Project 52 week 9 : 29th Sept – 4th Oct 2014.
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” FDR famously said.
We humans are hardwired to feel a range of emotions to fit the
circumstances we face: love, hatred, anger, and joy, to name a few. They
can be intertwined and confused, as fear and cowardice often are. Some
succumb to their fears, while others don’t. The soldier in combat knows he
may die at any moment, yet he does his duty. Firefighters and police
officers face their fears, yet do their jobs.
But we don’t have to face death to feel fear. What about that final exam?
That job interview? The speech you have to give? The teenager you’re still
waiting up for, and it’s one a.m.? The sources of fear are endless; it can
be the only reasonable emotion, or it can be irrational.
Get inside the poor bloke’s head, letting us know how the person feels and
why. The fear can be of pain or death, but feel free to inflict the worry
of shame, imprisonment, divorce, dishonor, hell, public speaking, or even
Exercise: In 500 words or less show us a person beset by fear.
Here is my take on the prompt. Do give me a mouthful. 🙂
Fish Curry Worry
Amul opened the gate and screamed, “Mom, I’m home. I’m hungry. I want fish curry and rice.”
Meera noted Krish walk in with Amul and said, “Hi, Krish, I see Amul brought you home to taste Pulasa. I’ll call your mom and tell her you’ll have supper here tonight.”
“Thank you, aunty.”
The kids washed-up and sat at the table ready for the feast.
Meera asked, “Krish, do you know how to pick the fish-bones?”
“Yes, of course. It’s easy. I’ve had fish curry many times,” came his matter-of-fact lie.
Meera served a heap of rice and topped it with ginger-garlic smelling fish curry.
The kids dug into their plates.
Krish watched. Amul tore away a piece of meat, sandwiched in between her fingers to feel the bones to separate them from the meat, before devouring it.
Krish followed suit. Krish licked his fingers, smacked his lips and said, “Thank you, Amul for the invite.”
Amul was too busy relishing her food to reply.
Meera then heard, “Aunty, a fish bone… is stuck in… my throat… ” said Krish. He began to choke and cough.
Meera rushed to his side, made a big ball from rice and fed it to the boy and said, “Gulp it down in one go.”
“Did it go down?” She asked worried.
“It it is still stuck in my throat.”
Meera noticed the boy was turning pale from fear.
Oh My God! What will I tell his mom if something happens? Why did Amul bring him home? How do I handle the situation? Meera thought lightning-fast.
Meera was running around trying to help the boy. She gave him a big glass of water, then milk and then lemonade to wash down the tiny bone.
No attempts worked. Krish began crying.
“Don’t cry! That won’t help,” said Meera.
Amul sat aghast observing the goings on. She joined the boy in chorus-weeping, unable to help.
When every attempt failed, Krish’s bawling increased. Meera’s BP oscillated between normal and abnormal levels.
Hearing the kids’ weep, Grand ma Sarasu rushed in, held the boy’s head and tilted. His chin pointed upwards to allow free air flow. Sarasu ordered, “Meera bring a banana.”
Meera ran into the kitchen in a hop-skip-and-a-jump and returned with a ripe plantain.
Sarasu peeled it broke a big piece and shoved it into the eight year olds mouth and roared, “Swallow at once.”
He did. She fed him another piece and then another.
The boy was regaining color as she asked, “Did it go down?”
Krish nodded and kissed her gnarled hand.