Sunday 5 June 2016

Conversations with the Old Lady

One day a boy spoke to the Old Lady
Look!! There’s a pretty little flower!
No, no. Leave it alone, little boy
Leave that pretty little flower be!


Then the boy pointed to the Old Lady
Look!! There’s a cute little puppy!
No, no. Leave it alone, my dear boy
Leave that puppy with its mother be
Thereafter he showed the Old Lady
Look!! The big mango on the big ol’tree!!
Come on down, oh little boy
Leave it where it’s supposed to be!!


Frustrated the boy asked the Old Lady
Why can’t I have the things I see?
You can have all you ever want, the Old Lady said
when you learnt to let go and leave things be!!

Tuesday 31 May 2016

Rhetorical Questions

How are we to make it work
when sometimes we’re worlds apart?
How is it that I get to you
when you have yet to surrender your heart?


How is it then that we may not fail
when we’re so fearful of starting
How are we then to make it work
when the longing for each other
so strong could hurt?

How is it then I stay my hands
my arms, my legs, my very heart
when you intrusively occupied my thoughts
How would I then
be complete again?

For all the How’s and the When’s
For all the Here’s and Then’s
I have no read answer; only the pain remains
A multitude of hopes,
and you my bane.
 

Friday 11 September 2015

Dead Silence


There was no saying how disappointed I was; I had been looking forward to the date for a long time. Our last date was…3 weeks 5 days 6 hours ago…and counting. As I was locking my door behind me, car keys in my hand, it was almost ritualistic that my phone gave a tremble in my pockets; she sent message saying she could not make it for the date, again.

Again!

Something really did felt out-of-place, but I could not put my fingers to it. A fortnight ago was a faulty car engine, last week was a sick niece she had to babysit, and then it was an emergency with her pet cat.

Gosh that stupid Persian!

Once again, I was left standing alone at crossroads, in possession 2 movie tickets to the latest Fast & Furious, a complimentary dining voucher for two at the Dome, and a buy-one-free-one coupon at our favourite coffee parlour.

“Why waste them?” I supposed and gleefully I went.

If finding a parking at the shopping mall was hard, it was even harder getting through the crowd at the cinema lobby. I cancelled my plans for a chilled Coke and popcorn at the sight of a long and endless queue. Walking straight to the counter, I lined up to have my tickets checked. The light indicator above beckoned me to go in already, with the movie starting in about 10 minutes.

The line was slow and some customers were anxious to get inside quickly, and soon a scuffle broke out. It was then I saw a familiar silhouette, roughly a few feet before me.

It can’t be her.

Before I knew it, a couple more stewards came and formed a line between us and the entrance to the halls, stopping me in my tracks. I stood there stunned. My fingers found the keypads of my phone and pushed the quick dial.

“Hey…I’m just calling to check up on you.”

“Yeah…I’m at the vet’s. Can’t talk now. I’ll call you again later?”

A nudge from the back brought me back to my senses, beckoning me to pass through the now cleared counter.

“Why bother?” I assured myself. “Fast 7 comes first!”

*******

            Shoulders against shoulders, I made my way out of the cinema, as the crowd squeezed through a bottleneck of a shutter door. Feeling the grumbling of my tummy, I made my way to the Dome. The waiter threw me a surprised look as I turned up alone, but I pretended not to have seen his rather impolite stare.

            “Just what I ordered, please,” I said to him just as he was just about to speak. Promptly picking up the menu, he left. I sighed while throwing a glance across the hall, which was pretty deserted bar a few occupied tables. A barely audible gasp escaped my breath, as I saw a familiar silhouette right at the far corner of the room, chatting happily to the man sitting across the table. I scampered for my phone in the pocket.

            “How’s your cat?” My heart sank as the silhouette answered the phone right at the same time.

            “Erm…I’m still at the vet…still…waiting for our turn.” Her hesitation was evident in her trembling voice.

            “You know I could drop by…and check on you both,” I made sure to sound reassuring over the phone.

            “Erm…no you really shouldn’t…erm…my..my mom is with me,” she stuttered, before continuing, “You really don’t have to.”

            I could have sworn I would have heard her just fine without the phone; she was so agitated that her company was concerned for her, enough to rest his hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.

            I said no more and hung up. In a moment of madness I switched on the camera and snapped a photo of them, an embodiment of my shame and failure as a boyfriend. The food arrived as I slumped against the chair. From afar I saw her excusing herself to the toilet, no doubt to recompose herself, and reapply some of those foundation powder and lipstick. Taking out a 50 dollar bill and pining it underneath an ashtray, I left.

            I could no longer recall how I actually ended up back home safe and sound, having to drive 10 miles in that state of mind. But it took her a week to finally come looking for me, since I no longer called or texted her after that.

            “Hey,” she knocked was my door. Apparently my mother had let her in. “I haven’t heard from you in ages so I figured…” She sat herself comfortably on my bed while I remained seated in my chair, staring into a blank worksheet before me.

            “Writer’s block?” Her voice tinged with a dose of concern, which translated into a painful pang in my heart. The more concerned she was for me, the more it hurt. Ironically, I would have killed anyone or anything to have her treat me like that.

            “You know, I’m really sorry,” her tone changed. “I know I’ve missed a lot of dates but now,” she put her arms around my neck, “…but now I feel like I want to have one.” Her cheerful and sweet smile reflected on the computer screen.

            “Where have you been?” I broke my silence.  A bewildered look hung on her face. “Last Monday. When we’re supposed to watch Fast 7 together.”

            “Ah? Didn’t I tell you my dog was sick?” Defensively she crossed her arms. “I had to bring her to the vet.”

            I swiped my phone and opened the photo I took the other day and tossed it to her. Gasping for air, no words came out of her mouth thereafter.

            “I was there. The cinema too. And no, I didn’t follow you. I meant to bring you there.”

            She had a palm covering her mouth, trying hard not to break into tears. Her other hand was grabbing onto my phone as hard as she could, before finally tossing it on my bed. Soon there was nothing left but dead silence in the air, an invisible wall erected between us, a connecting bridge collapsed. At that moment I knew it was over.

            Grabbing onto my phone, I walked out the room, only to pause at the door, intending to leave her a final message. I could hear her sobbing.

            “It was the Persian,” I said. “You told me you brought your Persian cat to the vet.”

            10 minutes later I returned to the room only to find a void in there; whatever we once were, stripped to the core, was just lies. Sometimes I do wonder, if I could just pretend that everything is fine, that everything is beautiful when the ugly part is swept under the closet, and that every that is a new day worth living for.

            But I know, deep down, I just could not bring myself to forgive her for what she had done.

 

 

 

Wednesday 27 May 2015

Bittersweet


“Yeah, this is kinda weird,” you remarked, still staring at my ceiling.

“Yes it is,” I responded with equal rhetoric. “I hope this changes nothing,” I continued.

“Of course not,” you gave a rather weak smile which I didn’t think you noticed yourself. Repositioning my head on your broad shoulders, I shifted deeper towards your neck, resting a quick kiss on your cheeks.

“Please don’t,” I whispered into your ear. “Don’t make promises that you know you might not keep.”

You said nothing in reply, knowing well what I meant in context. To your credit, you did forced yourself a smile, although it did nothing in your attempt to pacify the growing restlesss inside me.

“I had fun yesterday,” you broke your silence.

“It’s always about the sex, eh?” Grimly, I posted that question against your stonily expression. Seeing you caught out like that really did gave me an ego boost, but I probably should cut you some slack.

“Silly you,” I reached out and gave you a kiss on your forehead, before uncovering my naked legs that was hidden under the thick cozy duvet. Skilfully, I wrapped myself with the bathrobe lying on the floor. I blushed as soon as I saw you staring at me. I was not going down without a fight.

“Petrified?” I said with a high pitched voice, like those posh ladies in London, “By my beauty?”

“Hardly,” you responded with a chuckle. Clearing your throat, you switched to a scouser accent, “I was more impressed by the perfectly shaped booty of yours!”

What followed after was a pillow fight; grabbing the closest pillow to me I bang it as hard as I could against you. Without retaliating, your parried away all my attacks. Frustrated, I held on to the pillow tightly before diving onto the bed, trying to pin you down under all those thick cottons. Throughout the mini skirmish your laughter resonated all over the room.

Finally you decided to retaliate. With a huge heave you overturned the tables; I was now the one pinned under your big arms, unable to move. The laughter ceased along the fight. I was staring right at you but I no longer blushed. You cracked a smile and kissed me full in the lips. I thought you tasted like honey lemon with a tinge of tobacco.

Bittersweet.

Monday 11 May 2015

你这也太潇洒了吧?

你这也太潇洒了吧?
“Mojito.”
说分就分,说断就断。他对着电话已有三天,手机的每个震动,信号通知都过于期待和渴望。 查看来信者就会垂头丧气,闷闷不乐。说起来,他也并非完全无过;一向来自尊心极强的他却不甘下风向你祈求。他说不是面子问题,而这是一种衡量他在你心目中的分量到底有多么重。
说着他又把酒杯里偷的烈酒灌了,用力把杯子塌在柜台上,豪爽地命令调酒师再呈上鸡尾酒。
“Mojitoagain.”
你可曾经问他,那么多鸡尾酒当中,最喜欢Mojito? 这酒,他并不常喝。你去年夏天外地出差,一出就出了四天,他就连接和了四晚;上个月他回乡探亲,每晚这个时候不失去了酒吧,就在家端了啤酒自个儿喝着。这回你们小闹一番,他就溜了这自己喝着。
你说他这是在喝闷酒吗?奇怪的是每当他端着酒杯,就是呆呆地晃着酒杯,细看着薄荷叶在酒里飘着飘着。过了片刻,叶片也逐渐沉在杯底,他就一口把酒全灌了。
“Mojito.”
调酒师脸上挂着怪异的表情,似乎担心他会把自己灌醉,又或者好奇这怪客何以什么都不喝,只喝这带点辛辣,味道稍微平淡的Mojito鸡尾酒。调酒师最后还是把他要的饮料给呈上。刚伸手他顿时呆了,凝望着身前半尺以外的酒杯,不时脸上就流下了两道溪水。他闭了双眼,咬着嘴唇,摆上了一幅回到过去的表情。人在这里,心灵却该是回到了以往跟你相处的光阴。
你这也太潇洒了吧?