of us.

Love you Mom.

Your daughter,

Ranu

DP Daily Prompt: Memory on the Menu

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Which good memories are better–the recent and vivid ones, or those that time has covered in a sweet haze?

I like the memories that time has covered in a sweet haze. When I was very young,life seemed simple, I woke up early in the morning, according to mom sleeping late was a devilish habit. Did I understand what she meant, of course not, I knew it was something she disproved.

Rain or shine we were out the door when it was a week-end, we played to our hearts content, mom would call us to have lunch we’d gobble it in two seconds flat and back to the playground we’d go. It was as if inside the home was for sleeping.

My younger sister had some unbelievable imagination, she told me there were some little people growing in our garden,she takes them in the palm of her hand and has hours of fun playing, did I believe it,yes to me this was possible, I’d ask her to show me the little people somehow she managed to keep me in suspense. 

My mind was flexible, I always believed every weird story I heard, it probably is a process of growing up. 

During the monsoon season we’d run out jump and hop in the rain,if we were too wet we’d go inside change and back outside we went to get wet, giggle and run, then someone would sing Tagore’s famous song, “Rain is falling drip drop”, I’d join in and sang as loud as I could. 

These are the memories I treasure, “Those were the days my friends we thought will never end.” They are so vivid seems it was only yesterday we did all those things, today’s memory cannot compete with the fun we had!

: https://sabethville.wordpress.com/2014/05/24/dp-daily-prompt-4/