Oh! What’s a girl like her to do?

Still awaiting a breakthrough?

All the seconds, minutes, hours,

Days, nights, years, that Life devours

As the smooth becomes creased

And the softness is decreased

Light makes way for obscurity

Turning her into a dummy

The flowers will be withering

And their sweet scent will be fading

Like broken china, are the bones

Croaked voice through untuned trombones

The silk on the crown turns to straw

The follower of Nature’s law

The New will become the Ancient

The laughter the next stringent

‘Oh dear dear Maiden! Mind thy youth!

Beware of any great Untruth!’

These omens, everywhere, echo

To the sad eyes of the Scarecrow

Who, perched alone, drops a tear

Cries that no-one will ever hear

Like her, waiting for his shadow

While condemned, is her radiant glow.

Huddled there, eyes wishful, I wait

Ever since been dreading that date

That should not be sealing my fate

Should a day define a whole life?

Oh, of apprehensions so rife

That’s in my back, like a big knife

Never been gifted a red rose

But nothing should be so morose

Going through the mind’s memos

A few questions though, and a thought

Should the impossible be fought?

Thus, no need to be so distraught

Yes, the petals live for a day

Just like all that is black goes grey

Till we reach the final Gateway

The true essence will never die

As infinite as the sky

Sparkling like the firefly

The petals are plucked one by one

Sent through the winds, to that Someone

Knowing that the hearts have been won

Now it is clear, I need It not

Not wishing for what One cannot

Leading otherwise to a knot

Let It stay, rooted in the earth

Its thorns, over Love, have no worth

Never will there be any dearth

There, I can finally let go

Watching It swaying, to and fro

We fly, freed, with the sparrow.

Started when it was hot

And I was feeling unsought

Like two passing ships lately

Leading lives separately

In our abode, same thing

TV, phone, laptop, nothing

Fixed was my gaze hither

Turned were your eyes yonder

Two souls, one long corridor,

Thoughts focused on the front-door

It then came without warning

Pressing us in its trapping

No light, windy and humid

Challenging that was rigid

Candles, batteries and biscuits

Shielding from random visits

With us, together, alone

While the landscape was blown

Lashing rains, merciless winds

Nature gives, Nature rescinds

Helpless, sharing a nightcap

As we feel it both unsnap

Eye-contact, timid, furtive

Two, becoming one captive

Our bosoms fluttering

As frenzied is the heaving

Exposed, battered branches groan

While the tired fierce winds moan

That was the night, the last chance

Lovers revived in a glance

T’was quiet, warm, steamy

Content, It left peacefully.

Just now, as I close my eyes
I can hear the softest sighs

Echoes of past encounters
Full of passionate embers

Infusing the warmth of love
Taking us to heights above

Which have left the hearts scarred
And me, an unlikely bard

Sweetheart, just whisk me along
To where you and I belong

In our own little world
With emotions unfurled

As across the floor, we waltz
In this sight, Cupid exalts

Firing his golden arrows,
And boons upon us bestows

We sway, body-to-body
Till our eyes get drowsy

And in each other’s embrace
Our feelings we showcase

Gently, I trace our names
With my fingertips, in flames

Imprinting the sacred bond
Between us, now and beyond.

1.  People taking their own photos in all possible poses….snapshots screaming ‘Look at me!’

There’s one thing about people taking your photos, but something else about your being an obsessed you, snapping away, day and night, especially in front of the mirrors!

Makes it seem as though you’re trying too hard!

Pathetic, I tell you!

2.  Stupid little gits adding 4000 friends, despite not having a single clue about who these people could be.

 Then, posting all sorts of photos and inviting a deluge of comments, in order to inflate their already bursting egos!

 Some of them are no-lookers, who in absolutely tacky poses, have no idea how utterly of a jackass they are!

Still, some desperate people will go and like these photos.  More desperate cases will leave comments! For example, ‘You’re hot!’ Bla Bla Bla

Sorry to say but in most cases, you’re not! You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear! Ha!

3.  Yes, this one makes my blood boil.  I mean, really! Unless you’re royalty or assured of your physical beauty, why do you insist on calling yourselves Princess Whatever, Angel Whoever, Cute Whichever, Miaw, Moo etc etc?

Don’t you have your real names? The bitter irony’s that those who call themselves Sweet This and Princess That are far from being the cream of the cream.  Go figure out!

4.  Oh yes, these spoilt little brats who keep reminding us how loaded they are.  Been flying here and there, was at X, then Y, then Z…….dining here, buying this, buying that….always, with a photo as proof to remind us that they have got hold of that Birkin Bag!

 Get lost!

 5.  Now, are you not bloody fed with the aliens who keep getting in and out on relationships at the speed of lightning?  My my! Even Flash Gordon would be left dazed!

One day, these gits are in a relationship with X.
The next day, it’s G.
Then, Whoever the hell it is.

Desperados who can’t remain single for long.  Tuff Tuff!!!

 More annoying, are the barely-hatched teenagers who can’t wait to get on the dating scene and end up making a big mess of themselves on Facebook.  Can’t help but chuckle at their stupidity and naivety! Casanovas??? Hehe!

6.  Next case: The lovers or married couples.

When your lover’s cooked up a nice little surprise for you, do you need to come to announce it on Facebook? After all, it’s between the two of you, right? So, why don’t you thank him/her personally instead of gloating on Facebook.  Awwww, so ridiculous that it deserves a mighty slap!

Don’t try to show off because it doesn’t work at all! Keep your little lovey dovey stuff between your sheets, not plaster it all on a public forum!

7.  Status Thieves!

Oh yes, happened to me! One guy stole my status word-for-word and copied that on numerous peeps’ walls.  No acknowledgement, nothing.  Pure theft! Plagiarism.

Be original, don’t just become a copy-cat!

8.  People who keep LOL-lling at every opportunity, in every post.  Not every situation requires a LOL.  So, watch your LOL.  It’s not funny! Mr/Mrs/Miss LOLs!

9.  People who keep praising non-stop.  Awwww, how cute! Awwww, can’t wait to see them!  Awwww, miss them! 

Giving the impression that they’re so nice, so good, so awwwww! Grrrrr, stop sugar-coating.  Don’t be a hypocrite! Hate that to infinity.  Trying to appear like Mr/Mrs/Miss Good!

10.  Girls or guys who keep adding the male/female friends on their friends’ friend-lists! Yes, I know that the hormones are in over-work mode but it’s hardly a valid reason for guys to keep adding all the girls and the girls to be adding all the guys.  Self-esteem issues??? Shame on those people who accept these idiots’ friend requests! You don’t know them? Bin them! Don’t become a mere statistic!

…………….

Thank God the Delete Button exists! When I’m fed up, that’s my best friend. 

Two men were walking along a busy street.  They were two homeless souls, surviving on people’s generosity, sleeping by the moonlight, scavenging the bins for whatever could erase the ugly croaking of hunger.

It was a particularly cold wintry day, with mist enveloping the city.  Wrapped in their coats and scarves, the citizens were in a hurry to get on with it, impersonal glances all around, lost in their thoughts.

Along the street, was an overturned bin, whose rubbish had spilled out on the pavement.  Such was the hurry of the people that they all stepped over the rubbish mound, annoyance masking their face, muttering about that inconvenience in their routine.

Soon, the two homeless men also came across the overturned bin.

As did the others before him, the first man stepped over the rubbish and continued his way.

The second one, however, hesitated for a moment.

Then, slowly, he bent and started picking up the rubbish to fill the bin.

The stench went through his nose, people were still rushing past but methodically, he carried on.  One man even bumped against him and scampered past, without as much of a ‘sorry.’

There was one last carrier bag left on the pavement.

As he was moving the bag, he saw something rather bizarre.  Underneath, was a dirty old rolled-up newspaper sheet, which seemed to be wrapping something.

He looked around.  People were still wheezing past.  Nobody was bothered with him.

Gingerly, he picked up the rolled-up newspaper sheet, amazed at its weight.

Maybe there was a packet of biscuits or a loaf of bread.

Slowly, with his grubby fingers, he started unwrapping the newspaper sheet.

After a few seconds, he nearly did a double-take.

There, wrapped in the dirty newspaper sheet, were ten thick wads of thousand rupee notes.

He blinked and stared, not knowing what to do, frozen on the spot.

He looked left, then right.

A forgotten sight he was to all.

Breathing in heavily, he wrapped the money carefully, stuffed it into his shabby coat pocket and tucked the last rubbish bag into the bin.

***

Does Luck as such exist? Is our destiny not in our own hands?

Do more, think less.  This is THE path to Luck.

The jazz music in the background, the clinking of wine glasses and the soft hum of conversations flipped over her head.

The waiters, dressed impeccably in their smart black and white uniforms, bustled around, smiling, serving, rushing.

She cleared her throat and smoothed out the folds of her dress.  She re-adjusted her necklace and had another tiny sip of that red wine.  She suddenly felt acutely paranoid, imagining people’s sorry glances and conversations about her.

She glanced at her watch, fearing that she had overstayed.  How long had she been there? Two hours?

She toyed about with her wine glass and found herself ordering a salad.  The waiter nodded at her gravely, having no doubt witnessed that scenario a thousand times in his career.

She self-consciously played with her right dangling earring and critically examined her outfit.  She felt exposed and rare.  Was she too over-dressed?

Clutching her mobile phone, she peered anxiously at the screen.  No, no missed calls.  Not even a text message yet.

The waiter brought her salad.  She looked at it, sickened.  She had another sip of wine.  Breathing in heavily, she dialed his number.  Again, the same annoying voice greeted her: This is the voicemail of……

A lump rose in her throat.  She thought about the pair of heels she had especially bought for that occasion. She had spent two hours in town, hunting for that perfect pair of shoes, which would match her dress blissfully.  She thought about the equally matching jewellery set she had bought as she fingered the beads of her necklace again.  She thought about his sensual voice on the phone the previous evening: I would ABSOLUTELY love to see you in a dress…

She had spent a sleepless night, anticipation exciting every cell in her body, as she had visualised the perfect evening unfolding with the perfect man.  She had woken up earlier than usual, willing time to move on, dressing with more care than she would normally have bothered with.  At some point, she was even fed up with time which seemed to have stuck still.  After so long, she was finally getting to be with him and that left her in a feverish state of eagerness throughout the day.

It was with relief that she watched the sun finally setting.

She looked at her watch again.  Yes, she had been there for more than two hours.  Two hours and eleven minutes, to be precise.

Where in the world was he? And why was he not picking up?

She dialed his number yet again, and was faced with the same whining voice.  Then, she received a text message.

She felt the colour rush back into her system.  Smiling at last and fingers shaking, heart beating wildly, she went to her inbox: Sorry.  Stuck in a meeting.

There it was, no apologies as such.  Just a formal note, no more, no less.  She felt as though she had been dealt a blow.  The restaurant suddenly seemed to be submerged in water.  Her head started spinning.  She realized that her own tears were veiling her field of vision.

Confusingly, she ordered the bill and left more tips than usual, in an attempt to drown her humiliation.

She hated her dress, her heels, her jewelley set, all the efforts in getting together a glamorous appearance. How stupid, how gullible she had been!

She hailed a cab and on the lonely way back, she reflected about her own insignificance, disappointment and bitterness churning into her stomach all along.

Two friends were playing in the parched fields in their village.  Soon, they started feeling hungry.

What were they to do? The village was going through the worst drought in its history, there was practically no food and people were dying of starvation on a daily basis.

Suddenly, they stumbled across a dry, wrinkled manioc root.  It might mean nothing to the rest of the world but to those boys, it meant food, a way of filling up their starving stomachs.

The elder and stronger of them picked up the root and said, “Let’s share.”

The other nodded, a drained, skeletal figure he was.  At the most, he would last for another couple of weeks unless the situation improved.

So, the elder one placed the root between his hands and breaking it into two, he gave one half to his friend, who hungrily started munching it, feeling the warmth of food providing temporary consolation to his weakening being.

He was so engrossed in his appreciation of the root that he did not notice that his friend’s hands were in fact empty and that he was pretending to munch and swallow.

After a few minutes, the elder one put his hand on the other’s shoulder and said, “That was good, wasn’t it?”

Smiling, they walked away.

A boy and a girl loved each other.

Sadly, the boy had to go abroad for his studies and he left his sweetheart behind, while pledging his unconditional love to her and promising her that he would come back to her.

However, the boy was soon totally engulfed by his new lifestyle.  After completing his studies, he got a good job abroad itself, met a rich and attractive young woman and they quickly got married and started their little family.

The girl he had left behind was forgotten, banished to the world of distant memories,  a matter of the past.

One day, the boy, who had now turned into a fine young man, had to return to his home country to sort out some inheritance issues.

While walking to the attorney’s office, he came across a young woman who was sitting in the park.  She seemed strikingly familiar and intrigued, he approached her.

She was rather shabbily dressed.  Her face might once have been beautiful, her thick mane of shiny hair was flowing in the wind but her eyes were closed. A slight smile flicked over her lips when the young man approached.

She shook her little money-box but her eyes still remain closed.

The young man coughed and asked, “Excuse me. Why are your eyes closed?”

“They’ve been given to light up someone’s life,” she said in barely a whisper.

“Light someone’s life? Tell me more,” asked the young man.

“My eyes are of no use to me.  I’m living, knowing that they are keeping someone else’s life alive,” she whispered.

Puzzled, the young man pressed her, “I don’t understand.”

The young woman smiled wryly and said, “There’s nothing to understand.  I’ve been living everyday for my love.  The source of my life is my love.  My life’s meaning is my love.  Therefore, when I found out that he needed support, I was willing to risk everything for his sake.”

“How?” he insisted.

“I learnt that in order to complete his studies, he needed a substantial amount of money.  Otherwise all his dreams would have been dashed.  You understand? I could never let that happen.  Above all, his dreams had to be realized.  So, I sold my eyes on the black market to raise money for him, to help him achieve his dreams,” she answered.

“Wow! Don’t you regret your choice though? I mean, where’s the guy now? After all, you’ve sacrificed so much for him and look where you are now,” he remarked.

Sighing, she said, “You really don’t get it, do you? My love’s pure.  I live through every pore of his body.  His happiness is mine.  I gladly gave up my eyes to light the way of happiness in his life.  What more could I want? He’s happy, I’m sure and I’m happy that I’ve been able to achieve that.  My eyes are closed, but they are shining with love, that I could fulfill my love’s desires.  That’s my life’s blessing. Love is unconditional…it’s everywhere…it’s waiting to let go…not only for now, but for the years to come, for the future…”

“…….and forever…,” he found himself quietly echoing along.

Stifling a sob, he ran off.

Her money-box was still empty.  Her eyes remain closed.  The smile was still on her lips.

One day, a dog pounced on a doormat and started biting, clawing and kicking it.  After a few seconds of this slow torture, the doormat asked the dog to stop.

“Why should I?” retorted the dog haughtily.  “You’re nothing but a doormat! Your job’s to shut up and bear with it, that’s all!”

The doormat smiled faintly and said, “Well, I suppose you’re not a doormat, are you?”

The dog wagged his tail even harder and snapped, “Of course not! Don’t you have eyes? Wanna see?”

“Sure,” replied the doormat.  “If you really want to prove that you’re not a doormat, then listen to me very carefully.  Just do whatever you want, when you feel like.  Take out all your hidden desires.  Let them fly free.  Ignore your human masters.  Be free! Be confident! Can you do this for a day?”

“Pff! A day! I could even do it for a lifetime!” snorted the dog.

And so, the dog gave way to all his selfish, hidden instincts.  He refused to greet his human masters, roll in front of them on the floor or lick their shoes.

He started jumping everywhere, all over the house, upsetting the furniture, leaving muddied paw-prints on the floor.

He refused to come when his masters called him.

And then, slowly, the changes happened.

The dog noticed that his bowl was empty.  His stomach started growling.

“Fine.  I’ll just go out and hunt,” he thought.

However, having been brought up as a spoilt animal, he had no idea what or how to hunt.  He saw a bird and started to run after it, but it flew away merrily.  He saw a rat but the latter scampered to safety before the dog could even react.

In the evening, the dog was weak, tired, hungry and sore. He longed for his treats and hot meals and cuddles.

When he saw his masters, he rolled in front of them and let out a soft whine.

“Bad dog! If you want to be forgiven, you’ll have to do more than that!” said his masters firmly.

The dog then went to lick his masters’ feet and rub his nose against their trousers.

“Ok, go and lie quietly on that doormat and don’t you dare move until you’re asked to do so!” ordered the masters.

So, the dog went to lie on the doormat who whispered to him, “So, who’s the doormat now?”

Moral of this story: Don’t underestimate others and take them for granted.  At the end of the day, we are all doormats to someone.  A king may consider his subjects as his doormats, but he is also in turn a prisoner of their whims.

Steer away from arrogance and have some compassion for others.