Jihan Sharma Leaves Kingsboro
For as long as Jihan could remember, he had always been a lonely guy. Born on February 2, 1990, in North Kingsboro, New York, he was the eldest of two children, the son of Indian immigrant parents, Deepika, a chef, and Salman, a marine engineer. His parents were Gujarati Indian Hindus, though coincidentally they were both born in Cairo, Egypt, having emigrated to New York separately in their teens where they first met. Thus, Jihan was raised in the Hindu faith and speaks some Gujarati and Egyptian Arabic. Leaving his parents' coddling to pursue his passion in writing unexpectedly made a divide between the two parties, a separation that made it near impossible for him and his parents to stay in one house together. There were calls, yes, mostly from his mother, but over time, when they became busy and he fell short of accomplishing his goals, those calls slowly dwindled in rate and quantity.
Jihan could still remember his first writing gig as a staffer of Briarwood Academy’s student publication. While attending the academy, he had received academic acclaim for his articles and short stories. His then English teacher, Ms. Earnshaw even called him “a gifted student” and expressed how he was quick to impress with his “innate ability to communicate a wide variety of characters imaginatively and creatively”. The past few years, however, have not been kind to him. With the exception of less than ten different inclusions in several anthologies, spanning from fiction and poetry to non-fiction and essays, Jihan has failed to get himself published on his own. His manuscripts have been consistently rejected and his submissions have been skipped and continually ignored. A year ago, Jihan was invited to work as an editor for Pen & Paper Press by an old classmate, and he has barely written anything out of love since.
"What difference a year makes." He muttered to himself, a grin on his face, as he closed his place and soon dragged his bags out into the streets. Outside of his writing career, Jihan suffered some setbacks in his relationships. After living with a painter named Valyrie Hsia for three years, with whom he was romantically involved, he came home to her, one night, and that was all he wanted to remember of that night. He had also heard rumors of a former flame, prior to Valyrie, having his kid, and although her "daughter" does bear a striking resemblance to him, he doesn’t know if he should even try to ask. Things did not end well with him and screenwriter Barbara Miyazaki who even left Kingsboro just to get away from him way back then. "And now here I am, following suit, finally leaving Kingsboro..."
Jihan looked around him, above him, everywhere as he stood there with his bags on the side of the street. The first thing that came to his mind was how he would miss West Kingsboro and the many memories he has made during his stay, the friends he's made, the lovers he's had the pleasure of crossing paths with. Despite everything that has happened to him, the last few months really changed his outlook in life. He's found hope in tea, warmth in bread, and camaraderie in a world-famous song. Shaking his head, chuckling to himself, Jihan began to press on. “I’ll miss you, Kingsboro. Goodbye...for now.”
Paths diverge all the time. You just learn to move forward.
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