Kiarra Robbins
Professor Schultz
ENG 270
29 July 2021
Final Portfolio
Yemaya’s Tragedy
Yemaya never saw the truck coming. She recalls seeing a dash of red, then nothing. Upon coming to, she finds herself in a hospital bed, an uncomfortable tube shoved down her throat. A visiting nurse explained that the doctors had to amputate her leg. She was beyond devastated. What would she do now? Left with nothing to do, her mind lazily wandered back to twenty years ago, in their tiny apartment in Ukraine, Eastern Europe. Her mother was singing her a lullaby. Oh, poor dear mother, she thought. Her heart thumped in her chest so hard that her ears rang.
Yemaya had been somewhat of a child protégé. From an early age, she had developed a knack for ballet. At her dear mother’s guidance and encouragement, she had perfected the art to bits. By the age of 15, she was an effortless, graceful and fluid young ballerina. Her swan-like movements dazzled audiences at local entertainment shows around the town. She never had any dreams of taking on the world. As it so happens, word of her talents spread far and wide. Soon enough, an agent from a lucrative talent agency that was renowned for its discovery of young stars booked a ticket to a show she was performing in. She had fallen under their radar and in the brightest of ways. As per usual, her performance was wild. Without wasting any time, the agency tracked down her mother and offered her a sweet deal so that Yemaya could travel Westward and make all the money that her talent was worth. To Yemaya’s astonishment, her mother instantly tore up the deal. Yemaya was bewildered. It was the best deal of her life; she and her mother had never seen so much money. She was devastated. Later, at the urging of her friends, she took what was left of her savings and traveled to the nearest town to find the agency and secure herself a deal. She had kept the agent’s business card for this exact scenario. She landed herself a sweet deal that involved ridiculous amounts of money and all-expenses-paid relocation to the heart of the West, New York City.
Unsurprisingly, her career boomed over there. The Western world was still mesmerized by ballet. She got many performance gigs and danced her heart out on the stage becoming a breakout star, and the audience loved her to bits. She was even having press tours and got chauffeured around. Soon, her little life with her mother in Eastern Europe receded into the far reaches of her mind. It seemed small and insignificant now, she thought. This was her destiny, taking on the world. “I am afraid they will take you away from me,” her mother had lamented while trying to get a distraught Yemaya to understand why she had not taken the deal. Writhing in a hospital bed now and breathing through tubes, a heavy tear fell as Yemaya realized she had made her mother’s worst nightmare a reality.
On that fateful night that would turn her life around, she had been out drinking with some friends. She had missed two of her mother’s calls. It was when she was checking a text that the truck came out of nowhere and threw her sports car into a ditch. In a surprising turn of events, as she lay writhing in pain, she got unparalleled clarity of mind. She resolved to leave the West since her ballet career was over now anyway. She decided to take all the wealth she had made and go and live out her life with her mother back in Ukraine. Their reunion was tearful but went astonishingly well. Yemaya’s mother said that she understood her daughter’s life decisions and was grateful that they got a lot of time to spend together. A very apologetic Yemaya vowed to make up for all the pain she had caused her mother. Her talent agency kept calling her for gigs, which she turned down. She had automatically expected that she was no longer of use to them due to her missing leg, but it turns out that one of the wonders of capitalism was that they could curate a comeback story for her and still capitalize on it. She declined. She had never felt happier and more courageous than when she put the phone in its cradle after that call.
If my Heart Were a Gallery, What You Would See
My heart begins in a corridor. Long and winding. Protective walls line each side; duct tape and panels placed over shattered glass. On one end, large steel doors are bolted shut. Beautifully decorated, meant to be admired, but instead placed under a safe lock and key. It’s dimly lit, and seems cold to most, but these halls were once lit ablaze with light and warmth. What remains is the remnants of a broken heart.
But through the shattered glass, light shines like spotlights on memories of those I love. A small child performing ballet. Paintings of the perfect four-person family. A sculpture of two best friends in an embrace. My life plays like a movie and music blares from speakers above. It is vibrant and beautiful, despite being too often shaded by darkness.
The memories that aren’t so beautiful linger in the shadows. Lowering the temperature and blocking out the light. Hardened statues stand with missing limbs or shattered skulls in rooms with doors that always remain tightly closed. Rooms with no windows and no glass. Rooms meant to be forgotten.
But for every forgotten room, sits another with wide open windows and doors. Rooms so bright that light spills into the corridor. Rooms with beautiful statues, painted with bright colors, and carefully crafted with love.
There is a balance to it all. Yin and yang. Light and darkness. Love and pain. Paintings of rich color and joyful smiles sit directly across the corridor from dreary artworks painted only in black and white. For too long, the scales were tipped towards darkness. When the glass shattered, dust settled and covered the color. The most beautiful artworks were draped over and closed from viewing. Doors began to close as more and more statues hardened their features and lost their limbs. Balance seemed to disappear, unable to be rediscovered.
But nothing drowns out darkness like light. And everyday I work to bring back the balance. Removing the panels and replacing the broken glass. Repainting canvases with color. I remove drapes and sweep the dust and try to find my way back to the good. And everyday, a new door opens.
Sometimes the doors reveal new statues all together. New people and friends that bring me back to the light. Sometimes they open and I find repaired statues, a relationship worth mending. The walls fill with murals as I partake on new experiences and rooms are flooded by the music of songs we share. Everyday a new addition. A new work of art.
But the new additions aren’t always as beautiful as I would like. Sometimes they are dark, full of sorrow and self doubt. Sometimes they are blinding, smeared by anger and sabotage. I work to make them beautiful anyways. Hands buried in clay, resculpting and reshaping and reprogramming. A new perspective. I carry paint brushes and crayons and markers. I cover what brings back darkness. I repair the shattered glass, and let in the light.
Life Beyond the Horizon
Raj has lived a pastoralist lifestyle for most of his life but feels unsatisfied due to the continuous fascinating dreams and news he hears of the life beyond their local Bakarwals communities. Now aged 24, he has spent most of his childhood and adolescence creating a rapport with his sheep without significant human connection, except for his family members and Rudra, the sheep shearer. Raj has lost family connection, having left home more than four months ago to seek better pasture for his sheep, with whom he has developed a human-like relationship. He constructs temporary sheds to protect them from rainfall and cold at night. Their relationship is so strong that Raj feels capable of predicting their needs before they fathom. He occasionally reads them stories and talks to them, questioning whether they can survive without him.
Today Raj visited Rudra and cannot shake off the image of her daughter that caught him with awe. He could not wait for the evening to narrate his encounter to his sheep, who dreaded the shearing process and could not notice the delight, tension, and fright in their shepherd’s awe-stricken expression. The girl could have probably met many other shepherds, and Raj had little chance of appealing to her due to his stature, he thought. The lad knew little about grooming, affairs of the heart, or entertaining stories due to the lifelong companion with the sheep. Could the girl be interested in the stories he narrated to the sheep? In addition to the desire to explore the world beyond, Raj had found another reason to change his lifestyle – winning over Rudra’s daughter.
The dreams of the world beyond become more vivid, and the yearning to have a companion grew stronger, but the connection Raj had developed with his flock could not suddenly end. He looked at the sheep, watching them flap their ears in their groups, making him wonder about the secret language they communicated. In truth, Raj’s lifestyle had lost its taste, and he yearned for a more fulfilling life – with Rudra’s daughter, whom he lacked the courage to ask her name. He resolved to change his way of life despite not knowing the best method to undertake the mission. Unexpectedly, he met an older man who was deeply interested in his tired sheep. The man offered Raj half his flock’s worth if he was interested in trading. Raj blatantly refused the deal. However, on continued negotiation, the stranger discovered his weariness with the sheep and inquired about his deep thoughts. Raj narrated his ordeal, particularly the hope to experience the lifestyle in the urban areas. The man encouraged him to pursue his dreams by explaining his regret for not following his teenage dreams. Consequently, Rag decided to trade and seek adventure for life beyond. He would become a merchant, expand his business, and come back to marry Rudra’s daughter after acquiring riches and learning fascinating stories to make her happy.
The decision was not simple since Raj had to part with his lifelong companions. He noticed their despair, but he was determined not to lament his failures of youth at old age. Raj recalled the story of Hernán Cortés, the Spanish commander, who burned their ships, forcing the soldiers to march forth to win the battle or die but not retreat. He resolved to do the same and change his life for a better experience.
CORONAVIRUS
Welcome to the United States
The worst disease ever you Coronavirus
One of the things you should know Corona
Here in America we don’t die of flu
Do not be surprised
If you fail miserable on your mission
To the public and the entire world
Please hide in your homes
Corona has come to destroy and kill lives
Distributing bad vibes throughout the world
For the first time in our history
Since Influenza
A disease has been born
Wuhan it started and grew
Now the world is sick
With symptoms such as fever
Making human sick and weak
Professional health worker’s help humans need to seek
Before it’s too late
The world come together quick
To find a cure we must
Common symptoms it portrays
Victims experiencing cold
Accompanied with headaches and fever
Following up, the coughs starts to appear
Corona now getting rid of seem tough
Corona, who are you, identify yourself
Respiratory organs fail as I was told
Lifestyles must change
Now everyone requires prevention
Masks we wear
But muscle pain can also come
Me and You
It our duty to build immunity
Maintaining hygiene has never been this serious
Wash our hand me and you
The hope, fight and destroy the virus
Cough and Sneeze using handkerchiefs
Some steps we must take
To fight corona
Avoid crowded place
The fight we must continue
Avoid becoming thousands of this cases
Corona we must fight
Visit a health institution
Upon identifying the symptoms
It won’t be easy the fight
Others must be made aware
For the people shall always overcome
The ultimate test, you Corona
How effective will the human race work in unison?
Coordinated we must be
To tackle the name Covid-19
Deadly it is, strong it is
Unforgiving it is
Myths and misconception are roaming
Protect yourselves you humans
“Yes we can” Said President Barack Obama
For preparedness we are
You caught us unaware
The last time this will happen
Lessons you have taught us
But in unison we shall arise
Defeat you will face
Just a matter of time
Alert you will be
Coming for you we are
For the human race will not spare you for the sadness you have brought
Fear we won’t tolerate; respect we will give for altering the lifestyles
Indoors we will not remain
We will roam the streets again with our protective gears
Discipline we will remain
As we continue with our normal lives
Parties we will attend again
Stadiums we will go again
For we have identified ways to minimize your threat.
Bye
Everyone seemed to shrink in the cold shower.
Wails, screams, cries, and faces of grief,
After the drop of the loved flower.
The stint was like a highlight, a brief.
The don downed dawn was a dream shatter.
A flower that dropped with a thunderous thunder.
Even the bold bowed down to the scatter.
The drop was not a wonderful wonder!
Yet it was a permanent transformation,
Hitting the hearts differently,
And setting a new version of emotion.
Their mother had left them permanently.
The happiness? They could not buy,
They accepted, and said bye.
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