Shaquilla`s Thoughts from `Shaquilla`s Papers` (2)

by  Jibunnessa  ( 1352 )

Posted: 29 April 2003
Word Count: 370


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Often, I would find myself. In places. In life. Walking through. Unseen. Invisible. Like a viewer of a soap opera walking through the programme. Like a ghost. Unseeable, unhearable, untouchable! What makes a person so insubstantial? Am I just like the wind? Vapour, rushing past people’s faces and only slightly ruffling their hair? May be, all wind is like that? Nothing to do with the pressure between hot and cold air or filling vacuums. Unless the vacuums are inside people’s lives. Perhaps the world is full of millions of invisibles rushing past, ruffling hair, floating away the odd balloon or dancing through the trees? Could hurricanes then be angry invisibles and typhoons those that are heartbroken? Lovers scorned who find their new status unbearable. What about tornados, cyclones and whirlwinds then? Is it any wonder that strong winds are given names? Is it any wonder that strong winds are usually given women’s names? May be Kabi Nazrul Islam, the great Bengali poet, was right when he said, “I am cyclone!” But, I am but a limp breeze. Not even pleasantly memorable enough to be referred to as gentle. If I was a cyclone! If only I was a cyclone! If only I was a cyclone, I could NOT be ignored!

But, when I am noticed, I am like a naked woman walking through the streets. My every goose pimple, every subtle variation in skin tone, every pubic hair, every deposit of fat, every slight bruise, every slight blemish, every wobble of my breasts, every vibration of my tummy, every spot, every pimple, every cough, every sneeze, every scratch, every itch, every movement of my mouth, or the way my fingers curl or don’t curl, and the way I walk or stand or sit or talk or eat or think. What I know and what I don’t know. What I feel and what I don’t feel. Even the very flesh that I am composed of, and the teeth embedded in my jaw. All these things. All under scrutiny! Examined! Analysed! Dissected! Ripped apart! Torn to shreds! Thrown into the air. Blown away by the wind. Invisible. Again.



---Jib, 06.13am, Mon 27 Aug 01, Hotel Chang Cheng, Qufu, China. Narrator: Shaquilla. From: ‘Shaquilla’s Papers’




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Posted by :  roger at 15:50 on 29 April 2003

You've done it again, Jib....made me feel inferior. This is such powerful writing. I often mock (I know I have no right to) D&M, but this is un-mockable. It's beautiful. All of it, but especially your list starting 'My every goose pimple...' soooo powerful (got a bit rude here and there though!)

You, insubstantial? Are you kidding?

Just one point. I was a little concerned about Mr Bengali. If you can pass on a message, could you just say that cyclones are okay initially, but that they fade to nothing quite quickly, so not to worry himself too much. I had to say that to get me back to 'shallow mode', which you took me away from for a few minutes. Beautiful.

Posted by :  Jibunnessa at 16:00 on 29 April 2003
I initially wrote this by hand in my notebook. And, it didn't contain the Bengali poet explaination. There, I had simply written:

May be Kabi Nazrul Islam was right when he said, “I am cyclone!”

I think this works better. But, I thought that I better explain, so I did.

But, to further explain, Kabi Nazrul Islam was a famous Bengali poet who got up the nose of the British so much during the days of the Raj that they imprisoned him. So, his work can be quite angry sometimes.

Again, glad you like the piece. And cheers for the positive words of support, Rog.
Posted by :  Becca at 20:03 on 29 April 2003
It's a beautifully charged piece of writing. I have to confess to being interested in whether being in China when you wrote it influenced it, in the way that I know places can do. As a lover of wind and sky I really loved reading it as well. I'd like to be able to see it in the context of what comes before and after, although I know that can be difficult if it's part of a novel.
Becca.
Posted by :  Jibunnessa at 23:26 on 29 April 2003
Thanks Becca.

Did being in China influence this piece? Personally, I can't see it. But then again, Qufu was the birthplace of Kung Fu Zu (or Confucious as known to the west).

I will upload some longer parts from this novel. However, I have sometimes just gone with the flow and written my characters' thoughts, while I'm (even if just for short spaces of time) doing the writer's version of method acting. Might be considered ill disciplined by some. But, I enjoy it.

So, what goes before and after this bit... well, we'll see.

The book also has 3 different narrators: Shaquilla, Matthew and Uma.

Let me know what you think guys as I put up more.

Cheers.
Posted by :  Stacey at 13:38 on 30 April 2003
I love your choice of words, so powerful and descriptive. A thought provoking piece of writing. Well done.
Posted by :  Jibunnessa at 13:58 on 30 April 2003
Cheers Stacey. Glad you like it.
Posted by :  Nell at 22:29 on 17 July 2003
Shaquilla is becoming strangely real - powerful yet enigmatic. Looking forward to more, and waiting for the story to unfold. Best, Nell.
Posted by :  kmerignac at 13:00 on 26 August 2003
Another lovely piece, very evocative and thought-provoking. I can just see these little snippets coming together really well as a novel - it's a great idea.
Yours, Kate.


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