agustdv

United Arab Emirates

[ a f r a h ]

far too nonchalant about things i should probably care about

Message from Writer

reviews pLeAsE. reviews without anything constructive are honestly a waste of your time, more than anything. be harsh or whatever when you critique me, but please do.

as for comments, they help a lot lol so if you drop a few, it would be highly appreciated.

nobody loves december like i do

December 5, 2019




december breaks my heart.

~

the park opens, and so do the yawning arms of a slippery december. the scratchy voice in our tinkering car's radio announces that on average, it only rains five days a year in dubai. i take the statistics with an entire ocean of salt. my sweater budget, i decide, must therefore be spent on the cheap lychee juice boxes i buy at a small grocery store under my building (although i must admit, the official cover story differs wildly).

lychee juice is a cornerstone of my winter shenanigans. while most of my peers reasonably opt for weather-appropriate drinks, like piping hot karak chai or steaming mugs of coffee, i prefer the tangy sweetness of chilled lychee juice. it slides down my throat, knocking at every cell of my being with icy fingers, before resting in my stomach like an impish child put to bed.

in the course of winter, it becomes the norm to see a tiny juice box clutched in my hand; the other furiously wiping at the thin film of dew covering the large tyre swings that my park boasted. my friends tell me i should dress warmer, but i brush away their fleeting concerns, as i always do. i just revel in the teasing winds knotting my hair, turning an indifferent eye to the wagging tongues of the neighbourhood women. 

this joy is my quietus. i fall in love with the whimsical nuisance of the silky strands of rain; the strange liberation of swinging on damp tyres, the oh so blue sky and the oh so low clouds. all i can think of is how much it will hurt once this december comes to an end.

~

three decembers later, i am sixteen with a boulder on my chest.

my grandfather whispers to me that he will be okay, that i shouldn't worry, that by the time this phone call ends, he'll be right as rain again. but hearty words don't seem to help, and my mother flies back to the weary winter of india, like a tongue to the freezing metal of the hospital bed. my grandfather's voice disappears, and the phone stops ringing.

i eat nothing but lettuce. school looks at me expectantly, and i comply by sleeping in classrooms and looking past the incoherent equations on the white board. but still, my grandfather smiles. and i ache with the filth settling over me, a sheet of ice that dubai always falls short of. guilt runs amok through my detached brain. i imagine him dying one too many times. i imagine myself not crying. i imagine singing his eulogy beside his bed. i imagine the pitch black full stop his life was about to come to. 

so he does exactly that. he dies.

it is four in the morning when my father is awoken with the news, swollen eyes and a stranger in his mouth. outside, the wind rattles by my window, blue curtains caving into my illuminated room. i don't say a thing. 

instead, i dress myself for school and look over the math equations for the upcoming midterm. i board the bus, and sleep, and sleep, and sleep.

i fail the exam.

during winter break after the midterms, i learn how to make kohakuto, a japanese confectionery in the form of rock candy. it takes me three unsuccessful trials and two weeks to form the sugar crystals, but i finally manage to do it. i make four full trays; rugged crystals in blue and red and purple, but i sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor and eat it all myself. one by one.

the lettuce withers in my stomach.

~

december is my toxic lover; caressing the softness of my neck, slipping cold fingers between my thighs. i am the saddest when it kisses my stony chest, trying to snuff the last semblance of anything i can feel. the thick clouds consume my entire being; i am swallowed in the blue of the blues, a dune encrusted christmas, the pale sun tugging at my heartstrings.

something dies inside me. something dies inside me. something dies inside me.

 

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

2 Comments
  • Anha

    december highlights are live!
    http://bit.ly/2RRDtGH


    10 months ago
  • Miss_S_wise

    This is beautiful! Good luck!


    12 months ago