I want to lay you down on a bed of roses,
see the thorns pierce your skin smoothly,
enjoy the sight of growing red speckles,
beautiful contrast against the ivory canvas.
I want to see your wide-eyed wonder,
surprised at the beauty of this stanza.
I want to hear your mind sing the exuberant song of fear,
to the rythmic drip, as your heart falter.
I want to lay you down on a bed of roses.
see the thorns pierce your skin smoothly,
enjoy the sight of growing red speckles,
beautiful contrast against the ivory canvas.
I want to see your wide-eyed wonder,
surprised at the beauty of this stanza.
I want to hear your mind sing the exuberant song of fear,
to the rythmic drip, as your heart falter.
I want to lay you down on a bed of roses.
I opened the bottle of water and passed it to her, as I listened to her divulging animatedly her dreams and desires.
She laughed goofily as she shared her joy of the moment when she received a card from the girl she adopted. Her voice trailed off as she expressed regret for forgetting to send her a birthday card.
I lit a cigarette as I listened to her in amusement. Her energy was refreshing. Her frankness, infectious. I found myself revealing to her my innermost thoughts and dreams that were long buried by cynicism.
Soon our conversation was interrupted by the splattering of raindrops on the concrete ground. We stood at the edge of the void deck, staring silently into the rain, each withdrawing into our own thoughts.
I breathed in deeply, mustering strength from the scent of the rain to push the rising sense of regret away...
------
She removed the scrunchie from her hair and ran her fingers through her long lustrous black hair. Then she stepped out of the shelter, into the rain. She raised her face to the night sky, with arms outstretched. I could see that it was an act of cleansing of the soul, as the raindrops flowed down her cheeks. She turned to me and beckoned me to join her, with that irresistible grin of hers.
I flicked the cigarette away and took her hand. I stepped out into the rain and joined her in the private ritual. We stood hand in hand, heads raised to the skies. Thoughts of her impending marriage was not welcomed tonight, as we let the rain cleanse us of our guilt and regrets.
This night, the rest of the world did not matter. We held each other tight, as we danced to the rhythm of the rain, cocooned in our own little world. This night, nothing else mattered.
She laughed goofily as she shared her joy of the moment when she received a card from the girl she adopted. Her voice trailed off as she expressed regret for forgetting to send her a birthday card.
I lit a cigarette as I listened to her in amusement. Her energy was refreshing. Her frankness, infectious. I found myself revealing to her my innermost thoughts and dreams that were long buried by cynicism.
Soon our conversation was interrupted by the splattering of raindrops on the concrete ground. We stood at the edge of the void deck, staring silently into the rain, each withdrawing into our own thoughts.
I breathed in deeply, mustering strength from the scent of the rain to push the rising sense of regret away...
------
She removed the scrunchie from her hair and ran her fingers through her long lustrous black hair. Then she stepped out of the shelter, into the rain. She raised her face to the night sky, with arms outstretched. I could see that it was an act of cleansing of the soul, as the raindrops flowed down her cheeks. She turned to me and beckoned me to join her, with that irresistible grin of hers.
I flicked the cigarette away and took her hand. I stepped out into the rain and joined her in the private ritual. We stood hand in hand, heads raised to the skies. Thoughts of her impending marriage was not welcomed tonight, as we let the rain cleanse us of our guilt and regrets.
This night, the rest of the world did not matter. We held each other tight, as we danced to the rhythm of the rain, cocooned in our own little world. This night, nothing else mattered.
When you were in grief,
you sobbed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
When you were ill,
you sniffed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
Aftter you finished your meal,
you burped,
you reached for the packet of tissue again...
Have you ever given the crumpled paper napkin a thought?
Have you ever voiced a prayer of appreciation?
Have you ever shed a tear for the stained piece of tissue
lying forgotten in the corner?
you sobbed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
When you were ill,
you sniffed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
Aftter you finished your meal,
you burped,
you reached for the packet of tissue again...
Have you ever given the crumpled paper napkin a thought?
Have you ever voiced a prayer of appreciation?
Have you ever shed a tear for the stained piece of tissue
lying forgotten in the corner?
I saw him kneeling next to the woman, in a nondescript singlet and bermudas. Other than the long disheveled hair, he could pass off as any of those clones hanging out in the neighbourhood. It was too dark for me to see pass his long fringe to notice his facial features. He was in that position ,whimpering at the woman, who appeared to be sleeping in a fetal position.
My curiosity was drawn by a strange sucking sound coming from their direction. As I moved closer, I observed him raising and lowering his arm repetitively in a mechanical fashion. He was stabbing a blood soaked pencil into the woman's side. Every time he pulled the pencil out of a newly created puncture, her flesh refused to let go, creating the weird sound, just as a toddler resisting his pacifier being removed. Her side was a mangled mess, her eyes wide open, lips parted in a silent scream. Her soul had fled in terror.
He was rocking on his knees, whimpering, and telling her softly, "Now you know how much I love you?"
He seemed to finally notice my presence. He stopped his stabbing actions and raised his head slowing towards me.
The faint moonlight lit his face, as he grinned at me.
It was my face staring at me... grinning maniacally...
I screamed...
My curiosity was drawn by a strange sucking sound coming from their direction. As I moved closer, I observed him raising and lowering his arm repetitively in a mechanical fashion. He was stabbing a blood soaked pencil into the woman's side. Every time he pulled the pencil out of a newly created puncture, her flesh refused to let go, creating the weird sound, just as a toddler resisting his pacifier being removed. Her side was a mangled mess, her eyes wide open, lips parted in a silent scream. Her soul had fled in terror.
He was rocking on his knees, whimpering, and telling her softly, "Now you know how much I love you?"
He seemed to finally notice my presence. He stopped his stabbing actions and raised his head slowing towards me.
The faint moonlight lit his face, as he grinned at me.
It was my face staring at me... grinning maniacally...
I screamed...
It was a solemn affair. Men and women, dressed in sombre shades, whispered in hushed tones. The common topic was, of course, the deceased. The questions hanging in the air ranged from the mysterious way he died, to the huge debts that he accumulated
I was sitting alone, away from the crowd, reminiscing the good times I spent with him. How, as kids, we won marbles from the neighbourhood gang. How we defended another kid from the neighbourhood bully (and got caned by our parents later for what we though was a righteous act).
A fresh, feminine and strangely familiar scent wafted passed me. I shook my head to clear the lingering traces of old memories as I peered about looking for the source.
It was Her.
She looked as beautiful as before, walking with that signature gait, which always reminded me of the transitional stage of a young cat gambolling around to the graceful catwalk of an adult feline.
She saw me.
I wondered what her reaction would me. Anger? embarrassment? Or would she just plainly ignore me?
I got my answers in the next split second. She broke into that unconstrained grin of her. She walked over and sat next to me, resting her hand on mine reassuringly. There were so many questions i wanted to ask her. How has she been? What happened since the last we met? And most importantly, what was her relation to the deceased. Somehow, instincts told me not to ask, commanded me to maintain silence and wait....
Read More »
I was sitting alone, away from the crowd, reminiscing the good times I spent with him. How, as kids, we won marbles from the neighbourhood gang. How we defended another kid from the neighbourhood bully (and got caned by our parents later for what we though was a righteous act).
A fresh, feminine and strangely familiar scent wafted passed me. I shook my head to clear the lingering traces of old memories as I peered about looking for the source.
It was Her.
She looked as beautiful as before, walking with that signature gait, which always reminded me of the transitional stage of a young cat gambolling around to the graceful catwalk of an adult feline.
She saw me.
I wondered what her reaction would me. Anger? embarrassment? Or would she just plainly ignore me?
I got my answers in the next split second. She broke into that unconstrained grin of her. She walked over and sat next to me, resting her hand on mine reassuringly. There were so many questions i wanted to ask her. How has she been? What happened since the last we met? And most importantly, what was her relation to the deceased. Somehow, instincts told me not to ask, commanded me to maintain silence and wait....
Read More »
She opened the door and stepped into her quiet apartment. The three cats welcomed her at the door, silent shadows twirling themselves around her ankles, threatening to trip her. She tossed her bag on the sofa and proceeded to the kitchen to prepare dinner for her three young masters.
------
After her shower, she took the heated briyani dinner pack from the microwave and plonked herself in front of the TV. As she bit into the chicken, she promised herself for the last time, not to buy such tasteless microwave packs again. She put the pack down and started observing the three cats cleaning themselves after their dinner.
Read More »
------
After her shower, she took the heated briyani dinner pack from the microwave and plonked herself in front of the TV. As she bit into the chicken, she promised herself for the last time, not to buy such tasteless microwave packs again. She put the pack down and started observing the three cats cleaning themselves after their dinner.
Read More »
He sat there, at the dining table, staring intently at the bowl. He pulled the blanket tightly around himself as another round of shivers wracked through him.
A strange face peered at him suspiciously from the water. It was a gaunt face, with sunken cheeks and a pair of dark haunted eyes. The lean hungry face was framed by a shock of oily hair plastered to the scalp with week-old stubbles lining his jawline.
He was about to ask the stranger who he was, when a tiny sane voice seeped through the murky waters of his mind. The muffled voice revealed the identity of the strange man.
The clouds cleared a little and he remembered he was not scrying. That was not a scrying bowl.
Bits of his memories started to piece together. He remembered then. He was waiting.
Soon. The Time was coming.
He whispered a prayer of strength to the gods. He needed all the help he could get to keep the sickness at bay just for a little while more. He needed the strength to stay conscious. He had to.
Yes. He remembered then. He had to complete the Pact.
A stirring in the water.
Read More »
A strange face peered at him suspiciously from the water. It was a gaunt face, with sunken cheeks and a pair of dark haunted eyes. The lean hungry face was framed by a shock of oily hair plastered to the scalp with week-old stubbles lining his jawline.
He was about to ask the stranger who he was, when a tiny sane voice seeped through the murky waters of his mind. The muffled voice revealed the identity of the strange man.
The clouds cleared a little and he remembered he was not scrying. That was not a scrying bowl.
Bits of his memories started to piece together. He remembered then. He was waiting.
Soon. The Time was coming.
He whispered a prayer of strength to the gods. He needed all the help he could get to keep the sickness at bay just for a little while more. He needed the strength to stay conscious. He had to.
Yes. He remembered then. He had to complete the Pact.
A stirring in the water.
Read More »
It was dusk.
I lit a cigarette and stared out of the window at the last light, with a deep sense of apprehension. My vision marred by the thick smoke that I exhaled. Julie London was singing Fly Me To The Moon in the background. The faint light from the new moon was getting brighter as the sky darkened. The dark shadows of the craters on the moon were like scars on a battle wearied face. I wondered what stories each of these scars carry.
My thoughts were shattered by a commotion coming from the street below. Eight men in black suits were chasing a woman. The form of the small lithe body sprinting ahead of the men looked familiar. I could almost catch the scent of her thick lustrous hair, that I knew so well. It was her.
I snubbed the cigarette hastily in the ashtray and dashed out of the apartment, into the streets. It was easy to see which was the direction they went by looking the direction the passerbys in the street were gawking at. I trailed them down the street, through the front door of a Chinese restaurant and out the back in to the dark alley, led by the angry shouts of her pursuers. I sprinted towards the exit of the alley.
And found myself in front of a white chapel. It was quiet...The noise from the commotion suddenly gone.
I walked into the chapel warily, my footsteps intruding the thick gel of silence. The stained glass of the windows were in stark contrast to the bleached lifeless white of the walls. My attention was drawn to the white marble opened coffin sitting on the altar. There was nothing special about the design. It was just a rectangular coffin made of white marble. There was none of the usual elaborated design. Yet I could feel it beckoning me. Maybe it was just my curiosity.
I approached the altar cautiously. Every step i took reverberated within the chapel, threatening to overwhelming silent sanctity of the holy ground.
It was her... Lying within the marble coffin, her head resting one a small white pillow. She was dressed in a white flowy gown, her hands resting lightly on her bosom. She seemed to be asleep. A peaceful look on her face...So familiar... Memories of her sleeping on my lap on the sofa surfaced in the sea of my turbulent thoughts.
I smiled and kneeled to plant a light kiss on her cheek, like I always did when she slept.
Read More »
I lit a cigarette and stared out of the window at the last light, with a deep sense of apprehension. My vision marred by the thick smoke that I exhaled. Julie London was singing Fly Me To The Moon in the background. The faint light from the new moon was getting brighter as the sky darkened. The dark shadows of the craters on the moon were like scars on a battle wearied face. I wondered what stories each of these scars carry.
My thoughts were shattered by a commotion coming from the street below. Eight men in black suits were chasing a woman. The form of the small lithe body sprinting ahead of the men looked familiar. I could almost catch the scent of her thick lustrous hair, that I knew so well. It was her.
I snubbed the cigarette hastily in the ashtray and dashed out of the apartment, into the streets. It was easy to see which was the direction they went by looking the direction the passerbys in the street were gawking at. I trailed them down the street, through the front door of a Chinese restaurant and out the back in to the dark alley, led by the angry shouts of her pursuers. I sprinted towards the exit of the alley.
And found myself in front of a white chapel. It was quiet...The noise from the commotion suddenly gone.
I walked into the chapel warily, my footsteps intruding the thick gel of silence. The stained glass of the windows were in stark contrast to the bleached lifeless white of the walls. My attention was drawn to the white marble opened coffin sitting on the altar. There was nothing special about the design. It was just a rectangular coffin made of white marble. There was none of the usual elaborated design. Yet I could feel it beckoning me. Maybe it was just my curiosity.
I approached the altar cautiously. Every step i took reverberated within the chapel, threatening to overwhelming silent sanctity of the holy ground.
It was her... Lying within the marble coffin, her head resting one a small white pillow. She was dressed in a white flowy gown, her hands resting lightly on her bosom. She seemed to be asleep. A peaceful look on her face...So familiar... Memories of her sleeping on my lap on the sofa surfaced in the sea of my turbulent thoughts.
I smiled and kneeled to plant a light kiss on her cheek, like I always did when she slept.
Read More »
How are you little one?
I am fine. Thank you for your concern kind sir.
Doesn't it hurt?
No sir and it's been broken for so long that I nearly forgot how it was like to have them whole.
Don't you miss soaring through the skies and free as can be?
Not really sir. I can still be free hopping ON the ground.
But don't you miss having a bird's eye view of the world little one?
Read More »
I am fine. Thank you for your concern kind sir.
Doesn't it hurt?
No sir and it's been broken for so long that I nearly forgot how it was like to have them whole.
Don't you miss soaring through the skies and free as can be?
Not really sir. I can still be free hopping ON the ground.
But don't you miss having a bird's eye view of the world little one?
Read More »
So I am back.
History purged.
A new beginning.
Again.
History purged.
A new beginning.
Again.