These little things.

Day 1 – Little girl

Suddenly a girl’s loud cry echoed my entire work place. The shrill voice became scarier and sharp. The worried us ran towards the noise and we found out a little girl, from the ongoing Summer Camp, had locked herself in the bathroom and did not know how to undo the lock. We asked her to be calm and instructed her how to open it. Slowly she became calm and worked on the lock and succeeded in opening it. When she came out the cute little girl had a red face, tears running down in gallons. I could imagine how scary it must have been for her and appreciate how loudly she cried so that we could rescue her. We asked her why she had to come to the bathroom all by herself and she replied she is a grown up and do not like a nanny following her everywhere. Made Sense, I guess.

 

Day 2 – Silence

I was trying to swim away from a pile of papers when a girl came in. Small, cute, neatly dressed, hair in a tight braid, smart; I told her “goodmorning sweety, whats your name”

She stared at me.

I repeat – Name???

She still stared.

Ah, maybe she aint comfortable in English. Thanks to my friend, I knew, Name is Esmik in Arabic.

I tried again – Shu Esmik???

Still blank.

Well, that was the scariest moment of the day when I did not know what to do.

Why was she staring at me???

If you play a “who is more scared game”, who would win – Me or Her???

Slowly I tried – Its ok darling, you can go.

Walla, she understood and left.

So why was she not replying? Was she shy/ Scared/ unwilling to be confronted to by a stranger like me?? I never knew.

 

Day 3 – Fashion

It was my first time giving tour to a lady who happened to be a French visual artist. Though my Parisian experience was no great, this lady seemed nice. I shared my limited insight on art materials and tools and she seemed happy with my company. Towards the end, I came to see another artist who was wearing too much of a fashion outfit – a clothing covering the top portion of his body full of holes. Concealing my disappointment on his outfit, I looked away thinking – “Is that really some fashion or have I grown my roots into a previous generation”? The thinking stayed in my head forever.

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