MY SMALL CUBICLE

By Lubnah Abdulhalim

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

 

My life has always been like a small cubicle office with different frequent visits from different people. My mum always saw me having new visitors at home or laughing on a phone call from someone new and she’d always ask ‘who is it this time? A friend from school?’ And my answer was mostly a no because I rarely had friends but I had a friend of my friend, the neighbour to my friend, the classmate of my friend, the cousin to my friend, my sister’s friend etc etc

My mum came to barely remember any names or even faces because people quickly came into my small cubicle and as quickly, exited it. A name would be familiar for some days and just as sudden as the name appeared into my life, it faded away as soon as one had had their loved ones back, had new friends, had had enough of my entertainment..had stopped feeling lonely..had gotten enough strength to stand on their feet once again. And another would appear. So she’d ask ‘where do you come up with new friends out of nowhere, just all of a sudden? ‘

‘Destiny…’ I’d mumble.

I got used to the idea that everything is temporary. I am temporary; I was meant to be temporary..and I’d always wondered when I’d meet my permanent people?

Nonetheless I’ve learnt to enjoy these short visits to my small cubicle; the little laughters, the little secrets, the little jokes, the thrilling stories, shared experiences..I had served my purpose in their lives by giving them what they needed and they had served in mine; by giving me the little joy that I’ll always cherish. It’s called compromise.

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Author

A freelance writer, journalist, poet and blogger venturing mainly in social and community issues, study and analysis of behaviour and life, and the plight of the under-dogs in the society. 'I feed on human stories.'

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