Prose: A Girl Like Her

"Honestly, she took up a lot of space in my mind that day."

#creativewriting #strangers #friends #childhood

A Girl Like Her:

Street Children: Shahnoor

By Niha Hasan

There is a story of a little girl carved on this piece of wood.

One winter, I met a girl in town. She roamed the streets all day, and as soon as evening came, she ran into a tent house. The girl was like a fairy. She was talking so nicely, it seemed like I could just keep listening to her all day over and over again. Her words were so clear, so pure. Just like an audiobook. Maybe, she cannot study because she is financially indigent. Or maybe, due to the complexity of her family environment, her parents did not feel the need for her to study. Whatever it is, I didn’t know.

I was fascinated by the introduction that she gave me without education or studying. The girl's name was Shahnoor. What a beautiful name! What a beautiful way to talk. And the color of her eyes was brown. What a magical smile! Honestly, she took up a lot of space in my mind that day.

After meeting her, I was thinking about her all the time. She screwed me over by a thought of why humans are like chalk and cheese compared to fairies and wonder creatures. I thought I'd ask her to be my little friend, if I ever see her again. I would love to give her a picture book. But she was never to be seen again.

The girl left as soon as the sun set in the winter morning. I am the person who always feels blah, like chalk and cheese. But that day, she left me with a message. The message filled me up with emotions that felt like a shock wave.

From that feeling, I painted a little Shahnoor on a piece of wood. A memory of Shahnoor made by me. If she had grown up in a proper environment, the girl would have stayed on one of these platforms. She wouldn’t be lost to the wind. But since I could no longer find her, I keep her memory in the wood.

To me, the little girl is a story. So much that the girl's face on this piece of wood will stay with me in every storybook I read, much like her imagination that day.

𝘐’𝘮 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰

𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘳!

“𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦

𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘈𝘯𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.”

I later made it a thread- patterned woodmark so that Shahnoor could easily mark my pages in storybooks I read, filling up the pages with her presence.