Fait accompli - Part I

My hands were shaking again... I had to find a place to sit. The searing pain in my chest shot well beyond my ribs and blinded me to everything else.

‘It’s happening again,’ I thought, as I stumbled chaotically and collapsed into my seat. The one-foot long journey had seemed like miles. As I lay in a dead faint my cell-phone began to vibrate. Schen was calling.

‘I can’t talk to him like this!’ I panicked as the phone kept on shuffling closer and closer to the edge of my table. Finally, after the world stopped spinning, all was still.

I felt too weak to move but there was work to be done and I couldn’t have anyone finding out about the attack, especially Schen. I turned softly and looked around the room and through the tinted glass that separated me from the rest of them.

‘Good, no one was around.’

Very gingerly, I tried moving my feet. When I saw that I could move them, I carefully hoisted myself up, using the table as a support.

‘So far, so good!’

It took tremendous willpower to keep myself up, but I didn’t have a choice. If the others found out what had happened just now, I’d certainly be packed off home. Probably forever.

‘No, I have to finish this.’

It seemed like hours, but I managed to go back to the shelf I’d been examining, get all the documents I needed and resume work.

The rest of the evening passed rather tamely. I took a cab home, not wanting to risk driving. Thankfully, it was Schen’s evening with the car. I was back just in time to shower, warm dinner and take a short nap to recuperate before he returned. By then, at least I was looking less like a corpse.

“Hey! How was your day?” I asked Schen, greeting him with a warm smile as his tired face managed to muster one upon seeing me.

“Oh, you know. It’s been a hard couple of weeks. But it’ll pass,” he answered, kissing me.

“Well, I’m sure dinner will take your mind off it for a while!” I replied as I took his hand and led him to the dining table.

“It’s your favourite,” I smiled as I handed him a plateful of pasta soaked in creamy cheese.

‘It’s a good thing he’s so tired, otherwise he’d ask about the call,’ I thought.

“So how come you didn’t answer my call earlier?” he asked in between mouthfuls.

“Oh. Oh! You’d called? Sorry, I got so caught up with work that I forgot all about my phone!” I recovered quickly.

He shook his head, tapped my nose with his finger and smiled.

“You’ll never change.”

‘Phew,’ thought I, ‘At least he didn’t ask further.’

“I’d called to ask if you wanted to go out for drinks later tonight. You know, Zeo and Ren are in town! It’s been ages...”

“Yes, yes it has! Oh, I wish I’d seen your call! How’re their kids doing? What did you tell them?”

“Calm down, calm down!” he laughed, “I hadn’t made any plans with them. I heard they were in town and wanted to talk it over with you first.”

“Ah,” I said sheepishly, “I should really stop getting worked up so easily.”

“Yes you should! It’s bad for your heart. By the way, have you, uh, has it –?”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question and I felt absolutely wretched as I said, “Oh no! It’s been peachy! I haven’t felt better in months!”

He gave me a curious look but then didn’t pursue the matter further.

Later that night as Schen was fast asleep, I kept going over what had happened. It was the second time in two months and I knew that it couldn’t be ignored any further.

‘But what am I to do? When it's only a matter of time...’

We were still so young! It pained me terribly to think of what he’d go through if I –

‘No! I can’t think that way’ I scolded myself.

But that didn’t stop the tears from slipping silently through the eyelids determined to keep them reigned in.

~ * ~

So, what say? Should I continue with this? Lemme know!

Why I am a Vegetarian...

An ordinary day on the streets
Went by as an ordinary day would
It began with a morning sun
And closed with evening, as it should,
The cars honked without humour
At the stubborn red light,
Their headlights flashing so furiously
You wouldn't know it was night!

And while the traffic-man napped
As the commuters flocked in,
I waited patiently by the signal
And witnessed a cardinal sin...
The broiler by the road
Had intentions rather foul
Of re-enacting the Revolution
With some unsuspecting fowl!

These feathered 'aristocrats'
Caged and bound by their feet
Struggled fruitlessly against the Fates
That would have them served as Sunday meat,
Meanwhile, the butcher's guillotine
Gleamed with giddy guileless glee
Awaiting one head after another
Of chickens too frightened to flee.

It was a most unceremonious end
To a quiet clucking life,
As their heads plopped into a bucket
With every slice of the knife!
An adrenaline-induced squawk
With panicked flapping of wings,
Being what was last heard or seen of them
As they wrapped up their innings.

But the most disturbing of all
Was what possessed them in death,
Their beheaded bodies twitching terribly
While I watched with bated breath,
As they were skinned with skill
To reveal the viscera and flesh,
Without the slightest of chances
Of starting over afresh...

Although my stomach rebelled strongly,
Flipping and turning in protest,
My eyes remained fixed
To this hypnotic blood-fest...
It was quite the relief, thus
When the signal changed,
And I drove past this carnage
To adopt a diet less deranged!

Stray Strokes and Clicks

A very close friend of mine recently made me play what is called "The Cube Game". I had to imagine a desert, a cube, flowers and a storm, all within a setting related to me (I think :P). Apparently there's some kind of a psychological interpretation involved regarding how I imagine these things. What I saw seemed like a good idea for a sketch. This is what I came up with:

Cubed

I do plan on colouring it, but it's taking a painstaking amount of time on Photoshop and I lack patience so I posted the ink version anyway. :P (I have a scanner now, yay!)

Oh and this beautiful creature (and it's appretite) won me a prize at a college event today:

A Trophic Encounter

I seem to always be winning things in college thanks to insects. :P

Anyhow, I feel like being useful. So hopefully, there will be more artistic endeavours in the near future!

Fading Dust

Winter is already receding. The morning greets us flirtatiously with just a hint of a chill. Yet, as the day unravels, the sun roasts us in sweat. There is a particular charm held by winter mornings... when you awaken with utmost reluctance, preferring a warm blanket to anything outside of it, when the water and hygienic habits wake you up even if your alarm clock doesn't, when you feel the season with all of your senses and let it sweep you away!

But alas! The last couple of days have given me reason enough to believe that I am bidding farewell to another winter. It's another year that has gone by — many leaves have fallen to Time and many more are awaiting entrapment.

And so the world completes another cycle, just as it always does. And just as always, people seldom change. Their bare essence remains unmarred although their countenance shows the signs and scars of experience. It makes me wonder, sometimes, if the trouble of feeling time flow through the body is even worth it. But then I remember moments when I was oblivious to Time, instances when Time was my slave instead of the other way around and feel inspired to breathe again! ‘Inspiration’ — what a curious word indeed!

Traversing life is more like a drive through the mountains. There are bends, rocky paths, sharp turns, and always, danger of the steepest descent. The view, however, cinches the deal, both at the top and more importantly, on the way...

Memory

And with this rhyme will I but chime
A sweeter memory…
Of painted hills and bright green tills
And sun-struck ivory,
And with this word I do put forth
The pleasures of my sight
’Cross curving courses carved in crumbs
Of ancient earthy might;

And with each drop on every stop
My ink recounts for me,
The clouds that danced, the winds that pranced
On hilltops, proud and free…
And with each treetop crowned in rust
My girlish spirit rose
Past precious peaks perched cheek-by-jowl
Nestled in calm repose;

And as I drove along this grove
The mountains called to me —
A call so wild, my inner child
Burst forth with willing glee!
And with this rush, my soul did gush
And giggle furtively,
Choosing childish charms over chains
Imposed most drearily.

In My Sleep...

As I tried, as I tried, in my sleep
As I cried
I blew a whispered withered word
Into the air, for it to glide
And I sighed, as I died, in my dreams
As I cried
Breathing troubled winter winds
Into my lungs, for them to chide
As they gushed, and they rushed, into my body
And I hushed
Them into silence, for they would
Awaken skin already flushed
And I bled, as I fled, in my sleep
Draped with dread
Along the path traced out by moonlight
That only forest dwellers tread
And I flew, as I blew out my candle
And withdrew
Into shadows shunned by starlight
Burned by a bitter baleful brew
And I sighed, as I died, in my dreams
As I cried
While my soul grazed past all sorrow
And was freed from need at last!