We stay on top of the mountain and we miss the seashore We breathe in the beach and we long for the freshness of the misty mountain We question the lack of rain when drought hit us but we dream of the dry season once the downpour troubles us At home we dream of being outside but once out there we cannot wait to be home Loneliness makes us seek festivities, but while being surrounded by noise we long for serenity Marriage hits the idea in our brain when we are single. Then we think of how good it is to become parents. Children make us sigh of insufficient fund…alas the grass is always greener on the other side. Happiness will not be ours if we only think of what we don’t own but never of what we do have Be that person who are grateful of what we have.

How dare you came and shared some love that I longed for between the stars and the earth of heavenly life, How could you let me adore the stately being with eyes so demure, lashes so diffident, shapely visage smothering my breath. How dare you came and showered some life to a withered existence, rocketing hope with hopeful vigor barricading sense, adjusting feelings to fading lust. How could you let me touch the brim of your soul, rummaging through to the deepest space and remedy a heart in vain. How dare you came and created confusion that I seized blindly picturing glimmer to shine me all the way. How could you not see the trace of affection, burning, leaving encumbered marks only you could rid. How dare you squeeze this life to comfort with unpromising insinuation, only to bear the hurtful scar. How could you stay away when the path is near, intertwined almost, aloof in desolate cry. February 8, 2015 PPDR

SCENIC SERENADE When dusk sets in, the day may end. The world sees it ends in picturesque pride, stroking the tangerine streaks, blending the sun rays with purplish sky. Lovely that the day fades spreading splendid lights to the night. Like you, your life, beautiful. Like the psychedelic beauty of sunset at dusk. October 25th, 2014 PPDR

For you

There is a sweet corner
of the heart
that is so small it condensed
all the bits and pieces of life,
savoured to an everlasting thread
of the good and the better
It will always be where it is.
Treasured...

I could smell the newly-cut grass of the vast plain by the playground site as I stepped out of the car. The roaring sound of the cutter could still be heard somewhere, loud and drown, all at the same time. The sun was lazily peeping at the edge of the grey-blue cloud, showering rays of dim orange light. Ahh...the scent of green, always has been my favorite. I lifted my weight off the car seat, erected my posture, closed the door, locked and lighted my steps toward a wooden bench. The dark copper wrought-iron handle was intricately designed making me wonder, why such an artful creation for a public place like this. Leave it there, trivial. Looking away, the lake water was winking at me incessantly, displaying the bright orange reflection of the evening sun. I sat down under the shady rowan-like tree, cool and breezy. To think of just the other days, I was dealing with facts of life so much so that I was in amazement. Not for the beauty of it but rather the opposite. 1. Alice - an attractive woman in her late forties. The bookstore was her sanctuary for almost eighteen years now. I frequented her so-called lair until the day when I became more than just another customer to her. We chatted mostly on books as none of us had children of our own—a subject most famous in women’s talk. It surprised me when one day she mentioned rather matter-of- factly, “I married a jerk ten years ago”. I took a moment before I could respond. “Oh, ok,” rather emotionlessly. That’s all I managed to say. Really, it was not what I wanted to say but it was said and I felt bad about it. What if she wanted me to say something more, to ask her why she ever said that or maybe to agree that men were just that, jerks. She made a move to her small working cubicle by the purified-water tank. She motioned towards the coffee-maker there. “You want to join me?” She said, lifting both her eyebrows and a coffee cup. “Sure”, was my immediate reply. I needed one, to clear my sudden confusion. She poured the hot brew into an off-white oversized cup and handed it to me. With a nod, she offered me a seat. I looked around before doing so and she sensed my worries. “It’s okay. June will take care of the store for a while”. I nodded. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uneasy. I feel like we can talk, if you know what I mean.” “Yes, of course.” “It’s always in here you know,” she said, patting her chest. I took a sip-the coffee was good, and after swiping my lips, I asked her, “That thing just now, ermm…the thing you said earlier, you know…” “About my marrying a jerk?” she asked, sensing my reluctance to say so. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, what happened?” the coffee almost spilled out as I waved the cup and lifted my shoulders out of awkwardness. She smiled and joined her cup to its saucer. “We were married because he insisted. He went and asked for my hand from my father! Can you believe that?” “Wow, I mean no!” “Yes, he did. They were stunned actually, my parents.” “Well, who wouldn’t?” “Exactly, but they fell for his so-called honesty”. Her back against the brown leather sofa, she continued, “I did not…you know, sense anything wrong then. He was nice, too nice even, until after a month past the wedding”. I did not attempt to place a remark on that so she continued. “He began scolding and yelling at me for no reason. Everything I did was just wrong. You see, it’s like that song, Superwoman, by I can’t remember whom. “Hmm…hmm…” I nodded and gulping my coffee, “I know the song, and really he did that to you?” I just could not help being surprised. After all, in front of me was this very soft-spoken, nice lady. Just to think that you can yell at her? Gosh, it just did not make any sense. “He sure did. It did not take long for me to realize that I was an ornament for him-simply that. For display purposes. I just have to be with him and in the house to make it seemed better, looked better but nobody give a damn why you are there!”. She appeared angry at this point. It was contagious, I felt anger rushing through to my face too. Then I heard the office door rattling. June appeared there and awkwardly motioned her head to the right and directing it to Alice. Alice nodded and put down her cup, clanking on the saucer. "You'll have to excuse me," she said with shivering lips. Wonder if the air-cond did that to her. I shrugged and okayed then turned to see what was going on outside of the glass panel. There was a man standing near the fiction rack. Fingers trailing the books but didn't seem to find any in particular. Simply an act of nervousness, I presumed. "Alice, I've got to go too. It's getting late". I echoed behind her. She just smile and gave me a light nod. So, I left my empty cup of coffee there and headed the exit. I glanced at the man at the fiction rack but looked away when my eyes met his. Rather peculiar looking guy. As I stepped on the pavement outside the shop, my mind was in a state of unrest, unsettled and continuously wondering what would be the end of Alice's story. 2. "Free to talk?". The message popped up on my phone screen. So I typed, "Yup" and pressed the send button. In an instant my phone rang. "Hi". "Hey, sure this is OK?". Came the caller's voice. "Come over.” Came my sudden invite over to her.

A pause. Contemplating perhaps.

“OK. Be there in 20 minutes.” She hung up abruptly.

In the twenty minutes, surprisingly I didn’t make any effort to clear the mess in my living. The few scattered old newspaper pages that I was browsing through were freely laying on the coffee table-all the Sunday editions, my usual revision after a week passed. I fluffed the sofa cushions though, with pats and slaps then rested them again on the couch. On my way to the kitchen, I adjusted the TV screen to face the centre part of the living room—I twisted it to the right just now, to suit my position on the sofa.

The tap water came out wild and splashy as I turned on the tap. It dashed out making hissing sound instead of the usual silent flow. I bent my head to the left and tried to clear the opening of the tap with my index finger. Hate it when the water splashed all over the sink and wet the area. I liked it dry there. The tip of my finger touched something slimy there. A little help by the thumb dragged out a clump of green slimy algae. The culprit. I turned on the tap again. Problem solved. Smooth flow.

After refilling the electric kettle and pressed on the switch to ‘boil’ mode, I left for the living room again. Channel 701 was on, so I continued watching ‘Supernatural’ season 5 which was half way through. Ahh…Dean.

The knocking on the door disturbed my focus on the alluring Dean, not the scenes. I heaved myself out of the sofa and straight to the door, peeped through the peephole; just to make sure it was Lina. It was she. I turned the doorknob anti-clockwise and as it spread opened, I bowed and waved my left hand outward in circular motion- much to her amusement.

“Stop that”, she urged shyly.

I just laughed and closed the door behind us.

“Sit down. Want something to eat?” I asked while my mind was inventing the kind of food to offer her.

“I don’t think so, not now, later OK?” She adjusted herself on the sofa and started arranging the pages from the Sunday Times and placed them under the coffee table. That was nice of her, now I am glad she came.

As I headed to the kitchen, Lina called out,

“I met a guy a few days ago.”

“And..?” I said, not surprised to hear that.

“And what?” Lina asked me.

“Yeah, you tell me! You said you met a guy and what about it? Who is he? Where did you meet him? Anything, just hit it.” I urged.

“It’s not important, anyway.”

“Helloo…. Don’t tell me you called me suddenly, asked me to come over and told me about meeting a guy and it was not important? Please…Lina. You can do better than that.” I rolled my eyes and she saw that.

“OK, I wanted to tell you and I know you will listen but, aren’t you surprised?” She walked over to me and sat on the bar stool, elbows on the counter top.

“Why would I be? Because you are married? Come on, Lina. You met a guy and what was wrong with that?” I poured the hot water into the two mugs waiting with 3-in-1 regular Nescafe.

"I don't know and I'm scared..." "Of what?" Came my question. She looked at me before bringing her smiling eyes to the corner of the microwave oven by the side of the marble top table. "I like him....a lot." Finally, the confession. "Like?" I repeated her word. "Yeah, like. He makes me feel as if I am a blooming flower...a free wind, bright and light, ermmm...I don't know. It's like.." "He makes you feel happy, is that it? "Exactly!" Then she pulled a sad face as quickly as the cheerful one came by a moment ago, "I hate that feeling..." "Why should you?" "I want to feel that way when I am with Andy, not with this man I hardly know." I took a sip of my now lukewarm drinks and motioned to Lina to take a sip of hers. She obeyed but that was the last one that met her lips.

Abah,
A million words wouldn't bring you back.
I know I have tried.
Neither would a million tears.
I know because I've cried.
All I have are the memories.
I know they cannot lie.
Missing you everyday hurts in every way.
I never will bid you goodbye...

I guess the last time I took a retreat in this four-cornered blog of mine was like ages ago! I didnt need one, I thought-or maybe it slipped my mind that a break from all the routine happenings in my life was vital to recharge my energy to plunge ahead-and encounter more and more happenings thus revisiting and recreating the cycle. I love myself when I could always tolerate others' depressing moments while I am having my own as well-just amazing how God had blessed me with such remarkable ability. There is a facade I carry everywhere shading the gruesome emotional me from public judgment and I did it well and steady-thus far at least. The hollow space in my heart just could not bear any more ignorance but it still is...

Suddenly

I’ve got to write this
To clear the chest-pressing need
Of acceptance
Of ideas on TV
Of parallel views
Of truthful words tendered.

Life graces too soon to convene the ripeness of age
Too soon to even be felt, thus once there
It is almost deeper than it should
Stranger than it looks.
Once there, it is full of debt; of health and wealth
It is gorged with scenes of untold tales of hope and trust and lust.

Ways secured, options hindered
Fretting chances of ease, placating vivacity
We are left with nothing much
Nothing that differs from that of others’ who led past
With desires left unveiled.

on the trail yet again
of somehow somewhere someone will turn and say forget it
hopeless pursuit, you are in vain
it's not futile
that someone somewhere somehow will see and sense it
fruitful quest, flawless trial
following the trail, casting apathy
which someone somehow somewhere will track and trace it
only to gain the notion of strive, awaken
and acceptance
It is so and it is done.

22 years...

Went for a meeting the other day (excuse me for starting this with a lame event- meeting!) and who would guess that my School-sis was there too! Imagine after 22 years...and the best part of it both of us still talked about boys! Haha...just like the old days. Pretty scary as well when we dont seem to age as we are supposed to, u know, being in our late thirties now and still stuck with the memories of when we were seventeen, when the sight of your boyfriend's shadow can give us sleepless nights. Leave that aside, we shared too, the fun we had having teachers like Lim Eng Hua a.k.a DEH, Chow Lai Heng who always wore the same shirt to class; the whole week! and with a safety pin on it, in replacement of a missing button! Though we have been out of each other's sight for over 2 decades, we still share a few things; among others, our line of work and of course we didnt marry our school sweethearts...

It came to me today that I have been doing what I am doing for almost sixteen years now! Yeah, I could say that I like it and I hate it as well. The like part- parting knowledge to others, though I always feel I should do more of it than I do at the moment. The hate part- I hardly have time for myself let alone my other part of the life I'm living! Really, it is worse than anybody could think of. I go to work when I should be enjoying my sleep for another 45 minutes (yes, it counts!). My workload is like, hmmm how shall I say it, oh yes, like the ever running waterfall, and at that pace too. Then the coming home time, my oh my, I am lucky if I can at least watch a CSI (be it Vegas, Miami or NY) to the very end. But at least Supernatural, the latest season is not yet on so, I dont miss Dean that much. And at the end of everything, satisfaction..it's a myth or what?

The Blood of Flowers

A moment ago I flipped and read through the last page of the novel. Breathtaking! Its pull towards my interest seemed stronger and stronger starting from page 1. Even my boys' antics became milder than usual for the two reading-days I spent on it. It's a story( a few stories actually) within a story, a style that reminds me of The Taming of The Shrew. If ever one wants to relish in middle east culture opulence through a woman's eyes-savour this book.

Remembering

Ramadhan and the past

blend, disguise, surprise

Ramadhan snatches and offers

Opposites in the same stance in life.



A mark meant to last.

A Stranger

You will always be a stranger-it won’t change.
Leave it to the moments that painfully drag the sadness,
the sculpted thoughts-one hard enough yet caressing
won’t leave you till the last breath inhaled.

You are a stranger-nothing can change it
nor could it be changed.
In time, you will learn to be one, to feel as one.

I too, am a stranger
in my own life.
True enough.

I'm 38 today!

Yes, and proud of it. Thanks to those few who never fail to send me their priceless wishes. Appreciate it, really. So, what's special for today? Everything. A day's work was done. Health in tip-top condition. Life is good. What's important-am still breathing.

muaz

'twas shiny and awfully bright
the day, yet again
sat throwing a view piercing out through the glass window
halted by the sound of poking raindrops
and the sight of muaz
arranging his steps
almost tiptoeing down the stairs in silence
amidst now the loud rain dashing down the ground
screaming wetness everywhere
there...muaz again in blue azure
gliding smoothly, slowly disappearing
from the corner of the eyes, swerving ever so swiftly
politely beautiful, he.

The Colour

If I am a colour
I am Green
as in new, amazed by going-ons,
Green as in fresh, crisp and crackle,
bouyant by the mist of happenings.
It would be too - Green as is chlorophyll,
mesmerises sources of life.
I am a colour
no more pure blank white.
I am Green
as in new,
you?

The Moon Trail
Glowing down the route I took to survive another empty line of time
The beam shadowed some dark thoughts I brought
along the hollow path; it managed to catch me everytime-radiance,
Another lonely moments walked by to trace the sorrow of yet another memory
of parting and bliss-blending ever so generously to pain the heart, to crush the soul.
The Moon Trail
Luminously placed the course I took to fight another battle I wish to win
The shine engulfed my yearning for love I lost
amongst the unpredictable freedom.

A Visit to a Bicycle Shop

Clad in worn-out tees
so overly worn, they embraced to the bones
while skillfull trembling fingers caressing the chromed sticks
of the charcoal black wheels
amidst the rows of biwheelers they perform rituals of life
ever so engrossed, dutifully twisting and turning
assorted screws and bolts
scattered willingly waiting turns
Theirs is a life pacing patiently
no hurry, wary
lest the world is forcing ours
let them be a line to pace and pause.

I Wish To Walk Naked

Blink your eyes
It's not what you think
Nakedness conquers soulfully
The bare flesh element caressing mind born free
Walk non gratis, minus boundaries
Towards limitless needs-endless devour of love
Unstoppable life almost dies
Pronto
What next who would know