Incertitude is one tenacious whisperer, and lately the air around my ears has been the most susurrous. I do have been meaning to write though, honestly. Eventually, I did and even that wasn’t the end of the procrastination-perfectionist thread, I still sneaked in a couple of weeks to let the letters brew. Thankfully I’m here … Continue reading H0 and H1
My Faceless Date
“You’re late” He muttered, his voice heavy, his annoyance on its third trimester. That’s just as well. I didn’t want to come anyway. I was the one to initiate this meeting though, so I apologized. There was no going back. Not even the hisses from my tenacious insecurities would dissuade me today. I hate confrontation. … Continue reading My Faceless Date
The Pen
The clouds moved gradually, almost grudgingly in clatters and crowd. Each stuck religiously to his own lane, moving in silent unison like six pm traffic. A rocking chair a few miles down gravity’s smirk mimicked the clouds’ every movement and slight of hand. They seemed an old music band, moving to the same beat, reluctantly … Continue reading The Pen
EMPATHY MAY
At one point she said,” Maybe you feel too much because you remember too much. Why hold onto all that?” And barely holding myself together I said,” Where....where do I put it all down?”
Outro
Friend, the body has the flimsiest hard driveThe heart all too fickleGiving and taking from the wrong peopleThe brain unique as that one cell sickle.I wonder how they work together,Such maddening chaosThe mind in crazy scenario synthesisThe antagonistic rest ridding the excessWe always blame the heart for craving excitementFor clouding our better judgementBut, the mind … Continue reading Outro
Deciduous & Clown
I haven’t held my pen for far too long I fear I’ve lost my steady hand. No harm, no foul, I don’t intend to be poetic anyway. I wanted to throw in a myriad of metaphors and irony that would throw you so far off guard you wouldn’t be able to see my point. But not today. That said, if at any point you think I am writing about you, I promise you, I am.
Final Letter
Hi. In light of mental health day that was on 10/10, I thought you might need to read this. It's hard to imagine it if you've never experienced it , or at least with such severity. I believe empathy is the first step to understanding anything that can't be voiced, so here's Tonde with a story to give you a peep into a possible scenario. May it appeal to you to be kinder and more sensitive to your loved one's unspoken struggle.
Gossip Girl
Then this boy that night, mid-conversation, several bluetooth scopes out of topic, had simply blurted those simple words. I remember staring at him for a while, searching for the lie, secretly hoping not to find it. I looked down at the street again, that’s when for the first time I saw what he saw. A dirty crowded street full of strangers in a hurry. A mother pushing a screaming baby on a stroller, hastily motioning for the tram driver to wait for her. The tram left seconds before she reached it anyway. A beggar sitting on a corner, playing an imaginary instrument, hoping it will amuse well-wishers. They passed by without a second glance anyway.
Collisions
"The dead receive more flowers than the living because guilt is stronger than gratitude." Do you agree?
Something in the water
The studio apartment looked like something out of a clearance sale. It had an eerie presence about it that reminded one of early nineties horror movies. It was too small for a living room yet too large for a walk-in closet, just the right size of claustrophobic. The air was heavy with the stench of weed and urine that had overstayed its welcome. Clothes were strewn about the room making a trail leading to a wide open, almost empty closet. A small travel bag, passport and several letters were the only things in some kind of pattern across the bed. The entire apartment looked like what one would expect the inside of a vacuum cleaner to look like - dirty, crowded, misfit. In a corner was a lump as equally messy as everything in the room. That’s where she sat, dramatically as if she had recently been posing for Vogue. Her hair was still damp, the result of which was a shudder every now and then. She stared at everything and nothing as she relived the events of the previous night. She had done this a hundred times so it wasn’t supposed to faze her. However, this time perhaps she wanted to stay......
Twenty Fever 