Friday 1 April 2022

A is for An Announcement #bloggingfromatoz #NaPoWriMo 2022


Dear Readers,

I decided to jump into the familiar excitement of the blogging challenge of A to Z this year at 10 pm, last night which happened to be the 31st of March. I'd been toying with the idea of giving it a miss this year on account of lack of preparedness and a big lack of time. But, the pull of this challenge is too irresistible. So, here I am. 

This year's badge is a tribute to Jeremy Hawkins, the official graphics guy for the A to Z Challenge, who passed away.


I'm also participating in the #NaPoWriMO2022 for two reasons: 1) Because I love poetry. and 2) Because I want to learn how to craft better poems. And as practice is the only way to get better, I thought I'd give myself an entire month of limited time to write to invite the muse to work with me.
Thank you for being here.

You know I'd love to find out what you think of my poem today, if you'd like to share.

Happy Friday.

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An Announcement

The white spots on the base of her throat hadn’t responded to the steroid cream her GP had prescribed. If anything, the pale white spots had turned red, angry and frustrated. Deep down, in the recesses of her heart, where her Indian heritage lived and guided her actions and thoughts—about love, the self but never about the two together—she knew. But she buried the knowing under fluffy blankets of optimism on a cold, clear autumn morning in West London and went to see her GP.

“It’s Vitiligo.” He announced, without taking his eyes off of the UV light he was holding on the red, blotchy spots which used to be brown skin but were assimilating with the whiteness of the country she’d migrated to.

“No!” concrete tears stuck in her throat. She sobbed out, “Really?”

“At least it’s not cancer.” The GP offered solace. “It’s only superficial!” he hammered the concrete, hammered her hopes.

She left the clinic. Outside, the blue sky was sparkling with autumn sunshine. The air was crisp. She unwrapped her scarf. The air hit the spots. She’d kept them covered for over six months with scarves, turtle necks in summer and band-aids in the swimming pool. She let them drink in the air—at last. But her feet, her knees, her brown heritage sitting deep inside her trembled like an earthquake—seismic shifts to how she’d look when the white spots start to grow, multiply and mutate her skin, her body and how people will see 'her' made her slump on the road, outside the GP’s clinic, under a large chestnut tree full of red, yellow and golden leaves that once were green.


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30 comments:

  1. Very nicely expressed. The story is sad, I liked the ending very much!

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  2. Poignant. Welcome Arti. Looking forward to reading you.

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  3. Wow!!! A short story with so many shades in it! Simply loved the ending ! Beautifully written Arti!

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  4. Hari OM
    Oh I am so glad you are going to be seen on my screen each day again!!! Looking forward to this...YAM xx
    A=Arrival

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    1. I'd say Ditto. One of the 'pulls' that made me jump in is the fact that I'll get to read some of my favourite blogger friends on a daily basis and you know you top that list:)
      Hugs. xx

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  5. Glad you decided to take up the challenge. I am diving in this year after a few years off. Thanks for sharing your story. Nicely done.

    https://thebookconnectionccm.blogspot.com/2022/04/blogging-to-z-2022-affirmations-ambition.html

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  6. It seems like a lot of us signed up for the challenge at the very last minute.

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  7. So glad you hopped on at the last moment. This is so honest and endearing. Thank you for writing so beautifully.

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  8. "...the red, blotchy spots which used to be brown skin but were assimilating with the whiteness of the country she’d migrated to."

    This is such a powerful, charged line. It hits home - the entire poem does. It brings me back to when I used to live in another country, and the way people perceive immigrants/resident aliens/those who are different.

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    1. Thank you Shuku. So, so glad to read your comment.

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  9. Wow, Arti! I love the juxtaposition of the tree's transformation and the woman's. And the ironic contrast between the gorgeous bright day and the woman's feelings of loss. Your exploration of what vitiligo means to her in terms of her Indianness and the pressures of assimilation is fascinating. This poem resonates for me personally as a person with a bodily difference, alopecia. I will go upvote you now if you have posted this on the NaPoWriMo site. (This is Alana from Poem Dive, btw.)

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    1. All I can say is Alana that after reading your fabulous poem yesterday, I'm chuffed to bits to read this wonderful comment. I'm not sure how upvoting works for I'd love to do the same for your piece. Thank you for seeing 'me' in the memory I've shared here.

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  10. Oh Arti - I'm so glad you decided to play again this year. And how brilliant to combine the challenges. I recently came across a card with a excerpt from Jan Phillip's Artist Creed - "As the Muse gives…so does she deserve…faith, mindfulness, and commitment." I find that so inspiring and motivating. So yay for challenges. Your words are so powerful and your images so poignant. How perfect to weave the leaves changing appearance with the woman, and her profound grief of having to let go of how she's known herself.

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    1. Thank you Deborah. I've copied the quote above in my notebook. Thank you for being here and for sharing your wise, calm self with me.

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  11. Glad you accepted the challenge. It's always a delight to read you. Life's various shades dance in your lines.

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  12. I hope she eventually adjusts to the change. I'm sorry for the pain she is feeling right now.

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    1. She did. As soon as she let go of her 'narrow' idea of beauty, she found her stillness, her peace.

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  13. So nice to meet you, and with writing like this, I reckon you'll see me here often as I can find you in the forum. This one is about this person's body. But transcends skin. Wow. sad about this but I loved your words. Thanks.

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    1. Thank you so much Selma. Truly appreciate your comment which tells me how closely you've read my poem. I'm grateful.

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  14. Glad to see you back with another Challenge!

    That sounds like pretty devastating news. Time for Adjustment.

    Arlee Bird
    Tossing It Out Battle of the Bands

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    1. Thank you Arlee.
      It was. But, time as they is the best healer. It has healed:)

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