I’ve just begun writing. My first book was an eruption of expression resulting from the suppression of two decades of yearning to become a writer. But now, as I embark on writing my second book, I want to refine my writing skills and become a better writer. So I gave myself fifteen awesome writing drills — no shortcuts, no cheating. Here is the fourth one.
Exercise 4 — Emotion Without Labels
Goal: Convey emotion via action, perception, somatic detail, and thought — with zero emotion words.
Prompt: Receiving life-altering bad news over a crackly phone line.
Target Length: 1,200 words
I had been sitting on the couch all morning, staring blankly at the bare walls. Whenever lucidity came on, I gazed around the apartment, taking in the minimal living room, the kitchen in the corner, and the coffee table in front of me, with several colorful magazines scattered on it. It was only when the sun finally flooded into the living room through the windows that I realized it was late afternoon and I had spent the whole day, once again, doing nothing.
I became aware that my stomach was grumbling. I hadn’t had breakfast or lunch, intentionally. I was saving the cereal and milk for dinner. I went hungry all day and ate one meal at night, extending my meagre food rations. Why the night? Well, sleeping on an empty stomach that never stopped growling and rumbling was close to impossible. This, of course, was detrimental to my body in the long run. Last year, around this time, I weighed 66 kilograms; I am now only 49 kilograms. I don’t know how long I can keep up this negative regimen. Either I will disappear into thin air, or something will change, and I will rediscover the joy of toast and eggs, bacon, and avocados for breakfast, chicken and rice, and a glass of wine for lunch.
‘I could eat the cereal now.’
‘Too early, wait till at least 8 pm.’
I walked away from the kitchen, towards the sun-drenched windows. I bent down and rested my chin on the sill, watching the passing tram car. I spotted a little kid running down the street with an ice cream cone in his hands. My stomach grumbled harder. I stood up, went back inside, and walked in circles around the coffee table, then around the kitchen.
And just then my phone rang. My heart beat faster, my vision blurred. I had been expecting the call, but now that it came through, my hands shivered. The phone kept ringing, the ringtone echoing in the apartment, loud and shrill. I stood there, with my hands folded, breathing heavily, my heart pounding in my chest.
I finally picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi, this is Jim from cas**cady** solut**ns. Am I speaking to Shaunak?”
“Yes, this is him.” The line crackled; I pushed the phone harder to my ears and spoke louder than usual.
“How are you, Shaunak?”
“I am great, how are you?”
“The weather has been crazy, but nothing we can’t handle. How about you? It states that you are based in Brussels. How is the weather there?”
“It’s great, it has gotten cold, but no snow until now.” I put a smile on my face and twirled around as I replied.
“So, this call is about your application for the int*rn po**tion.” The lined crackled, swallowing Jim’s words, important words, words that I was waiting to hear.
My legs shook vigorously. Holding the phone to my ear, I tore small pieces of paper off a magazine on the kitchen counter and rolled them into tight balls.
“Yes, I had applied, hmmm, I think a few weeks back.” I was throwing the paper balls into the trash bin, aiming for it even as I spoke.
“So we went through your application, and we must say we were impressed by your past work experiences. The cover letter was truly moving.”
I punched the air above my head and silently mouthed a ‘yess!’, but maybe a tiny part of that preemptory celebration leaked out and fell into the phone receiver. I mouthed an ‘oops, and listened carefully to Jim to see if he heard my whooping. Maybe not.
There was a lot of disturbance in the line. I could’ve asked him to call back, but this was far too important. What if he took offense and didn’t call back? I couldn’t risk it, could I?
“Thank you, Jim. I have been working hard for the last few years, and it is slowly starting to show. I am grateful you saw that in my resume.”
“Yes, of course, Shaunak. You have great potential. We all felt that you would be a great fit for the role.”
I was jumping up and down and running around the kitchen and then the living room. My shoulders felt light, and my head a little less heavy. I looked at the calendar and the big cross against the 19th, just two days from now. The words scribbled on it, visa expiring. I walked to the table and flipped up my mother’s framed photograph. If this worked, I could stay back and pay back student debt, and my mom could keep her house. She won’t end up on the streets. I can finally call her back and give her the good news, and she can call the bank guys and ask them to fuck off.
“Shaunak, are you there?”
“Yes, yes, I am here, right here, Jim.” I was staring absently at the walls.
“Great, I thought I lost you there. So, we are prepared to offer you the job, but there is one thing that we need to clarify.”
“Sure, Jim. Go ahead.”
“Could you tell me if you are allowed to take up employment in the EU?”
Everything around me became monochromatic. The house looked dark. I flopped onto the sofa, held my forehead, and breathed in raggedly.
“Shaunak, are you there? Hello… hello…”
My reply was stuck in me like rocks in a brook, refusing to budge. I had to pull the words out by force, dragging them out.
“Yes, yes, Jim. There seems to be some problem with the line, but I can hear you now.”
“Great, Shaunak, I was asking if you are allowed to take up employment in the EU?”
I stood up, took in a deep breath, and replied, “Well, Jim, I am still on a student visa and I am not allowed to take up a job on that visa, but if your organization considered me for a work permit, then I would be allowed to take up employment.”
Silence.
‘Maybe, just maybe, they will do it, at least one of them can do it. He said it himself, I was perfect for the role,’ I thought to myself.
More silence.
“Hey Jim, are you there?” I was vigorously massaging my brow in anticipation now.
“Yes, yes, Shaunak, I am here.”
Silence. Odd. Why? Out with it, Jim. I can take it. I have been rejected over 190 times in the last few months since completing my Master’s.
Still waiting, I tore pages out of the magazine in front of me and threw them onto the floor.
The line crackled. Jim’s voice came through, finally!
“I am sorry for keeping you on hold, Shaunak. I have bad news: we wouldn’t be able to provide you with a work permit, as this opening is only for EU citizens. Also, I just read in the cover letter that you have very clearly mentioned your visa status; it was an oversight from our side. Please accept my apology.
“Sure, Jim, that’s fine. Thank you for the call.”
My jaws clenched, and my mouth dried up. I had no more energy to hold myself up; my feet felt weak, and my palms were sweaty. I flopped to the floor.