Peer Review by Koon Wei Pheng (Singapore)

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My December. ( please like and review)

By: MimiChoudhury


As I looked out of the window sill to imbue the mesmerizing soft solid drizzling vividly from the scarlett coloured sky,  I found the dense droplets of water vapour staring back at me instead. This year...there was going to be no sign of snow in the country. Or so I've heard.

Frozen 2 had just hit the theatres on 22nd November... but there was still no sign of winter in India.

As my head rested on the violet cushion that Mumma had gifted to me for an early Christmas present, my eyes tentatively went back to the scene outside the window. Last year there had been a cluster of boys runnings about in the field, clearing up the snow. This year, it was just the smog. 

I remember riding  up to my uncle's house on the 25th of each and every December . The date held a special significance for us - not only because it was Christmas , but also because it was their anniversary date. I used to order the roasted turkey early in the morning - and in the evening, when aunty would start getting worried about the lunch, a big fat turkey would appear magically on the table. They were all habituated on this trick of mine- but still they went into fits of laughter . We had to stop those gatherings after uncle's car accident. The old man was crossing the road when a huge truck appeared out of nowhere in front of him. When questioned, the truck driver said that he could not see a single particle in the fog. My uncle died on the second day. They said it was extensive blood loss. I said ... It was the smog.  

I could paint those colours  in the sky- those crimson yellow shades with a touch of  scarlett. I could paint them in my canvas -replicate them exactly to the point. But the problem was that I had finished my grey paint. Without that, how could I replicate the atmosphere outside??


 Mumma called for me this morning. Formerly, she had laughed at the idea of watching Frozen 2 in the theatres. "  Are you still a kid of five ?" she had said.  Maybe yes; along the  years, my height had grown- and so had my maturity. My eyes had now become accustomed to the vast blanket of smoke and water vapour in the sky every morning . You  call it pollution. I call it beauty. Mumma had  taught me to always find out some beauty in the ugliest things in the universe.  It  was the beauty that lay in the fog that mesmerized me now.

But still sometimes- a part of my soul, which was perhaps still immature, would nag  me to go find a part of my childhood winter. Those foggy  mornings with faint droplets of water replicating numerous pearls on the soft lush green grass. Elsa's hand swirling in the air...........Anna singing ' For the first time in forever' .........the ride to my uncle's......Kristoff singing "Reindeers are better than people" to Sven......those droplets of dew touching the surface of the grass.....but now- now it was just the smog....


Message to Readers

Just fixed some bugs and Tada.....all my likes are gone. Please guys!! Whoever has liked my previous version with 7 likes please like this one.


Peer Review

A generally well-written piece that encapsulated the wonders of the change of time and the relationships between people with very close and unique attention to the symbol of the smog. Use of the movie in giving your piece a character is incredible, using the Frozen classic to give a special voice to the story. Storytelling seems smooth and fluid, having fused your personal voice with lines from the movie to give a platform for readers to connect with the piece immediately.


December has seemed to become a season of loss and disappointment for the writer. Losing the season of snow and also her uncle, the writer wrestles with the conventional idea of this season being one of joy. Tension is apparent in the writer's storytelling technique. However, within these losses, the writer shows that December is truly beautiful because the losses are filled with hope. To the writer, December is simply a celebration of the beauty of hope.


The inclusion of the part on the paint seems abrupt and out of the blue. While the description of the paint is powerful to bring out the idea of the smog, there seems to be no apparent connection to painting in the paragraphs both before and after the short paragraph. The writer could have shown the link between painting and her life. Perhaps, the piece would then have greater meaning and power in touching readers. The writer could possibly consider how painting connects to her life, how painting is a representative of herself, the people around her and the environment around her.

The writer could also have gone deeper into her very special relationship with snow. Since smog has been used as a symbolism of negativity, does snow represent positivity? Why the very intimate connection and longing for snow? A deeper description of the snow could have allowed for a comparison between snow and smog? Consider also the idea of snow in Frozen and in real life. Are the two types of snow the same?


Ending is satisfying with the strong connection to the movie. Shows growth and maturity in the writer's voice in being able to grasp the words of Frozen into her very own writing. Use of Frozen is both apt and very timely to strike a chord in all readers alike.


Keep writing and rewriting. When you feel that what you have written in the past was not the best, know that you have improved. All the best. :))


Reviewer Comments

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