Me and Mama

A  tangy sweetness spreads across my tongue, as I take a bite. My teeth feel vulnerable and cold. That’s the thing about eating fruit. It makes your teeth cold and fresh but also exposed and sensitive. It’s a bittersweet feeling. Apples are delicious. No doubt. They’re Mother Nature’s miracle. Plus they keep the doctors away.  Whether they’re from the store or from Granny Mabel’s, there is no denying the crisp sugariness of an apple. There’s a sudden noise and I hear panting after. My mom stumbles through the door frame. “Good Morning, Cinnabon!” Mama shouts while fixing her hair with a fork. Sometimes we have to take matters into our own hands when we can’t find the combs. Well, that and we always break them. It’s pretty hard to manage life with annoyingly frizzy hair. Mama sure does look like she’s in a hurry. I look up at Mama and nod my head. Mama takes a plate and examines her reflection. “Baby, do I look presentable?” she questions. I object “Mama if you going on a date…”  Mama is always trying to find us a new daddy after our old one decided to…. Um whatever I dont wanna talk about it. "No, no Baby! I got a meeting with the boss.” Mama intervenes. Her boss is pretty cool but she really don’t have a mind of her own.  She’s a good boss but too susceptible to make her own decisions. I look up and down at Mama. She sure doesn’t look like she dressed for a meeting. Or like she cares about it. Pretty disrespectful for meeting the boss, if  you ask me. It’s clearly visible that she has hurriedly dressed up. Her hair is very frizzy and she looks like she’s wearing a brown sheep on her head! Mama’s eyeliner is smudged at the corner of her eye and you can see she didn’t blend in her face makeup. The woman’s missing a hoop earring and her shirt is all wrinkly! Someone obviously didn’t do the ironing. I point this out to her and she coos. “Oh… my baby is getting too old for me..” I roll my eyes playfully and help Mama sit on the wooden stool. Back to my prey. I take one last bite of my apple before I  toss the core into the trash. Or at least attempt to. My apple is lying on the floor next to the bin. Whatever, I’m too lazy to pick it up. Mama grabs a banana out of the fruit basket and peels it. I watch her crossed panty-hosed legs as she peels the banana. She’s wearing the dark-green heels Nana got me for Christmas. Mama sets the peel on the table. She’s too lazy to throw it into our fruit bin. Ha! The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Nana Marge collects our peels so Uncle Paul can compost em’.  She also bought Mama the hideous lipstick she’s wearing. I’m sorry, but Peach Blossom ain’t workin’ on Mama. Mama stands up and ruffles her pencil skirt and I grab her handbag and keys. She gives me an approving look as I offer her belongings. Mama inserts her key into the keyhole and turns the knob. She peeks her head through the door opening and gushes. “Baby, good luck on that history test! And wish me luck!” she exclaims, crossing her fingers. I wait for Mama to close the door. I don’t know why but something tells me Mama doesn’t have a normal meeting today… I shake off my negative thought and hike my backpack onto my shoulder. I blow a kiss to the microwave and head out the door. My friends used to tease me about it. Now I only have one. But I always feel like my house is a family member. I always want to leave the house on good terms so if it burns down I’ll be happy I said goodbye at least. I know that’s all pretty pessimistic (this week’s vocab word) but I'm not that religious so my superstitions go into the account. I wait for my bus stop. Oh, here comes Hillary! “Hey, Beautiful!” Hillary exclaims. Hillary struts toward me. Even though we have a uniform she always tries to be trendy. Hillary’s sewn a flower border at the hem of her uniform. And our uniforms ain’t the fancy kind either. Just a white button-down and a khaki skirt. Pretty basic. She also made the button-down into a V- neck. And she’s paired the outfit with a charm necklace, bracelets, and dangly earrings.  Her hair always seems to be styled in a different way every day. Today she’s chosen to incorporate pom-poms into her ponytail. Brave choice. She almost looks as tacky as Mama did in her high school days. Back then they had weird jacket dresses, petticoats and chunky jewelry. No one seems to say anything about Hillary bedazzling her uniform because she is such a teacher’s pet. Everyone loves her! Especially the guys. No wonder she’s the cutest girl in school. Hillary brushes her dirty blonde bangs from her face and leans against the stop sign. “Baby, are you wearing the same earrings from Tuesday? You know Cheryl’s gonna tease you!” Hillary scolded. I roll my eyes. Cheryl Watson is the most popular girl in our grade. And the meanest. Her parents are white supremacists. So she’s one too. “I don’t really care about what Cheryl has to say,” I remark. Hillary pats my back as she did at Nana’s uncle’s funeral. The bus arrives. Time for yet another grueling day of High school. I originally planned to study for my history test on the bus but I guess I’ll catch a few z’s. My throat is so dry. Like sandpaper. I should ask Mr. Jeremy for a hall pass. No, no THINK! What was The Boston Tea Party? Well, I remember Mama saying something about Indians and Tea. Lord! UGH! I should’ve studied! This test is so hard. “Salene?” GULP! Mr. Jeremy’s staring at me. Can he hear my thoughts? You’re a GREAT teacher, Mr. J! He beckons to me. I swallow hard and tiptoe to his desk. Mr. J isn’t that scary. In fact, he’s pretty average-looking. But his stubble and dark circles are too visible. He looks like a classic overworked man. Mr. J hands me a huge stack of papers, as I stare at his moving mouth. He’s got some unfortunately visible coffee-stained teeth. He walks me outside and closes the door. I gulp again and stare at the papers. What am i supposed to do with these papers? I have a severe problem when it comes to listening. Everything distracts me. I probably have ADHD. Mental Note: Consult School Counselor about ADHD pamphlet. I recognize Julie’s Mom’s handwriting. Julie’s nice but not real smart yet her Mom is such a typical class mom. She brings the class donuts on special days and always chaperones the field trips. I even hear she’s president of PTA! The stack is full of signed syllabi and attendance sheets. My flats squeak as I walk down the empty hallways. After a few minutes, I reach the office. It smells like bleach and air freshener. The office secretary looks up and smiles. Miss Kelly is so nice to everyone. Her husband died a few months ago from cardiac arrest. The funeral was held in our auditorium and almost everyone attended. Miss Kelly nearly broke down when Hillary gave the eulogy. She gave Miss K one of her famous back-pats. Miss Kelly straightens her glasses and smiles. “What’ll it be Sweet Pea?” she asks. I smile and hand her the stack. She straightens her glasses again and sets the stack down. She hands me two lollipops and waves goodbye to me. I stare at the second lollipop. As if on cue she says “For your Mother.” Mama don’t like lollipops. I smile and walk out the polished wood door. I head out and begin the long walk down the hall. There’s a water fountain near me. I’m sure Mr. J wouldn’t mind if i took a quick sip. Besides what’s the worst he can do? I doubt I’d get arrested for hydrating myself. Above the fountain, there’s a sign that says WHITES ONLY. I look around and I there’s no one in the hall. Now if Mama were here she’d slap the black off of me. She knows that I know better than to use a WHITES fountain. But Mama ain’t here and Little Sally’s feeling a bit rebellious. I walk towards the fountain and bend my head. I take a sip of the refreshing water. The water is much colder at this fountain. I hear footsteps behind me. “Well well, if it isn’t the rule-breaker! Honey, you can’t be here. Better scurry off to class before someone gets suspended.” I should’ve known. Who else wears high heeled rhinestone boots to school? I slowly turn around at stare at Cheryl Watson. I wanna strangle her right now. She furrows her perfectly penciled eyebrows at me and squints her perfect cat-eye lined eyes at me. She pouts out her perfectly plump pink lips and scowls. I gulp and blink back tears as I walk to class. I can feel Cheryl’s evil eyes on me. I open the door and sit back down. I’m too pissed to finish this test. I’m sitting at a table. By myself. I am absolutely sickened by what happened today. I poke at my chicken sandwich and take a sip of milk. I’m a big foodie but today I’m just not feeling it. The immediate sweetness of chocolate milk wakes me up a little. However the sweetness only lasts for a while.  A stack of binders slams next to me. “Babe, you are not yourself today!” Hillary yells. She looks at me and grabs my hand. “In….. and out…..” she breathes. I take a deep breath in and let it all out. Unfortunately, I let out more than what I expected. I let out a hitched breath and I feel the tears roll down my face. “Sal you are NOT okay!” Hillary pats my shoulder and baby-talks with me. She’s such an amazing person. After a few minutes of crying and whining I emerge from my friend’s shoulder. Everything is brighter and more vivid. Hillary brushes away a bang from my eyes. She takes me by the shoulder and drags me to the library. I notice Cheryl sitting on a table with her perfectly checkered skirt all smoothed out as she crosses her perfect Barbie-silicone legs. She lets out a high-pitched cackle and twirls her perfect black bangs. I play with the carpet as Hillary pep-talks me. “Sallio we need to fix this! You’re not a normally sad person, Baby! I’m here for you, ok?” I fill Hillary in on what happened. Hillary is taken aback as foul words spill from her mouth. “That filthy piece o-” The bell rings. She grabs her books, clearly ticked off, and marches away. I stare at the gray bus seat. All around me there are children laughing, high schoolers whispering dirty jokes to each other, and teachers blowing their whistles, wondering when the dismissal rush will be over. No one acknowledges the black girl sitting by herself with her head down. The bus starts and I stare outside. Hopefully, Mama didn’t have a screwed-up day like me. Hopefully. It’s so nice being a queen in a world full of clouds. All my servants stand by my side, decked out in bright jewels and clothing. I sit in my comfortable red velvet throne as I watch Cheryl being lowered into a guillotine by guards dressed in black. Her perfect face isn’t so perfect anymore while she is strapped down to her final resting place, as the executioner takes his place. My meal should be served soon and I shall watch the show as I munch on heavenly preparations. Ahhh.. This is the life! Wait a minute! A queen in a cloud world? I must be dreaming. Oh, look! Here comes a chef with a platter of food. It even has those fancy food covers that you get in restaurants you can’t afford. He has a curled orange mustache with a towel on his forearm. How fancy! I’m ready to tuck in. I slowly open the dish cover, only to find a miniature rubber school bus. It doesn’t look like it’s made of cheese. Sigh. At least I still get to watch Cheryl suffer. Wait! Where is she? Where are my guards and my servants? Where is the chef? Where is my throne? Everything fades away as a horrid noise emerges from the rubber bus. SCREEEEEECH!!! I’m jutted forward.  Stupid bus driver. I gather all my things. It’s not my fault I fell asleep. No one knows about the horrible day I had. Mama’s waiting in her Cad. Ever since Hillary saw that we got a Cadillac convertible, she always comes over. We don’t get our licenses for until another year, but that doesn’t stop Hill from trying to drive. Mama’s smiling as she waits in our car. She’s probably listening to Fitzgerald. Ella sure is the queen of soul. Her  A Tisket - A Tasket song done made us worship her! Mama looks like she had a nice day. But her face is all wrinkly and she doesn’t ever get wrinkles. Her eyes are red and splotchy. Has Mama been crying? I ain’t ever seen her cry after Daddy left us. I stand on the bus steps, while the driver sings to soul music.  I look behind me. I’m the last one to get off. I fix my stand on the last step. Mama waves at me and wipes her eyes. Oh my god. I don’t wanna get off this bus. Please, Lord. I don’t wanna face my Mama and her tears. Can I just disappear? “HEY!” I turn around “BABY, YOU GON’ GET OFF THIS BUS OR IS I GON’ MAKE YOU?!” Miss Dee look pissed. Her eyes are round and her mouth is fixed into a scowl. Even scarier than Cheryl. What do I do? I can feel the tears coming, but she ain’t gon’ care….. I swallow hard. Please Lord let me disappear… There’s a screech and all I feel is the hot sun, as I hit the grass. The taste of dirt coats my mouth and my faucet is on high-speed. I feel a warm liquid all over my face. All I wanna do is cry…… Thanks for the help, Lord.

I blink for a while as light seeps through my eyelids, burning my pupils. Is this Heaven? Glad I finally made it! I turn my head around and stare at my hand. There’s a clip and tape. Lots and lots of blue tape. There’s a needle going through the inside of my arm. Normally I would panic, because I hate shots. However, I watch the blood slowly drip.My focus blurs and I see Mama sitting at the wall reading a magazine. She looks at me with a startled realization and  hurriedly rushes to my bed. She holds me in a hug and kisses my head repeatedly. “Oh, baby I’m so sorry! Ella was hittin’ the high notes and then you hit the floor! Baby, does it hurt?” Mama’s face seethes with boiling anger. “Baby we gon’ get that bus driver, if its the last thing I do!! I don’t know who De’Nasia thinks she is but she ain’t ever gon’ harm my daughter again!” When Mama’s angry, her hood side comes out, meaning that she goes into full street slang. I look up and tears flood my eyes. Mama stares at me for a long time and cries too. We cry in unison as nothing but whimpers and gasps interrupt our silence. Mama looks at me and her eyebrows furrow. “Baby Girl, you stay strong, ok? We gon’ make it through this! Together baby, together!” The door handle turns and a middle-aged man with red beard steps in. He’s wearing a lab coat and specs. Professional doctor. Oh come on! That apple was supposed to keep the doctor away! He checks his clipboard and starts jabbering. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that your daughter has ruptured her skull. We will need approximately $200 for the surgery alone. And then we have therapy and rehabilitation costs.” Mama pulls out Daddy’s wallet and pulls out a $10. “I’m sorry but this is all I have! I don’t get my paycheck u-until” Mama looks at me with worry  “ Er I mean until next Friday” No. Way. Mama knows that I know she gets her salary every Tuesday. Mama is a well-paid nurse and she takes me out to eat every Friday. And she volunteers at the soup kitchen. We ain’t too poor. Mama works well, and her boss loves her. What happened to her boss? The doctor looks at Mama with disgust. “Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave Ma’am.” Before Mama can protest, a flood of nurses spill into my room and pull at my cords and unhook the wires. My IV tube is undone and wheeled to another needy patient. The heart monitor turns off and the flowers are whisked away. In a few minutes, I look at myself in the mirror. My head is all bandaged up. Ugh. I look ugly. Mama looks dismayed as she grabs her handbag. She holds my hand as we walk through the hospital corridors. Looks of disgust and curiosity greet us through the hallways. We pass a room where Doctor Racist-Red Beard is standing. He smiles at a young white couple as the wife rummages through her purse. The pair solemnly look at a bald little boy in the bedsheets. They stare at their cancer-ridden child as the doctor counts his money. Ugh, the nerve. Mama and I go through the “COLORED” exit. There’s a doorman at the “WHITE” exit, but no doorman at this one. Whatever. We can open doors ourselves anyway. We walk down the street and go into Mr. Hue’s Mess. Mr. Hue is my Grandma’s close friend and he has a passion for barbecue. Mama pays for our meal with the rejected $10. After lots of laughter and barbecue, Mama looks at me solemnly and sighs. She takes my hands in her wrinkly hands painted with pink nail polish. I stare contently at my mother’s deep brown eyes. I smile at her and nod. “Baby, there’s something I need to tell you.” she declares My smile drops. Mama squeezes my hand tight, as four stinging words arise from her lips. Each word accompanied by a tear. Each word stings me more than the previous. I hold back my tears and clench my teeth. Mama looks so beautiful with her jet black curls that frame her golden brown face. I notice a silver hair hidden behind all those curls and it dawns on me that one day I may not have Mama anymore. It dawns on me that one day she’ll need me more than i need her. The small cafe clears out as my mother sits before me, she being the only one i see and the only person in the world that i care about. Mama, being the only person for me. My Mama. I’ll help you through everything Mama, I promise. Pinkie Promise Forever and Ever.

“I lost my job.” Turns out Mama did have a screwed-up day. Just like me.

Our Beautiful GMC

We had a car.

This car that served us well.
In this car we went on family vacations
This car brought us to school everyday
This car was our 6th family member
This car was our Baby

In 2011 we bought a car. This car was very spacious and big to me. Back then.

We slipped on our heavy jeweled indian dresses and went into this new silver car that we were supposedly to make new memories with.

A two hour long ride later, we got out of our new car. Coconuts were thrown. Vermillion was applied and our new car looked like a furnished hindu god. We get back in and set off to our house. We rode in this car for the next 7 years.


This GMC brought my baby sister home, Her curious small eyes observing everything around her. Our dad’s endless facebook posts with “Babe” featuring him and his shiny silver car, often holding a beer. I think at these points Daddy loved the car more than his own wife! We laughed in this car, We cried in it too. We invited people in and even forced them out. Most of the time it was me. (I’m a very misbehaving child).

This car was our family. Sometimes My dad would teach us how to drive in this car. Often times i would be waiting and waiting for the car to show up at school. Sometimes i would be the only kid left at school. And so i would swing my feet under the railing and hope to see the familiar mug of our car with promises of shelter and happiness. It’s hard to describe but that face of our car was like another close knit face of a family member that stays seared into my mind. I won’t forget our Baby. I never will. That car carried me into my competitions, performances and even my first day of middle school!

It’s hard to believe that I’ve become so close with a machine. But that’s what memories do to you.  And our car always always always carried us safely to our home. Never was there a day when  we didn’t return home. Many of my friends have two or more cars. But our one car was just enough for us. And we had the biggest family.  Many days I would sit by myself in the back because I was moody. And who knows how many candy wrappers and coffee spills litter our car. Who knows how many valuable objects that we’ve been looking for are stuck in the seats?

I used to think that i would got to prom n that ar. That i would go to college in that car. Always a vision would play off in my mind that would be shipped off to college in another car. But i really don’t know why. But it’s ok. I’m ready to make new memories with this new car we have. And it’s so hard to believe but our NEW GMC ACADIA will drive me to prom and college! Wow! So I’m so ready to make new memories in this new car we have. And our GMC will always rest in our hearts. BUT now ur old GMC will hopefully be repaired and given to a new family to start some beautiful memories just like we did. And now we’re ready to start some new memories with this car. And then eventually we’ll let it go and get a new one. And the car cycle will continue. But for now i’ll stay in the present. Because the future is filled with great things yet to come. I love our car and i will learn to love this one too. Thank you GMC for giving us a car to make memories with.

Thank You from the bottom of our hearts.

Decisions for the Determined

Sometimes I feel like nothing is going right

And I just want to stop

Stop everything

It’s like I’m stuck in a path of four crossways

And here I am

Stuck in the middle

Destined to be stuck forever

And always

Just letting the pain absorb me as I fade away

The light is at the far end of the tunnel

But I’m too scared to cross it.

No one knows of the dangers in the darkness

And one must sacrifice everything to find the light

Even if the light is just a small flickering lantern.

We do so much for that light.

Always searching for new ways to achieve happiness when in reality

We’re not

And we feel like we never will be

And I’ll keep hoping and praying that someday I’ll succeed

In this maze called “Life”

The walls are too high

And the water is too deep

And I’m stuck here contemplating everything I can do.

I’m stuck deep in my thoughts when really

I should be acting

Why should I sit here and think when there is a world out there for me to explore?

Maybe if I’m determined I can get it done

Only if I’m really determined

I see the light coming closer

And I feel like I am ready for this.

I’m coming for you, Oh shining light!

You Changed Me

Dear Aayat,

Hey! You may never read this, but i’ll waste my time anyway. Hey Aayat. Your name has made me smile, made me curse, made me cry. I will never forget you. Never.

You see.. Manushree Navaneethakrishnan may have just been a period in your life. Just another friend that came and went. Because you were probably skilled in the art of friend-dumping. I was just another one of your tests. Another victim. But you. You are going to be a pinnacle in my lifetime. Aayat Ali. Your name makes my blood boil. It makes me want to peel my skin off. I have no words for u. None. I probably won’t have the guts to send this to u ( i also have no idea how to) But you.You..

Maybe I’m just so damn crazy. Why do i relive every moment with u. Why do I light up when i hear your name. Why do i seethe with anger when i hear it? I don’t know.

I was probably Manushree, the girl who never stopped smiling, the girl who had no damn feelings or emotions. But you know what?  I do. You don’t know how you changed my life immensely. You will never know the  amount of days i spent crying. How i teared up after your words. How i propped my binder on my desk so i wouldn’t have to see your face. I sat on the stairs that day, contemplating my life. Aayat you changed me. I don’t hate you or love you. I don’t know. I will never know until the day i die. I will forever wonder why...

Maybe you don’t really collect it. Let me set the scene for u. It’s a Thursday.. I’m so damn pissed  because some girl verbally fought with me after i accidentally ruined one of Evie’s Markers. I stand at my locker awaiting you. I need someone to cry to. Someone who will comfort me. Tell me it’s okay. You arrive. Your tall frame swaying side to side with your bouncy hair. You clutch your binders to your chest. But your not smiling. Your eyes aren’t scrunched up and your lips aren’t wide and stretched. Your olive skin is weary and your eyes are lifeless.  You do your combination. And open your locker. I stare at your perfectly painted purple nails and the charm bracelets that gleam on your wrist. You get down on your knees and pick up your math binder. I bend along with u. I stare as you you utter that final sentence. I still remember it. It will always be in my head. You lower your head and speak in a small voice.,”Manushree, I don’t think we should be friends anymore.” My heart breaks. A million pieces shattered. My heart turns to dust. I feel the waterfall. Everything is blurred as water forms in my eyes. I see your blurry shape walk away, hair swaying side to side. I walk slowly to math class. I sit at my table and i clearly see you working on homework. Smiling. I prop up my pink binder and cover you up. I can’t see you but the pain is still there. It throbs throughout my body.

Aayat Ali.The main reason why you trouble me. I never did know why we stopped being friends.

Fast-Forward to a few months. 3 days before DI State Competitions. You walk up to me and scream. I stare at your eyes, smoldering with anger. My ears are filled with loud words. But i keep staring. All the hate and everything i kept back, wells up in me. I can’t hold in everything anymore….

I yell the truth. I never said what i wanted to say. Something about too much song, script is unfair , something like that. I don’t know. But what i do know is that i felt happy. I broke out of your jail that held me for so long.

What you don’t know, Aayat, is that i took a long walk after that. What you don’t know is that i stopped and started crying. I collapsed right in the middle of that hall. What you don’t know is that Delaney held me in her arms. She told me it was going to be OK. And she was right.

I was scrolling through my random docs and found something. When we were friends, you shared your realistic fiction story with me. I have spent the last 10 minutes reading your story.

And I have to compliment you! It was very interesting. As i read it, I couldn’t stop thinking about us. The way we were inseparable friends. Remember how we broke borders? A Pakistani and Indian were Best friends! I thought we would stay that way. I thought we would end up in college together. Heck, i thought we would live together. Too soon. Too soon. I assumed. Assumed that we would be BFF’s. BFF stands for “Best Friend Forever” you were my Best Friend For 2 months. Why is it gone? The Spark we had? All tarnished and ruined.

It’s just a heartfelt sad story, isn’t it. But no no no. Honey, My story is not over. You may have broken me but you built me. Your words and your actions tore me apart. But they made me realize how strong i am. Because of you, i learned that not everyone will like me. Because of you, i won spelling bees, won awards, and became class president. Why? Because Aayat Shazhad Ali was born into this world. So you’re not my enemy or friend. You’re my Not Applicable. I remember sitting in the nurse’s office crying saying I lost my best friend today. She asked me ‘Did she die’. I said no. But in a way you did. You died in me. The little part of my brain that praised you had gone.

So that leads me to conclude this. You probably will never read it, but whatever. I will have the satisfaction of sending it to you. For once i won’t be a coward trapped In your Jail. Aayat i hope my name stays in your head forever, so you know how i feel about u. I hope you understand that I’m not just an optimistic little princess. Aayat, I am a Young Woman with feelings and emotions. And i hope you know that.

You’re probably enjoying your life in your new school with your new friends, that you’ll eventually dump someday. They will all have their Aayat time in their life. You may not even remember me Aayat but i will always always always remember you. You’re not the friend who didn’t quite make it. You’re not the friend that i hate. You are the Girl that Changed my life. So thank you for everything you put me through because it made me realize that i have a voice and a mind. Thank you from the bottom of my mending heart. I will never forget you, Aayat Ali. You Changed Me, Aayat !!

Your Transformed Friend - Manushree Navaneethakrishnan

"A Traveler By Heart" : Anthony Bourdain

There's nothing more adventurous than travel. Tony, you will be remembered. I will never forget the nights when my family and I would seat ourselves in front of our TV and eat crab with absolutely NO dignity. We didn't care if it would tarnish our respect. We ate with pride like hugry cavemen. And what did we watch as we teared apart our poor prey? Well, it was you. My parents didn't care if your show advised parental discretion. They wanted us to watch the culture and the difference decorated in your TV shows. I admired the way you were never scared to try new things (not just food). In the Tijuana episode, you were so happy when roasted crickets were served in front of you. You called them "The BEST Side Dish." How could a sophisticated travel host enjoy crickets? That's the magic you put in us. That gleam in your eyes as you set eyes upon the food served in front of you. I could see that you DIDN'T take food for granted. And it wasn't just about food. How you related it with general life. How you spoke about the excitement of new things. I know it must've been hard, not seeing your family. I know that life wasnt the best for you. How you were repeatedly pressured to stop what you LOVED doing. What you worked so hard for. How COULD you just push it away after one suggestion. This is your life's work. You had so much more time. So much more time to be with your family. So much more time to explore this amazing world. So much more time to LIVE. But you chose to throw it away. You chose to toss it away like a failed dish. Why? You worked SO hard to make this dish. And in the end YOU'RE the one who tosses it away. I used to be a hater of suicide. The thought of it made my blood boil. How could someone just take their own life in hopes of it becoming better? I was SHOCKED to hear that you did this? You're not just affecting yourself.  "Think about Me" and fans like us. Think about your family. Your loving wife. Your 11 year old daughter! You'll never get to see her graduate. You'll never hold her arm as she walks down the white aisle. But what's the use of it now?! The job's done! You got what you wanted. Or maybe you didn't want it. It doesn't matter anymore. But you are still my inspiration. You don't need to worry anymore. You have made your mark in this world. Hopefully, you try new things; wherever you are. You were always like our 6th family member. I remember sitting in front of the TV: My parents had glasses filled with beer. And as my dad slowly slunk into the world of drunk-ness, he would slip this one really old joke that never failed to make us laugh. He would start speaking about the title, "Parts Unknown." "Look at this guy! He should've thought of a more careful name instead of Parts Unknown!", he would joke as he sipped his drink. He had the dream to take you to Madurai, South India. he wanted you to see the culture and art of this South Indian Treat. But he never got to. Tony, did you WANT an entire nation to mourn you?! Because we ARE mourning! We want you to come back. I wish i could take a time machine and stop your death. I wish Eric sat with you in that hotel room. I wish you guys drunkenly cried about death, instead of actually experiencing it. I wish i was there to tell you NOT to do this! To tell you that you have an entire world of inspired people. I wish you were alive. I wanted to MEET you in person! But now i will never get to do that. I want you to know that i will MAKE my future kids watch your series. I wanted ANTHONY BOURDAIN to be in their blood. I want them to follow in your footsteps. Your shows made my family. We are travel folk. When we went to the Bahamas, we tasted conch for the FIRST TIME at a restaraunt, while everyone ate at the cruise ship. We didnt care if it would food poison us or kill us. It was the idea of trying something new. And that is only because of YOU! I dont know where you are now, and I honestly think you shouldn't have commited suicide. You had many more years. However you will always be in our hearts forever. Your love of travel will always stay in my next generations to come. An author once said "The greatest risk is not taking one". And Tony, You took so many! May you Rest In Peace, Anthony Bourdain! I will always be "HUNGRY FOR MORE!".


I'm a 13 year old girl Manushree Nawin, who is grief - stricken at the news of the famous Traveler, Writer, Chef's death. This article is only a sliver of my love for Anthony Bourdain. I'm mad at him, but I don't know how to feel anymore. Anthony Bourdain will be a "Truly Exceptional Human being" that will hopefully be remembered for all of time.

Clarinet Composure and Centrals

"TUNE AND SOUND"

Music is a world of creativity. Welcome to the fundamentals of the clarinet! When properly played, the clarinet produces a beautiful sound. But, if there is even one mistake or slip-up, the clarinet will make a very annoying squeak! Squeaking is essential to the clarinet, because squeaking is like your notification that something is wrong.
 

I’m sure every successful clarinetist has squeaked at least a hundred times. Anyway, everything needs to be perfect, if you want your clarinet to make a proper sound. You need to have perfect posture, good embouchure, and a working clarinet. Let’s focus on posture, first. You should always have a straight back and your feet should be on the floor. You should always be attentive, and focused. Posture is essential to tune and sound.

A good tune happens, when you blow an even stream of air that can be distributed among the instrument. Good air flow can help your tune. A clarinetist; Paula Corley says that clarinetists should voice their mouth in the vowel “E”. You should always have a tight lock around your mouth piece, and good embouchure. Embouchure is how you keep your face in band. If playing the clarinet, you should have a good posture, and have tight lips around the mouthpiece. You make a “too” noise, as you bump your tongue against the reed. 

Having a working clarinet is also very important. It can be very frustrating, to deal with a broken instrument, thinking you’re the problem! If everything is perfect You are ready to go!  Now we need to talk about heavy and strong air flow. Don’t puff out your cheeks or suck in air. Create a long breeze of air, that you can feel from your lungs and out through the bell. If you imagine a long string from your lungs through your clarinet, you can achieve this. A strong sound is key. Sometimes you can make airy sounds, and it doesn’t sound right. It shouldn’t sound like you’re hearing an actual clarinet; it should sound like a recording. That is how pure it should sound! Keeping in beat also helps with tune. If you feel confident, then your sound will be beautiful.

Woodwindintation.weebly.com says that high and low notes can help with tune. Playing challenging or high notes can warm you up for practice time. It recommends using vowels while adjusting pitch. Keeping your mouth in different ways changes pitch so you can adjust. Now that I think about it; I’ve been playing the clarinet with my mouth held in an “E” shape this entire time! In sixth grade I used to have a lot of trouble with my instrument. I figured it was because of my posture! I was given this book in sixth grade, called “Tradition of Excellence”. 

The book states that you should keep your chin parallel to the floor, and your elbows away from your clarinet and knees. Keeping your clarinet at a 45-degree angle can also help. You will always need necessary items to have a successful practice time. A metronome will help you keep beat. If you can’t buy a metronome, just download a metronome app on a phone. You should be able to keep beat that way. If practicing pieces of music, you should always use a music stand, to read your paper.

 If you have music to practice, always have it in front of you! Memorizing a piece is great, but I recommend you do that after you’ve learned the entire piece. This way you can always learn more during practice! On a blog, I discovered that you shouldn’t pinch the corners of your reed. It also says to voice “E’s”. Voicing seems like a good technique for many clarinetists. Pitch is very important, especially for beginners. 

When my sister started playing, the notes were so airy, and out of tune! I alerted her about this, and I taught her how to apply pressure. If you really blow in a nice even stream of air, you will make a nice sound. Do not puff out your cheeks! Puffing out your cheeks will make it even more hard to play. Many people use a double fold lip to play the clarinet. 

I would recommend this: fold your bottom lip and place your front teeth directly on the mouthpiece. This way you can produce a good sound. There’s nothing more magical than playing your very first note or sound on an instrument! After that milestone, you successfully enter the world of music. Where struggles become high notes and triumphs will be satisfied playing.

SOUND PRODUCTION 

When I first started playing, I learned my very first note (Middle C). This note had a nice tang to it, as it was low and high! This year I started taking private lessons. My teacher introduced me to this cool new technique/teaching method. He said that if students learned the high notes, first they would breeze through the low ones. I have got to agree! Moving to the upper register or “crossing the break” is a bit of a pain in the back! 

The picture below is the literal definition of the one thing that BUGS me about this instrument! The picture shows a b flat to natural transition! Just one little note change, right? WRONG! A b flat is the “A” key and the register key together. A b natural is when you press every single darn key on the clarinet! Maybe, that’s why Squidward is bad at playing the clarinet! 

Anyway, whatever you feel about it, reaching the upper register is a big step for all clarinetists! 

 

Clarinet sound is produced with good embouchure, posture, and 99% enthusiasm! I became a clarinet

 

player by accident, because some person told me to play the clarinet to train for saxophone! But I’m 

 

kind of happy that I made that mistake, or else I wouldn’t be here writing this! I love my instrument, 

 

and I really hope you enjoyed reading this! Until next time, clarinet companion!                                                                                                                                                             

THE FRIENDS WHO WEREN’T

7:45 am. A dry hand reaches out to open the glass door. It was cold out. A morning filled with fog, and dew. The parking lot was sprinkled with students wanting to go back home. She was a small girl. Barely four feet. Though Garnet never wanted to get up in the morning, she knew today would be a good day. Even the weather smiled at her! It was only November, and it was starting to get cold! Maybe, it would snow soon, and she wouldn’t have to go to school. The thrill of Christmas kept on tapping her on the back, as she counted down the days until winter break. Tangled in her thoughts, she almost forgot a huge line was behind her. Slowly she pushes the handle. She steps in, but is pushed back by a hyper child. After a big herd of students, the girl finally comes in. She wears a toothless smile. She walks slowly to a wooden door, and she is again pushed back. Finally, she gets in. She is blinded by a white light. She looks over at two girls sitting on the ground. One is happily chatting away, her deep dark brown hair swaying behind her. The other girl has a sneer and is adjusting her rhinestone encrusted necklace. The girl staring at her friends happily skips to them, her long black braided hair hitting her festive backpack.

The happy girl spots her, and yells,”Hey Garnet! Over here!” Garnet walks to her friends and sits down.

The girl adjusting now, her hair, gives  Garnet a reluctantsmile.”What’s up, Sapph?”, exclaims Garnet. 

Sapph ignores. Hapi, the girl with the dark brown hair, starts talking about the upcoming fall party. Since, her day was already kind of a blow, Garnet decide to brighten up her day, and everyone else’s, so she cracked a joke.

“Hey, Sapph! Mrs. Ivey’s standing above you!” Sapph looks up, scared, and realizes that the teacher wasn’t looking at her.

Garnet laughs and says,”Made you look!”

Sapph bangs her fist on the gym floor, and screams,”You’re a liar, Garnet! Heads turn to the two arguing girls.. An echoing ‘ooooooh’ is heard throughout the gym. The loud bell pierces the noise. Sapph slams into Garnet, as she stomps to class, Hapi trailing behind her.

Sapph yells to Garnet,” You’re gonna get into BIG trouble at recess!” Garnet catches a lump in her throat. She tries to swallow, but it doesn’t help. Her face had lost most of the sunshine she had. She tried to blink back tears as she walked to math.

Sapph is seen pushing Garnet to Hapi, who has an evil smirk, that is so unlike her. Hapi pushes Garnet back to Sapph. Garnet is stuck in a never ending metronome.

“STOP!!” Garnet’s voice echoes throughout the playground. No matter how much she pleads, she is stuck in the infinite metronome. A woman’s voice pierces her screams.

It gently calls,”Garnet? Garnet! GARNET!!” Garnet opens her eyes, and sees pitch black. She lifts up her head and sees Mrs. Ivey glaring at her. Garnet instantaneously picks up her pencil, and scribbles aimlessly.

“What do these numbers mean?”, she said, inside her head. Her thoughts were interrupted by an ear splitting noise. Garnet wakes up from her deep immense thoughts, and warily walks to the lunchroom.

An aromatic smell drifted through the cafeteria. Kids scrunch up their noses, as the smell passes.

A girl with chestnut hair disgustingly asks Garnet, ”EW! What is that!

Garnet sneers and says,”Its unique food that I like!” The girl gives a weird grimace, and turns her back. No kid would sit with Garnet, because of the food she brought to school. Garnet turns her stare to her two friends, sitting at the next table. Hapi is chatting away with a red head. Sapph is checking her reflection in her container lid. She puts the lid down, and looks at Garnet. She gruesomely smiles.

Garnet warily walks down the hall, tears rolling off her cheeks, and landing onto her black puffy jacket. She is shoved by a rosy cheeked blond boy, who doesn’t even stop to apologize. He smacks her water bottle out of her hands. It rolls onto the floor. She grabs it and wipes her tears, and she pushes the handle to the playground. The sun blinds her instantaneously, and after several seconds of pitch black, she could see again. Garnet could see children on the swings. Children running and chasing each other. Teachers talking and gossipping. Garnet walks, almost forgetting that she was about to told on. Garnet prays to god, that Sapph wasn’t there, but she is walking toward her, with an evil smirk on her face.

Sapph looks at  Garnet, and tells her,”Now you’ll stop being such a liar!” She sashays away and grabs Hapi by the elbow. Hapi looks like she’s about to hesitate, but she shuts up. Garnet curses in her mind.

”What a friend!”, she says internally. She sees them walking to Mrs. Schuster. The teacher beckons to her. The world fades…..

Garnet stands before the teacher. Mrs. Schuster stares coldly into Garnet;s deep black eyes. Garnet could feel her amber eyes staring into the depths of her pupils. Mrs. Schuster has a delicate smile. She claps Garnet on the back.

”Make sure not to lie Sweetie, lying is bad!”, she gently speaks. Garnet stares at her dimples, her white teeth, polished with deep brown lipstick.

Garnet feels her heel turn, and she is walking away. She needs to get to someplace, anyplace, with no one or life. She wanted to go away forever and sulk, for the rest of her life. Garnet saw a secluded yellow tube with an assortment of plastic windows. She slowly walked to the tube, unable to hold back tears. As she took steps, she noticed Sapph and Hapi at the corner of her eye. Sapph had a satisfied smile. Hapi’s face was red. She had tears, all over her face, knowing she just lost her very first and best friend. Hapi is so disappointed in herself. She questions herself.  She wants to rip Sapph into a billion little pieces. She wants Sapph to get into trouble, not Garnet. She wants to walk up to Garnet and give her a big warm hug. But she can’t. She knows that Garnet won’t be better. Garnet won’t be comforted.

After walking for what seemed like forever, Garnet finally reached the tube. She climbed in and sat on both knees. Her red pants had drops of magenta, from her tears. Her tears ran down her face. All she wanted was to forget what happened! To wake up and it was all just a dream. She sadly stares out the window. She sees Sapph and Hapi through the window. Sapph is soaring to high heights on her swing. Hapi’s face is barely seen, her brown hair covers her face, as she slumps on the swing.

Garnet refrained from thinking about anything. There was no more happiness left in her. She stares out the window again, and sees Mrs. Ivey scolding a blonde boy. She didn't even laugh like how she would've done. She stopped staring and thought about hatred. She hated everything at that moment. She didn't think about how her family would welcome her home. Or her pregnant mother who would smother her with kisses.or her little sister would playfully punch her. She couldn’t think of any of that. That happiness was far from consoling her. It wouldn’t help. She sulked in that lonely tunnel, knowing that no one loved her. No one would care! Not a soul would sit next to her and comfort her. Oh, how she longed for that warmth!

A soft tender voice came out of nowhere. “Hello? Are you ok?”, it gently pondered. For a split second, Garnet thought it was her own voice. She looked around. No one was there. She longed to hear that voice again. Something about it had a tiny shred of hope. She needed that hope. A small hand reached into the tunnel. It was followed by a tender face, laden with brown eyes, that twinkled, as light danced in them.

Her big chocolate eyes were curious, as a single strand of frizzy hair, fell on her brow. Garnet focused on the girl’s naturally rosy lips, as she spoke.

Garnet thought it was cute as she stuttered. “H-hi! My name’s  P-peridot! But I guess you can call me Peri!”, she rambled. Peri stuck out her bracelet clad hand. Garnet shook it, glumly. Peri’s eyes grew big with curiosity, but the light stopped dancing in them. She was serious.

She asked,”What’s wrong?” Garnet did not want to reply. After several seconds, of silence, she raised her hand and pointed a trembling finger at the two girls on the swings. Peri seemed to perfectly understand. She gives Garnet an unexpected hug. The hug was warmth. Garnet liked the warmth. She hugged Peri as hard as she could. Then suddenly, a spark! A burst of light. The light that would lure her from the darkness. Garnet felt it burn her heart. She liked the burn. She wanted to follow its command. Garnet wiped her tears, with one swipe of her jacket. Garnet attempted to lift her numb legs.                 And for the first time, her first words to Peri were,”Come on! Let’s get out of this miserable place!” With that, she stepped out, Peri trailing behind her. She knew that she should’ve done this a long time ago!

Garnet felt happiness. She felt courage. She could not believe she was about to do this! She trudged to those two girls, along with Peri. She saw Sapph eyeing her, as she got off of her swing. Hapi got up too, her hair shading her face. Sapph stomped to Garnet.

“Well, if it isn't the liar! Why are you here? Came to tell yet another lie?”, she cackled. Garnet felt her cheeks getting hot. Garnet shrugged off the fury. Garnet regained her step, and went right up to Sapph and Hapi. Except that Hapi had distanced herself away from Sapph. Hapi didn't even want to look at Garnet. She crumbled under the pressure.

Garnet yelled. “A friend is one who cares about her buddy. They make her laugh. They pick her up when she’s fallen. A friend is someone who you trust your life with.”, Garnet added slowly. Hapi trembled and whined as she stood in the shadow of her own shame. Garnet turned her stare to Sapph.

She deliberately spoke,”Sapph! You were never my friend! What kind of friend are you? What kind of friend ditches her friends? What kind of friend frequently discourages her friends? Or in this case, ex-friends!” Sapph tries to hold her sneer, and her mean composure, but it was clearly visible that her emotion was drastically changing.

Garnet forgets about that mean old Sapph! She turns to trembling Hapi. Garnet holds back her tears as she spoke.”Remember that day, i came into preschool, for the very first time? Remember when you gave me a hopeful smile. Told me, that i was going to be okay. Well, look at me Hapi! Do i look okay to you! Tell me Hapi, tell me!”, Garnet cried as she looked deep into Hapi’s once lively eyes. Hapi runs up to Garnet and wraps her arms around her. She whispers into her friend’s ears,”I’m so, so sorry! Garnet didn’t want to hear it. But she hugged Hapi for one last time.

Garnet turns her heel, and slowly walks away. Tears roll down her cheeks, as pictures came to her mind. A little girl blows out her candles, as another girl stands next to her. Two girls playing hide and seek. A big hug shared by two girls. Just two. “Just two, she whispered as she walked. Her tears stopped as more pictures came to mind. Two girls hugging. A girl breaks the hug. Garnet’s friend goes to the girl. Garnet feels her feet crushing the mulch. A girl under the spell of popularity. Garnet wants to look back but she can’t bring herself to do it.

Garnet takes Peri by the hand. Kids are lining up to go inside. Garnet and Peri walk to the line, as if they were escaping an explosion. Garnet knew that she wouldn’t sit with Sapph and Hapi tomorrow. She would never ever sit with them again. Though many might say Garnet was foolish to take such a little thing to heart, it is not foolish.

Garnet’s friends did much more, that was too painful to think about. Being only a second grader, Garnet took the decision to leave her friends. Though it ached her heart, she knew it was what she needed to do. Garnet and Peri reached the line. Peri squeezed Garnet’s hand. She gave her a warm smile. Behind them, Sapph and Hapi trembled, as they limped, arm in arm. Sapph had finally started crying. Sapph would never forgive herself. Hapi had straightened up, as she comforted Sapph. Sapph and Hapi would start their own story. No Garnet. Just them. Two girls. Garnet was happy to be out of that miserable friendship triangle. The bell rang.

Garnet and Peri said at the same time, to each other,”Let’s do this!” Garnet did not know it, but Peri would be her best friend for the next five years. But that’s another story!

Manushree Navaneethakrishnan