COMING HOME1
A Short Story by Nida Sheriff2
Nav’s head raced as she walked towards the towering glass arrivals gate at the airport. Let’s just get this over with , she thought to herself. The automated sliding doors opened and she breathed in the stifling humidity of a summer night in Dubai. She looked around at the dozens of strange faces waiting for loved ones and tourists to come through the exit and, for a moment, reverted to her self-conscious, frumpy teenage self. They’re probably right in front of me, watching me make a fool of myself . She felt her cheeks flush and her hair clung to the back of her neck. She let go of the handle of her suitcase to shake off her hooded jacket and clumsily fold it, her loose hair falling over her face as she leaned over slightly. 3
“Hi Sweetie,” she heard her father’s voice from behind her.4
Nav turned around on the spot and smiled at her father and sister. 5
“Hi! How long did you wait? I told you I’d take a cab…”6
Nav’s father furrowed his brow as though she had said something offensive – one of the many tiny things that chafed at her nerves about this family. He took the handle of her small suitcase and began dragging it out towards the parking lot. 7
A half hour later they were approaching the apartment building they’d spent the last ten out of sixteen years in the country. Nav saw the familiar landmarks, an institution-like supermarket, the apartment buildings where childhood friends had once resided, and the neighbourhood mosque that brought about an inexplicable and unstirring peace inside her. In Marseilles, she had often driven up to the one local mosque there and sat outside in her car. She had felt the familiar serenity and the kinship with the dutiful worshippers she saw entering and leaving, but she never went inside – by now she was too removed from faith.8
Inside the elevator Nav began to feel the mounting dread that stemmed from having to see her mother. The woman who asked a thousand questions for the only purpose of needing to know every irrelevant, insignificant detail of somebody else’s life, even if it was her own daughter’s. 9
The familiar “ting!” of having arrived at the sixth floor sounded, and Nav’s mind snapped shut, like a steel trap, and her thoughts were blank – her trusty defence mechanism. Her body was moving solely from instinct, her mind a steady silence. Let’s just get this over with . 10
Nav stepped into the flat. Nothing had changed since the day she had left. The matching sofa set, the position of the TV, even the mix of souvenirs and worthless statuettes on the showcase held their original posts. She flung her bag onto the smaller of the two sofas from habit and lay back casually on the larger one. The familiarity of her own actions scared her – but she wouldn’t allow herself to be sucked back into the mindless routine of these people.11
“Where’s Mum?” she asked, feigning casual disinterest. Her mouth was dry.12
Nav’s father walked briskly to her parents’ bedroom.13
“She’s sleeping,” he answered shortly when he returned, looking obviously angry. “She said she didn’t know you were coming today. Why didn’t you tell her?” 14
“I don’t know! I thought you guys would tell her. Why is communication so damned difficult in this family?” 15
“Well, what does she expect? She knows I can’t stand to talk to her anyway,” her sister was already getting intolerable, volatile as her temperament was. 16
Their father let out the deep, dramatic sigh that usually followed anything to do with their mother. Nav was too tired – from her long flight and twenty years of familial contact – to take up the role of dutiful mediator, turn the other cheek, and cheerfully change the subject. She picked herself up off the sofa and went to her bedroom to unpack, and then go to bed. 17
Nav awoke the next morning stiff-legged and heavy-headed. She stared at the ceiling as the events of the previous night came back to her. I can’t believe I have to deal with this. At least , she thought, in this family it’ll blow over in a few days and go back to normal . Normal. She could have laughed.18
She walked out into the living room hoping she would be alone. Even after not having seen her family in months, the presence of these three people was smothering. Each required unique handling, each had different expectations of Nav, and when around each other they mixed dangerously, like a ticking time bomb. 19
Nav saw her mother sitting at the end of their six-seating table, her reading glasses on her nose, newspaper scattered in loose pages in front of her. Nav walked broadly into the room and noisily opened the refrigerator, implicitly announcing her presence to her mother. She was all too used to milling awkwardly around her relatives, avoiding any and all contact, like self-occupied bees in a hive. Maybe I should just wait it out. She’ll have to speak to me eventually . No, they had avoided confrontation for far too long. Maybe she could change the quality of their daily mandatory exchanges. 20
“How long has this milk been out?” Nav inquired in a seamlessly balanced monotone, shaking the carton of milk in front of her. 21
Her mother’s cool snub complicated her intention, yet she carried on, determined to disentangle their situation. 22
“Mum?” 23
Silence.24
“You know you’ve brought this all on yourself. You isolate yourself from everyone around you by being overbearing…Are you going to isolate me too? The only person in this house who can actually bear to talk to you without swearing?”25
Nav’s mother dared to meet her gaze for a second with the pathetic glare of a self-pitying victim. 26
Nav’s patience had run out and her mind flew back to the hundreds of instances like this one, where her mother, the most emotionally distant woman on the planet, had driven her affection-hungry children insane with her shallow and selfish and sentimentally barren disposition. 27
“HELLO? WHY DON’T YOU SAY SOMETHING? WHY DON’T YOU EVER SAY ANYTHING ?”28
“Everyone else knew you were coming yesterday except me. If this had happened in Deepa’s house, imagine what she would have done to her daughter.”29
“You’re mad,” said Nav, in response to her mother’s ludicrous comment. “Why do you have this twisted obsession with what Deepa and her moronic children do? Instead of saying these pathetic things why don’t you work and become as successful as her?” 30
“She would have kicked you out of her house…”31
She’s insane. The woman is insane . And all Nav could do was tolerate it for as long as she could, until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. Who knew when that would be – days, months, years from now. She couldn’t just purge the negativity from her life like she so wanted to. No, that was impossible for her family. They hated each other, yet they refused to muster the strength to remain amicable, yet distant. Nav thought of the relationship between her sister and mother. The two resented each other so deeply, but shamelessly put it aside when they required something from one another. She could not imagine being part of such hypocrisy – going shopping with someone you could not stand to look at? Being married to a person you wish would leave you be so you could live your life the way it was meant to be? 32
They were used to never speaking about what they wanted and expected from each other, but when they did it was awkward yet liberating. It was not that simple, there were people who refused to acknowledge their feelings. So forever they would go through the motions, hello, how are you, goodbye. Never having connected or experiencing a storybook connection, they would die. Blame, guilt, and shame would follow. What was lost so many years ago would never come back – it was gone. This had been their lives. 33
But here she was, in her parents’ home, doing exactly what they did. Eating their food, sleeping under their roof, all the while despising them for their actions. She had wanted to change them, to make them realise their lives and what was left of them. For the two days that followed they had eaten dinner together, watched films on television, laughed and fought. Nothing had changed for twenty years. Would it ever? It was too easy, too comfortable. Were they afraid of what might happen if they were separated from each other? Money was not the only reason. Why had they needed each other to survive for so long? Nav knew now, this was their normalcy – the stability that individuals crave in order to flourish. They were simply used to it. She was weak and she knew their weakness.
Author notes
There are no literary magazines where I live so I'm forced to try my luck at online magazines from the US or UK, which can be quite the challenge haha.
A few editors have replied saying that this story has a "generic" ending & needs to be a little more evocative. Can you guys suggest some changes? Thanks!
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Hi! I'm new so I'd really like your harsh opinions of this story :) Can it be good enough to publish? Thank you!
Comments
1 - 26 of 26
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its very instresting i think that its really great but put just a little more 'bigger' words but your very good better then i if you care too look at mine.I wont change it though you got a good story never change it or it will mess it up just saying but yea your very good at this and that story was like my life when i got home from a long trip your very talented
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Thank you very much for your feedback! I'm glad you could personally relate to the story.
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This is an fine story, and I very much enjoyed reading it. Your prose is polished, your words carefully selected so that everything contributes to your theme. This story suggests various things to me, but the thing that stands out is Nav's inner turmoil. Early in the story she tells her father, "I told you I'd take a cab," and her father finds this offensive. So she is an independent individual, but she is also part of a family, which family the reader soon learns is disfunctional, as many families are. Nav feels inner peace being near the mosque, and yet she is "removed from faith," and in this there is a parallel conflict.
I can't find anything at all wrong with this story. It is about the quiet things that happen between and inside of people, and so I think it most fits in the literary genre. It's certainly good enough to be published, and I suggest that you submit it to an appropriate publication, perhaps a literary magazine. The odds of a magazine buying anything in the literary genre, particularly anything by an unpublished author, are not very good, but it's worth a try, because this is a very good story.
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Thank you very much for your feedback. You seem like a competent writer & critic to know crap when you see it haha.
I've sent out the story to several online magazines. Unfortunately, the place I live has zero to none literary magazines (such is the cultural quotient of the UAE) so I'm forced to try US and UK e-zines.
A few have replied saying my ending was too "generic" and should have ended on a less prosaic note. Would you have any advice to give to me regarding this? Thank you. I'd very much appreciate your critique. -
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The magazine editors probably wouldn't have commented unless they saw something in your writing that they liked, so that is a good sign. I have been writing off and on for forty years and have never had anything published, but for what it's worth:
The story is "generic" only in the sense that it doesn't fit a specific genre, and the ending is "prosaic" only in the sense that it recounts thoughts and feelings rather than physical actions, and there is no big twist or surprise at the end.
You are perhaps, like me, by nature an introspective person, and your stories will reflect your nature. If you try to write any other way you'll find that it is impossible. At any rate, writing stories solely for publication just isn't worth the effort, because magazines pay almost nothing these days.
Certain themes and character types will recur over and again in your stories, and they may develop in your mind over time, if this hasn't happened already. I'll give you an example from my own experience. A couple of years ago my father gave me some cassette tapes that I had recorded more than thirty years ago as letters to him and my mother. I listened to them, and felt like my voice was that of a different person. That prompted me to write some "prosaic" and "generic" true stories about that time in my life. The story you read is one of those, and I have a few others on SW. Many people commented on the lines of "Nothing happens at the end, you describe only an incident, it's dry," and so forth. I kept writing these stories and thinking about those days thirty years ago, all the mistakes I made, and the person I was then developed into a character who is like me in some ways but different in other ways. I started to miss the hotel where I lived in those days, and the people I knew then. I started having a daydream about a woman walking away from me, towards some disastrous fate that I had to warn her about, but I was paralyzed with fear and couldn't get her attention. Then I realized that she was a woman I used to date and then we broke up, and I regretted that but somehow I had forgotten it for thirty years. In a sense, she was dead to me, and I felt guilty about that. I wrote and thought about this for some time before it occured to me that the themes I was dealing with, guilt, death, and fear, could best be expressed by using murder as a metaphor. So I wrote a somewhat gimmicky murder mystery novelette based on all that stuff, and am now expanding it to a novel. If I had said at the beginning, "I am going to write a murder mystery because that's what sells," I couldn't have done it.
I don't know if I am qualified to offer advice, but I give it because you asked.
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Any advice is appreciated! I agree that I am a more introspective writer & should stick to my guns regarding my style. Thanks for taking the time to respond!
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Fantastic!!!!!!!!! Well Done!!!!!! Bravo!!!!!!!! There are no words to explain your story!!!!!!
A great, no amazing story in my opinion, and im sure in others opinions.
I hope you continue writing, because I would read whatever you write and whatever it is about in a hearbeat.
Goodluck(:
~Rosie -
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Thank you very much Rosie. I really appreciate your feedback.
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Well Done!
I loved this story.
you're interpretation of tension and relationships was brought out very well. the atmosphere created by the narrator successfully produced the feeling of animosity and apathy that i believe you were trying to portray. i love the fact that the story wasn't drawn out or lingering however i do feel that a little more of the narrators experience in the house, instead of summarized in the end but that is just my personal opinion.
i do personally believe that much of a short story should be left for the reader to interpret themselves. here you tend to explain everything every character is feeling and even explain what the story is about in the final paragraph. this is not necessarily a bad thing if that was your intention, just in future writing think about ending a story in a moment, and not a statement.
because this story is so clean and so well written most of this critique is just my opinion so take away from it what you will =). i'm not the best about grammar and spelling myself (i have a personal "editor"lol)so i can't really help you there.
i would definitely think about publishing. go for it!
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 3, dialog: 4, characters: 4.
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Thank you very much for your comment. I get what you mean about the ending. I'm afraid this story wasn't planned out at all haha - just one of those stories that flow out of you when you least expect it.
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The familiar “ting!” of having arrived at the sixth floor sounded, and Nav’s mind snapped shut (That could have been brought out better ^.^.)
Other than the elevator thing, it was brought out very well. Errors have already been pointed out, so I won't point them out in here. Harsh opinions? None needed. It was very well done, and you are quite a talented writer besides a few mistakes that everyone makes. Short, and worth the time of reading, reminds me of my family xD... So, I guess I know what Nav is going through. Interesting name by the way. The way it ended, made me think of how maybe you can hate something so much, but then once it is gone, you realize how much you miss it. Like when I'm trying to sleep, there was this aquarium my sis would keep on, a bit like a nightlight, but it made loud bubbly noises. I couldn't stand it, yet somehow always fell asleep. Then one day it broke, and I found that I couldn't sleep at all without that noise because it was tooooo quiet now. So I got no sleep for quite a few weeks until she bought a new one xD.
Sorry it took so long! I was sick with a cold... :I. Came quite random too. Thanks for reviewing Seeking Paradise in a Dream ^.^
~MartialDemon
beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 3, ending: 5, dialog: 4, characters: 4.
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Thank you for commenting
I'm glad the story was relatable to you. Thats really what I was going for.
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I really enjoyed this. The writing flowed very well and the way you portrayed your characters made them both believable and interesting. The mother caught my attention the most and I think the image of her sitting at the table reading newspapers really highlights the emotionally distant personality. It was all very well expressed The setting was different, which I also liked because it made it a whole lot more interesting and added a cultural feel to it. Uhm, there's not much that I would criticise about this - it seems fine to me.
But, there is a lot of Nav's thoughts, broken only by dialogue and even though I didn't mind that if you want to polish it up more then maybe put more into the story besides Nav's thoughts and dialogue. Feelings and memories, maybe? I think memories of her childhood with her falling apart family would be good. And there's the question of where she went... Marsailles sounds french... but then again my geography skills are really bad.
But yeah, apart from those very minor things this was an almost perfect story.
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Thank you very much for your feedback I really appreciate your comments.
Marseilles is in France, and Nav's family lives in Dubai (UAE).
Thanks for wanting a more in-depth Nav. This story has been in my brain for years and I just sat down and wrote it one day. I could have included her memories and deeper thoughts - but thats another story.
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Flavorful
I get a really good sense of your characters here. I especially like the way you've expressed the self-pitying mother. I also feel that you've hit right on the head the awkward, self-conscious feelings that are typical of any teenager.
Love some of your word usage (walking "broadly" into the room as a way of expressing consciously expanding one's personal presence, for instance).
Some of the punctuation and sentence structure makes this a somewhat awkward read at times.
This bit of story evoked more than one emotional response from me. That's always a really big plus for me. Kudos for that!
Keep refining. I believe you have a good start here.
P.S.: I love Nav's name! Never heard it before and have no clue what it might be short for, but it's relation to the word "Navigation" evokes a sort of travelling, exploring (navigating?) sense about this character for me. Subtle.
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Thanks for your positive response!
Nav used to be 'N' but a few readers said she needed a name so here it is. I'm an Indian living in Dubai so I needed a name that culminated my culture and experiences and I absolutely hate generic names haha. Nav is a gypsy name I believe. And you're right in your estimation of it - most of my protagonists are in and out of airports a lot!
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No harsh opinions needed, you write about a country unfamiliar to me which is nice. Not too many Mosques around here in Florida. I like the culture difference in your writing but the familiarity of well, family.
The only thing that I found that detracted from the stroy is that you don't give your character N a full name and it does her an injustice...and it distances the reader who can't really connect to this N person.
Give her a name and allow us to realize her potentioalas a human being.
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Thank you!
Most of my protagonists are nameless - and I don't quite know why. If you as a reader feel that she'd be more relatable with a name I should probably think one up haha.
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Well, I'd say I can't find anything wrong with it, except I would like to know what happens next. The family seems like they're disintegrating and the mother seems insuffrable. But this was written extremely well, I just want to know what happens next. (:
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Thank you
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I love your characterization of this family, throughout yhe story I could clearly sensed the tension between them. I liked the repetition of "Let's just get this over with."
beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 4, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 5.
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Thank you for your time ^_^
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paragraph 17 'my'
paragraph 32 'They' just minor typos might wanna fix.
This was real good, the description of their relationship was pretty in depth and considering the length of this piece it was written very well. I can't think of anything harsh to say...guess only thing I'd say is it's pretty cynical of the mothers behaviour. Think there could be more to her reasons since it's written in 3rd person. Nevertheless awesome
beginning: 5, language: 5, ending: 5, characters: 4.
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Thanks for the positive feedback! & thank you for pointing out my errors. Its so important to proofread!
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The automated sliding doors opened and she breathed in the stifling humidity of a summer night in Dubai.
lol
i've felt that!!
and i am half way, so far i am pretty hooked [=
i have a test in a little bit tho so ill continue it later k [[= -
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Thank you for your time! & good luck on your test!
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