PREFER 

I prefer one’s who give
little true love
than one’s who shower
fake love and forsake

I prefer failure by trying
to make what’s worth
than being satisfied for
what’s inferior to success

I prefer foes that are
single faced and do not
backstab you than
two face friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                               HOW I LOST MY PHONE 

The previous evening a companion surged me out of the house to get the initial demonstration at a nearby bar's music night. After a couple of beverages I understood my telephone wasn't in my pocket. I checked the table we were sitting at, the bar, the washrooms, and after searching everywhere I utilized my companion's telephone to call mine.

After two rings somebody replied, gave out a low slicky laugh, and hung up. They didn't answer once more. I in the long run surrendered it as an act of futility and headed home.

I realised my telephone was at m nightstand, right where I left it before going to sleep and found it was just a bad dream I had. 
 

 

‘By the time she was eleven, the house was deep in age-old quiet. She had tender breasts already and, my God, what looked like hips, said the Shapiro aunts, turning her this way and that in the kitchen. Her mother and the aunts kept her well surrounded: no dark fact could break into this picture, dirty up or confuse it. But it was 1936 and her father’s store was in trouble, and something else was wrong. His eyesight was failing, and he got up to pee five times a night. Nobody spoke of it. The aunts swarmed in her mother’s parlour, clutching Clara to their bosoms, giving her big smacking kisses. “Doll,” they called her, and “Cutie-pie”, words that didn’t suit her then, that never would. She felt, at the time shunned by life, as it didn’t think her worth the effort, and was deliberately keeping away.’

She was not so familiar with the outside world and all she knew was a world inside the house doing household chores and reading books. Then came a chance for her to get to know the outside world when her father had suddenly got blurring of his eyesight. Clara was to work in the shop as her father’s vision was not well. She finally got the opportunity to break free from clutches of her aunts and mother and enjoy the life outside the house. She started going out with her father for buying stocks for the shop and saw many places on journey. She started living an adventurous life compared to her mundane household livelihood.

 

I have not had an opportunity to travel to any place on my own alone. Mostly I go for trips with my family. The longest destination I have gone with my friends is to Alappuzha from Kottayam. Me and my friend started our journey from Kottayam on an afternoon and we reached Alappuzha beach by evening around five o clock. We reached there and took a walk through the beach talking to each other. The gentle sea breeze passing through the shores of the beach was so pleasant. We sat at the rocks close to the beach watching the sun set. Watching the sun gently dip into the sea along with a chat was so beautiful. I wonder when we can go for a trip again.

From there we started our way back to home at almost at 7 o clock. On the way back we had a lime tea from a tea shack near the beach. It was a pleasant weather for a lime tea as it was starting to rain. As soon as we finished our tea we rushed to our car as it had started raining. The driving amidst the rain was a little fun and frightening as the road was not clear due to the heavy rainfall. But we hopefully made back home without any problems and the trip was so joyful even the rain had created a small inconvenience.

 There aren’t any writers who have inspired me. But there are books which I have liked. Back when I was a kid, maybe around sixth or seventh standard we had library hour once in a week. We used to love going to the library since it was in the underground floor of our school. By underground not literally underground, it was below the ground floor of our school entrance. Library block was a new block so we had to go down two floors and it was a fun task walking with friends in rows to the library. But going to library without creating a ruckus was not simple as we were the most problematic class. We used to run while other studious boys and girls went in a row. Our race was obviously to get the corner table and take ‘fastrack’ magazine to see the pictures of new cars. And another interesting thing was lending books from the library. In order to reduce the noise table wise students were called upon to select books. We boys used to search for books by Chetan Bhaghat . But we won’t get the opportunity as it would have already been taken by someone else. But still we would search for it. And the second option would be Charles Dickens novels, as it was the trend as everybody would take it. Oliver Twist, A Tale of Two Cities and so on were the books everybody used to take and return. But I didn’t go for the usual books. There I saw another book ‘Famous Five’ by Enid Blyton. It caughtmy eyes because the series had a number of books. So I took one for the first time. But the book I took was actually the second one of the series. I found out about it was the second book in the series as I found a discontinuity. I did not finish the book and stopped it halfway and tried to get the first book from the library. But each day I could not get hold of it as somebody else had probably taken it. So I decided to buy it. My very first book from my own pocket money. ‘Famous Five: Five on a Treasure Island’ was my first book thanks to Enid Blyton because of his story of four friends and a dog caught my attention. I have not yet finished the series as I got bored because of change in trend. Then as I got older I jumped from Enid Blyton to John Green, Chetan Bhagath, Ravinder Singh, Robin Sharma and currently no one. Now instead of reading books I spend more time in television series. 

Jobs that I have done are less, in fact there are not any other than internship jobs. The first job I did on my first internship was working in a Social Impact Organisation called ‘Change’. Then the other was working with an event management company called ‘Brand Eye’ during my second internship. Jobs that I would love to do is pretty much any job related to marketing, handling social media such as that.

 

                                                                The mud house

 

It was a hot sultry afternoon. I was alone in my home. Despite having a sumptuous meal I felt unnaturally low .I lost count of the number of times I found myself infront of the refrigerator with its door open , relieving myself from the heat, wondering if I could fit inside it and eventually cursing my giant human size.Soon the power went off and and my airconditioner turned back into it's normal self like a cursed soul bearing the leftovers of my unhealthy diet.I decided to get out of my concrete house once it started to act like an oven.

                   I came out and sat on the stairs that lead to my home. The sky was charmingly cloudy with all the beautiful shades of blue and black with some bearing sliver outlines like a metaphor. The plant pot that was hung was still as a statue with no sign of life , indicating the absence of wind.

                    Suddenly an ant bit the little finger of my foot .To my surprise the pain it inflicted seemed to posses a strange sweetness because instead of spitting out curse words , I decided to enjoy the moment in the company of the tiny stranger. So I looked down and saw the ant walking away from me but only to stop a few steps away.It  turned around and looked at me. Atleast I felt like it looked at me. My eyes followed the ants path and then I saw it entering its mud house on the bare ground beside the stairs .The house was massive yet I have never noticed it before  .I wondered how long it took them to built this enormous yet tiny house of theirs.

                   A cool breeze blowed ,calming my body and building on my anticipation for a possible rain. And in a minute it started to rain soothing the dry soil and even more barren minds. Along with  the water flowed

 away the erstwhile uneasiness, filling the chasms with the bliss. Me being a romantic decided to enjoy the rest of the rain drinking a cup of coffee. So I went back to make a cup of coffee for me.

     When the rain finally stopped I went out again and sat on the same stairs . I was chilling in my own company when all of a sudden I remembered about that ant. I looked down the stairs hoping to find the mud house but only to find  it gone. The mud house was lost in the rain. The uneasiness that I felt earlier seemed to creep its way back to me. I felt sad. What if the ant that bit me came to seek help, to protect their house from the rain.? The ant that bit me might be dead right now. I stood there looking for any ants but  there was none.

            When I  turned around to go back to my house. Something bit my foot again. But this time the pain was intense. I looked down in hope of seeing the ant. But instead I saw a scorpion. Aghast...

 

Why I write

For the past few days I have been working on my turning my thoughts into writing. I have spent almost months during this lockdown doing nothing and sitting at home. At times I had many thoughts going through my mind. At first I didn’t give much importance to them and rather spent my time doing nothing. But last few days I suddenly got a feeling to write down my random thoughts. And after scribbling them down I thought, why not make it a habit. So I decided to make a page of my own and named it “Jol Space”. You must be wondering what jol is?. Jol means an occasion of celebration and enjoyment; a good time. I chose Jol because it sort of have a ring to with my name Joel. And space with it because the page is my space where I write my random thoughts to the readers. I write for myself and it's usually a reminder to myself to do something more often.

Sure, I write to get feedback, to learn more, and to clarify my thoughts. In my opinion if you're confused or curious about something, write about it. It really helped me. But the more I do it, the more I am beginning to see writing as a form of relief by expressing myself. Moreover I think writing will carry my work and ideas further than just about anything else. I write because I have the courage to share.  We all have words inside of us — words that could change the world, words that could entertain and delight, words that could teach and improve — but these words can only unleash their power when shared. That’s why I write. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend ahead, if you also want to share your views or thoughts start sharing them. It may make someone’s day beautiful.