The First Page.

It was like any other day. I woke up at my usual time of 5.45 am and sat down to meditate at 6.00 am. The call of the Muezzin floated in from the mosque’s loud speakers three kilo meters away. With it came the sound of the early birds and the sound of traffic from vehicles of those going to work early shifts. The impatient sound of the horn from a locomotive from the outer yards of the railway station came buffeting in disturbing me. I was unable to focus on my meditation with the same ease with which I usually can.

It was however not a usual day. It was the day that I was  to submit my resignation from a job that was destroying my soul. After almost a quarter of a century, new management has brought about changes that were totally contrary to my value system, brought up as I was, in an old fashioned organisation with old fashioned values of loyalty to employees, customers and other stake holders.

I had tried to convince the powers to be to let me run my department the way I had run it for nearly four years. Very productive ones with great achievements and much satisfaction till the new policy guidelines were announced.

I had battled for over three months with myself about continuing in the position and had consulted only my wife as I was reasonably sure that others would advice against resigning as the employer was a highly reputed multinational company where employment was considered to be prestigious. She was very supportive and assured me that whatever decision had to be taken to enable me to live with my conscience was acceptable to her and that clinched the matter.

I had sought and found three job offers and had left the final choice to the time frame that I will be given to hand over to my successor. I was set to go forth and had even mentally drafted my letter of resignation.

I could not meditate and got up to get cracking on the other activities of my morning routine.

Today’s topic was suggested by Shackman for our 2 on 1 weekly Friday blog posts. The full topic read as “Write the first page of your as yet, unpublished novel.”  As most first novels are said to be, my attempt is autobiographical.  Unlike the topic of the image, mine was the beginning of a new life in a different location and industry.  In retrospect, I was right to have resigned when I did and my life subsequently was very satisfying indeed.

Please go over to Shackman’s blog to see what he has to say about his first page.

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23 Responses to The First Page.

  1. shackman says:

    Every writer help page I have seen says write about what you know so our attempts were both headed that way. I would keep reading if more were available and I am glad we managed to expand our wheelhouses a bit.

  2. Looney says:

    Hmmm. Maybe I should retire from the government UFO business and start teaching high school astrology instead.
    Looney recently posted..Frienemies

  3. tammy j says:

    I was hooked!
    and like Shackman… would definitely have kept reading.
    and that was before I knew (or realized) it was YOU and your own experience.
    now will go and read the Shack’s take on the topic!
    I love the Take Two Fridays you guys do. 🙂
    tammy j recently posted..and the soul of a horse

    • You can always join in to make it Take Three Fridays. Would you like to?

      • shackman says:

        Absolutely! I have enjoyed the new routine and you’d be a welcome addition – add some sunshine, lollipops and rainbows to the party

        note how I snuck in that old music reference – LOL

        • tammy j says:

          HAHAHA. yes. I did notice and now the tune is stuck in my head. thank you.
          almost as bad as ‘she wore an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.’ that will get in your head enough to drive you to tears. or even murder if your talent runs to dark tales.
          insert maniacal chuckle here instead of a LOL.
          or if you prefer… ‘he wore a pink carnation.’
          that got in my head and threatened to never leave too once.
          and though I am honored and seriously flattered that the coolest boy’s club in town thinks I could participate … truth is I have enough trouble even thinking up topics for my own blog! and there’s always that old phrase… that kind of fits me too. you’ve heard it.
          “well. she’s nice but she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer!”
          yup. that would be moi. but thanks guys! SH
          tammy j recently posted..and the soul of a horse

  4. Yes, that is a novel I would read! Well done. 🙂
    Cheerful Monk recently posted..Unfortunately Not Enough

  5. Wisewebwoman says:

    Well done. Very atmospheric.

    XO
    WWW
    Wisewebwoman recently posted..At the Coffee Shop

  6. it’s needs expansion – and “what did we find on the second page…” a man begging you to return to the fold, because the new regime wasn’t working…and so on…

  7. I really liked the opening paragraph – I could almost hear the call to prayer, traffic and birds.

  8. nick says:

    The first page of my novel would be rather too long to reproduce here. The first sentence maybe. Someone else has already used “It was a dark and stormy night”, so I’ll have to think of something else. “I was born in one of the coldest winters of the century, when strict rationing was still in force a year after the end of the second world war.”

    I also liked your first paragraph. I could imagine myself right there.
    nick recently posted..Grateful

    • Ursula says:

      You need an editor, Nick:

      “The Allies and their enemies had bombed the shit out of each other. To little gain. As is my wont, I was born in March – an unusually unwelcoming one. Strict rationing in full swing, my mother wasn’t able to nourish me to full potential. The year was 1946.”

      U
      Ursula recently posted..Poison

    • I hope that you eventually write the novel starting with the stormy night!

    • I was born in one of the coldest winters of the century, when strict rationing was still in force a year after the end of the second world war.

      That certainly grabs my attention, I would definitely continue reading.

      Whenever you mention boarding school I think of C.S. Lewis’s Surprised by Joy, The shape of My Early Life. A grim place for people who like to read and learn. Have you ever read that book? Was your experience much different from his?
      Cheerful Monk recently posted..Finally!

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