Watchcat
PART 1
Irina walked around her society, consisting of tall mammoth-like buildings, all placed inside the bordered piece of land in urban symmetry.
'Poor Mum, had to almost push me out of the house.. Yeah this pandemic has made me truly unsocial' She thought about how her body had looked in the mirror that morning, 'And disfigured like a ginger. Hmm. Maybe, now that I'm out, I'll use this to my liking!'
Suppressing a triumphant grin beneath her face mask so as to not freak any passer-by out, she made her way to the back of her society, where she strode past the old guard, she usually cycled past.
'Oh man. Why the f*** am I feeling like an anxious little worm now? Oh right- I'm short, fatter than the people have seen me.'
'Oh really, Iri? What people? Do you mean.. the cute footballers? And how about Dave? The two years older, cute and amazing footballer that, by some sorcery, had a crush on you?'
'Ugh, stupid voice of my conscious. I love you! Yet, do you have to be so – um – critical?
Oh of course she does, she's me! And I'M critical!
Ugh. Shut up Irina.
You shut up.
YOU shut up.
Irina just – SHH!'
She jumped over the speed-breakers and walked past a stretch which was pretty similar to her. 'Oh yay! That's the spot I'd fallen over and hurt my elbow, over which my friends had been 'ewing' for days. Ah-ha! And there I fell and tore that little spot on my jeans. Of course, a few weeks later on my birthday I got gifted another pair coincidentally, and now I have a formal pair, and a "cool" pair. Jeez, I'm talking stupid.
But I am stupid.
Shh!'
She heard some rock music playing in one of the higher houses, and looked up – to see her blonde hair fall into her eyes. The wind just had to kick up now, right?!
She started humming Girls Like You and decided to bring out the explorer-cum-observer in her. She looked ahead at the road and noticed – a pigeon! Grimacing at the unhealthy way its feathers were ruffled, she maintained a social distance – pun not intended – and passed the walking pigeon by without making it fly.
'Ooh my actions rhymed.'
Internally snickering at her cringiness-meter, she decided to climb a few stories in one of the buildings to look for a view she now desperately wanted to see.
Walking into the building she realised – 'Oh. No. UGH! F*** crushes I'm going up' – this was the same building where the cute guy she would call "forbidden" lived. She jumped, ran and just went over to the area between the second and third story, and just stared.
She let out a breath, all nervousness and anxiety gone.
She looked out at the world that lived right behind her, yet she knew nothing about it. Some shops spread over the opposite end of the little road separating their urban housings with the numerous little buildings. Many of the terraces had lined thrown over to hang the drying clothes. On one particular building, two men with their own different lives and their own different priorities fixed a human – size Christian cross on a spot, the five-story building beneath them standing out a bit, what with all the gleaming glass windows – and yet it fit right in with the numerous households squeezed and spread all over in the land before her.
She hugged herself for warmth against the slightly cold wind and looked on the road.
Three boys, around her own age in high school, slowly passed the stretch in front of her.
But there was something amiss. Oh boy-
None of the three were wearing masks. Of course, Irina was not surprised. Once again she observed just how different the lives of people living literally side by side, could be.
They were wearing grey school uniforms, and one was on a bicycle. They laughed on some joke made by one of them, and Irina smiled at their differences. Most of the stories heard about people at the millennial level were either of people who had risen from lives such as the boys', or were of inherited money kids.
And Irina? She neither came from big money, and nor was she an underdog. Her parents were hardworking, and she planned to be too. She thought about the different proportions of their lives, how they cared about some local scandal, or how much food they were going to get that day, or maybe even about how their parents would behave that day – friendly or abusive?
She supposed abusive parents could not be stereotyped as only those "poor" or only "rich". They were everywhere. Just like good people too.
She switched her gaze to the casually dressed young boys passing the uniformed ones. The uniformed boys interacted with the younger ones, nudging them to join their group. "Yo come, come!" "Come with us!"
The younger ones refused and went on their merry – or not, who knows – way. So once again Irina drew her eyes at the school boys and heard one of them say something about grabbing some treats in a dollar. She thought about how different, yet same, were the things that mattered to them. She didn't know if they worried about their marks, or their friendships, or if they cried in desolation and anxiety over their studies or normal lives like she did.
She didn't know if they went on the same type of parties with their buddies, where adults were always a presence – non interfering – or if they enjoyed similar outings to the city over to visit the extended family, the phone calls to relatives living in distant countries, or the somewhat fine clothes even she wore once in a blue moon.
Of course, the same things didn't matter to them. Maybe, food wasn't as big a concern to her as it was to them. Maybe, marriage in the future, or some social stereotypes, weren't as unimportant to them as it was to her.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
She widened her eyes as she realised that she was just standing, and not walking about at all! So she climbed another two stories and looked at the young, thin man wearing dull clothes, standing in front of a shop at the other end of her view of the stretch. He had shortly cut hair that looked a little geeky, and was looking in different directions while fidgeting with his hands. 'Ah. A fellow awkward soul.'
She looked at him for a little while, thinking about how different his life could be from hers, too. Did he worry about electricity, food, water? Or did he have those things, and worry about something else?
Because naturally, everybody would care about some facilities they lacked, maintained, or had to obtain.
At least, she did.
With a last glance at the schoolboys, she climbed back down and walked around the society.
****
Hi.
Thank you, so much, for giving this book a chance. It truly means a lot.
In case you find anything dull or boring, do point it out but in considerate words. Remember - Considerate. Words.
There's a part two that I'll publish in a day or two.
Ciao!
****
