A to Z will be a compilation of 26 locations starting with each letter of the alphabet which I have written about. Here are the first 3.
E is for Emergency Room
Efficient.
Nobody is running, but there’s a sense of urgency still. All types of different situations. Some kids are vomiting profusely. Some are injured with broken bones. Some are crying. Some are screaming.
And then there was me.
Quietly sitting on the bed. No physical harm to my body, except for a few fresh cuts on my wrists still bleeding, merged with the scars of old gashes. I was calm however. This feeling was common for me.
I was in a monochromatic room-devoid of all colour. Except for the one picture. This giant picture which covered half of one wall. A sunny beach. It was a beautiful scene, but it was unsettling. It felt out of place. Most likely placed there to help calm patients down, it did the opposite for me. It scared me, and to this day, I still don’t know why.
It was chaotic in that ER area. Nurses and doctors conversing quietly, sharing facts about patients. There was a lot of people there that day. I of course was the lowest priority, for I was there mostly for mental reasons, rather than physical. This gave me an ample amount of time to observe my surroundings. There was one guard posted in the hall connecting all the rooms. He was tasked with watching me and making sure I was safe, because according to the doctors I was unstable. I waited and watched. Watched how systematically everything took place. It was surreal how in such an unpredictable environment the staff was able to maintain order and perform tasks efficiently.
In the room beside mine there was a boy. His screams echoed through the ward. He had broken his leg. The doctors gave him painkillers and tried to calm him down, but the pain took control. It overpowered the order that was set in place by the staff.
After dealing with him, they came to my room. They asked me some questions and tried to get into my head. But they don’t want to go there. Even I don’ want to go there. It’s scary there. I understated the severity of my issues and with this I was able to get off easily. I only had to spend 2 weeks penned up in a Woods Home. After my interrogation I was prepped to be transferred. It was a quick process. They helped me grab my things, and escorted me to waiting area. Two paramedics came in and led me to an ambulance, and I was on my way.
T is for Temple
Dashmesh Culture Centre.
Death is inevitable, but he was scared. He didn’t want to lose him. Every day after his grandfather was admitted to the hospital, he went to the gurdwara and prayed. Prayed for his safe recovery. Prayed that he could see him at home again. He was never really religious, but he still prayed. Just in case.
It was so calm in there. All the babas sitting quietly, one with God. The peaceful reciting of prayer coming from the speakers. It was so easy to think there. With the smell of langar coming from downstairs, and the soft carpet supporting his weight. It was perfect. He doesn’t know if the praying is what kept his grandfather alive for so long, but it helped him nonetheless. It kept him occupied, and gave him hope, and in times of strife, hope matters a lot. It also helped him to come to terms with his grandfather passing away. It was hard though. He passed away so suddenly. He was healthy, and recovering. Regardless, the prayer saved the boy if not the grandfather.
V is for Veld
My backyard.
A vast open dog park, connecting to the Calgary Greenway Pathway. 6PM-the most quiet hour there. Quiet in the sense that there is no human noise. You can obviously still hear natural sounds. The crickets chirping in the brush, frogs croaking by the pond, ducks quacking on the water, and the grass rustling. Not yet summer, cold days still corrupt the weeks, so the grass is not yet green. Golden yellow. Natural beauty. So pure. It’s shocking to think how from a world as simple as this, we have been able to develop such unique structures and machinery. How from plants and the earth, we can make devices which connect the world. The possibilities are endless. Nature has so much to give to us. Everything that makes our lives the way they are started from nature. I can’t even begin to imagine how it was here without humans. I feel peace. I am calm, and in tune with nature right now. I haven’t spoken in over an hour now, for I have no need to. My awe is indescribable, so why even try.
Dear Jatinapl,
I just want to say that I am in awe of your work. How you described everything I saw it in my head. And I just want to say that you are indeed a strong human being. I can relate to how you prayed that your grandfather would get better and recover quicker. I sadly didn’t have time to pray for my grandfather’s health. He passes away so suddenly I was in shock. But I’m really happy that in some way prayer gave you comfort. I hope you have an amazing life. And also have many years of happiness.
Sincerely,
Rania
Dear Rania,
Thank you so much, It really helps to know that I have such supportive friends. And I’m glad you were able to envision what I was describing.
Sincerely,
Jatinpal
Dear Jatinpal,
Great work on your A-Z posts! You really captured the environment and made me visualize what was happening. I like how you made E for Emergency room be a past memory of what has happened to you in the emergency room. The way that you layed everything out, and took your time explain what was going on, made the story easy to follow. For T is for Temple I really enjoyed how you used memories once again to tell your story. It helped me relate to the situation more, and understand how you were feeling. V for Vast space was beautifully descriptive in the environment around you, and I loved how you described how you were in awe of nature in the end.
One improvement you could work on, is making these short and quick stories a bit longer, and more polished. You could turn these into tiny little snippets of experiences you have had in your life.
Keep up the amazing work!
~Caprice
Dear Caprice,
I’m glad I was able to help you visualize my situations through my writing, and I will definitely make my future additions longer, and I may even develop one into a short story for June.
Sincerely,
Jatinpal
Hello Jatinpal,
I came across your blog and felt the need to comment, not to critique your writing, but to address the “realistic” half of the dreamer behind your words.
Many, or perhaps most of the world’s best creative work is inspired by deep emotions and impressions. I can read between the lines of your work, and I can see which ones were borne of the greatest pain and passion. Most creative writing pieces have some element of hyperbole, of fiction. But much of what we write also comes from the harsh reality of our suffering, and the beautiful reality of our joy.
I can see that you are in pain. Writing is an excellent tool to define our pain so we might return to it some day, inspect it, analyze it. Turn it into something more tangible and concrete, something that can be controlled and shaped. That way, the pain seems safer, explainable. Unfortunately, many of us do not simply define our pain, and we instead attempt to separate it from us, to somehow pull it out of ourselves and put it somewhere else. An abstraction of our very being.
“Abstract” has two definitions when used as a verb: 1. consider (something) theoretically or separately from something else and 2. extract or remove (something). As a noun, it means existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or concrete existence. And therein lies the paradox of human suffering: We want so badly to separate from our pain, so it can become an object rather than a thought. Because thoughts in your own mind can feel so much more real than objects in the physical world around us, and I believe you understand this. But, the abstraction of our pain only turns it into something exactly that; abstract. Something that can no longer manifest itself physically as the sensations of grief and physical anguish that we have come to know so well. It becomes an idea with no means of propagating itself, flailing without limbs or eyes in the darkness. Not an object, as we intend, but simply an absence; a hole in the Self, a blind spot.
This may seem preferable to some, because so long as your pain is blinded, it cannot find its way back to you. But this is a true instance of tragedy, because leaving our pain to grapple with itself in a void only allows you to forget it there, until it latches on to someone else. Those who love you can see your pain fighting to find you, and they can see your denial of it. It burns them more than they believe your own suffering would, and they willingly try to take it away from you. A trade, they believe. Your pain for their own.
And as Hamlet said, “Aye, there is the rub”. Because other people are not boxes with lids that can stow the pain away, somewhere where it cannot hurt you. Other people, especially those you love and those who love you, are mirrors. And you will only ever see your own pain reflected in their eyes.
Jatinpal, you are clearly a thoughtful and intelligent individual, with experiences that no one else may ever fully understand. I urge you to never walk away from those experiences, to never try to leave your pain behind. I urge you to accept the extent of your problems, no matter how extensive they may be, and to accept the help you deserve in resolving them. Help will not always feel like help, but in the end, you will have a much better understanding of yourself and how you can be at peace. No matter where you go, even if you cease to exist…the abstraction of your pain will live on, in the mirrors of the eyes that watched you leave.
Jatinpal
“Nobody is running, but there’s a sense of urgency still.”
Something about that line is so brilliant. It is simple rhetoric, doubtless, but it is so effective that it truly kept me hooked on reading the rest of this blog. In class, you have shown little else aside from excellence, and the way you articulate your thoughts so poetically is infinitely impressive. On the piece, I loved how each of these pieces told a story, each one relating to your life just as much as the last in a way that is overt enough to be understood yet subtle enough to be enjoyable and meaningful.
One note of improvement from me would be to structure your paragraphs a little more meticulously. Don’t be afraid to use indents and add flow through your structures. Give space for your words to breathe between one another, and you will see them come to life.
Keep on the good work, Jatinpal.
Regards, Liam
Thanks for the comment Liam, your criticism is honestly some of the most meaningful and constructive criticism that I receive because you are well-rounded with your writing.
Sincerely, Jatinpal