"Do You Want to Build a Snowman" - a Chasing New Dawn short inspired by a writing prompt
For the past couple of months, I've been taking part in a few Twitter writing games. Basically, the host asks questions, either about whatever you're working on or about you as a writer, or the writing process, or some combination of both.
When one of those games asked what the main characters' favorite winter activities were... I already had a notion that Mazumdar sisters liked winter, and they are not amused that people assume they don't because they're Bengali-Americans... And I wound up responding with this.
"Supriya; Say, bon - do you wanna build a snowman? Raveena: Seriously, didi? We're adults. Supriya: It doesn't have to be a slowman. I just thought I owed you, for all the times I've been a total Elsa to you. Raveena: ... Alright, but we're not naming him Olaf." #TheMerryWriter https://t.co/C8yPwym23S
- Strannik (@Strannik_REB45) December 2, 2020
Because one can only fit so much in the character limits, the best I could do was write a tiny slice. But ever since then, this little fragment has been bugging me. And I thought about what it would look like if I had a bigger canvass to work on. And it occurred to me that it could be set a year before the novel, when the sisters were still trying to figure out the whole sisterhood thing as adults and rebuild a bond. I kind of had to overlook, for a moment, that Frozen would probably have to look different in the Chasing New Dawn universe, because the extended metaphor I wound up going with was too good to discard. And I was determined to include the lines from the original tweet somehow.
This came together in bits and pieces, in late evenings and in between assignments, but I more or less finished it up last week, and cleaned it up a bit earlier today. As always, comments and feedback are welcome.
Do You Want to Build a Snowman (a Chasing New Dawn side story)
It was a nice winter evening in Detroit as Supriya and I walked back to my loft after a dinner at Sushma Aunty's. My older sister was saying something about how Harry, Sushma Aunty's 12-year-old son, was so caring and so attentive, and whether it was weird to feel proud of him, while I tried not to feel uneasy.
To think that around this time last year, Supriya ignored most of my texts and only called me when her latest boyfriend dumped her, or when she didn't get a gig, and blew me off when I tried to talk about our mom, or Lily.
So when I ended things with Lily, the last thing I expected, the absolute last, was Supriya flying down here to check on me. Or noticing that I wasn't as okay as I tried to look. She made Bengali comfort food. She helped me get rid of Lily's stuff. She was there. It was kind of nice.
When Supriya went back to Los Angeles, I thought for sure she'd go back to ignoring me, but, almost five months later, she still calls and texts me, just to check on me. On her own free will. She came to my gallery opening, and she wished me Happy Birthday on her Insta with a cute photo Sushma Aunty took when I was six and Supriya was seven. (“You're still way too serious - and seriously talented. Happy Birthday to @MazumdarRaveena, the awesomest of sisters! I love you, chota bon!”)
I wanted to trust it... But I kept thinking about all the times Ma said that she was going to do better. There was always this period where she'd try to help us with homework, drive us to school without complaining and watch movies with us. Sometimes, she'd even talk about the family she left behind in West Bengal. But sooner or later, she'd be back to snapping at us and calling us ungrateful, good-for-nothing bokas who ruined her life. Before long, she'd be back to forgetting to make us dinner, vanishing for days at the time... You'd think, after a while, I'd learn, but I kept falling for it every time.
“Wow!” Supriya's voice jolted me out of that train of thought.
I didn't even notice that we reached a small neighborhood park a few blocks from Sushima Aunty's house. Normally, it wasn't much to look at - a playground, some benches, some trees. But all the snow that fell while we were at Sushma Aunty's hid the uneven grass patches and the wear in the playground equipment. The light from the two lightpoles bathed the park in what was almost a warm glow. And it was so peaceful. No footprints, no slush. Just snow.
“'It is pretty neat,” I said as I pulled out my phone and carefully framed the shot. “I wish I had my gear.”
“And the snow is so fluffy,” Supriya grinned. Then, her eyes lit up with mischief. “Say, chota bon,” she sing-sang, “Do you want to build a snowman?”
I stared at her, not sure whether to laugh or sigh. I settled on:
“Seriously, didi? We're adults.”
“It doesn't have to be a snowman,” Supriya grin faltered, but didn't vanish. “I just figured that I owe you, after all the times I've been a total Elsa to you.”
I flinched and tried to push down the rush of memories, how I'd ask if we could play and she'd yell at me to leave her alone and stop being such a baby, how I would run into the yard and cry until Sushima Aunty found me, or until I was too tired to cry. How, after a while, I just stopped asking. It wasn't worth it.
“Oh yeah,” the words came out before I could stop them. “That would definitely make up for everything.”
Hurt flashed across Supriya's eyes, then sadness.
“Okay, I deserved that,” she lowered her gaze. “I just... I thought it might be fun. You used to love playing in the snow. Of course, you used to be shorter than me, and we're clearly way past that. I'm sorry. It's stupid.”
Supriya's been apologizing a lot lately, the way Ma never did, not even when she was trying to be nice.
“Don't put yourself down,” I said. “It's not stupid. I was just surprised, that's all. Do you really want to build a snowman?”
“You know, I kind of do,” Supriya smiled apologetically. “I keep thinking back to when we were kids, and how much everything sucked, and I kind of realized that playing with you was one of the few things that made me happy, you know?”
Even after all of the surprising things Supriya said to me these past few months, this one caught me off guard. All this time, I thought I was the only one.
“I guess this,” Supriya motioned at the park, “just reminded me of all the times we'd try to make a snowman together. Like, remember that one time around your eighth birthday when Sushma Aunty took us to Belle Isle and we built this huge snowman... I mean, it seemed pretty huge at the time.”
“Enormous,” I felt myself smiling.
“I can't really say I wish we could go back, because so many other things were pretty awful... But maybe we can make some new memories. Maybe the good will eventually balance out the awful,” Supriya looked at me hopefully. “It seriously doesn't have to be a snowman.”
It would be so easy to just go along with it. But then, I thought of the sad Anna in that movie...
“Shouldn't that be my line?” I tried to play it off light and failed. “Anna was the one who kept knocking on the door, wondering what she did wrong. How did that go? We used to be like buddies, and now we're not, I wish you'd tell me why...”
Supriya's eyes welled up, and I immediately regretted it, but before I could apologize, she said.
“Because I was an idiot. I thought that, if I act more like Ma, maybe she'd like me more. Maybe, if I insult you, she wouldn't insult me. I was such a selfish idiot, and I am so, so sorry.”
I didn't expect that. I mean, I kind of guessed the why, but I didn't expect her to say it out loud. And now that she said it...
“You were just a kid,” I said gently. “You didn't know any better.”
“I'm your big sister,” she shook her head. “There is no excuse. None. I should've protected you, but I kept hurting you.”
And I just stood there and stared. This was everything I wanted to hear for so long, and now that I did... Was it wrong to feel happy?
“Didi...” I wanted to reach out to her, but I hesitated.
“I don't know how to make up for it. My therapist says that I should focus on the now, and I'm trying, but honestly, I don't know what I'm even doing half of the time. I just know that I don't want to be the person who keeps hurting her own sister. I refuse. So...I'm going to keep working on that. I promise.”
Supriya looked at me warmly, her eyes glistening, and honestly... I was scared. If didi changes her mind... I don't know if I can handle it.
But I guess that, sometimes, you just have to throw yourself in front of a sword and hope that sisterly love will save you.
“You know, didi,” I smiled, “I bet the neighborhood kids would love a nice snowman in the park.”
Supriya looked at me, blinked away tears and smiled a hesitant smile.
“I bet they would,” she said. “We're going to have to make an awesome Olaf.”
“Definitely,” I said. “But we're not calling him Olaf.”
2020 (c) strannik01