She watered the plant in the terracotta pot
Like she nurtured all her dreams within
It’s where her life ended distraught every night
And a new barren day would begin
She knew the terracotta was fragile, that it could
Break at the exertion of the slightest pressure
Just like she knew she would listen to her parents’ wishes
And slaughter the hopes that she cherished as her treasure
She touched the terracotta with each loving finger
And felt its smooth surface under her tips
She closed her eyes and savoured the feeling
Letting a soft sigh escape through her full lips
She wished her life was just as smooth
Just as purposeful and devoid of pain
She wished with every pore of her being
She wished for it again and again
Then suddenly, with the dawn of a day
Came the news that she was to be married
She ran to her parents seeking some solace
And begged for the event to be tarried
Refused her freedom, she couldn’t bear the thought
Of her hopes and desires getting bruised and battered
Like a sick animal, her only refuge she sought
Only to find the terracotta shattered.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
The seeping of life...
Bleah...not a very positive way to start off a piece, but i'm not feeling too positive. I'm feeling...bleah. What a way to make a comeback to blogging after...almost a month (too bleah to calculate exact number of days). That's what a cold does to you. Just drinks up all your energy like it's some squash or something.
It begins with a little wriggle in the nose, like a damn waiting to burst but just biding its time. A little burning behind the eyes, that makes you squeeze them shut real tight and water. A little itch in the throat, the kind that makes you want to claw your flesh out and reach the itchy region. Incidentally, have you tried scratching your throat by doing really weird gymnastics with your tongue? It is such a relief, but a temporary one. When the itching gets back at you for trying to get rid of it, you just go berserk. And you behave like a dog with a bone stuck in its throat.
That's cold. The parasite, the scum, the...the...the ha chooo! Sniffle. I'm just sitting in front of my PC at office and typing like a zombie. I'm not listening, I'm not responding, I have loads to do and I don't care. Siiigh...cough cough! See? I can't even breathe easy!
If the Almighty made us sit on top of the universal food chain, why why why did he not get rid of the...the...the parasite that can bring us right to the bottom level with one sniffle?
I can just imagine the darn thing in my body...one miniscule thing out to party in me at my expense. And there, as it sucks all the energy out of my cells, it calls its friends over to join the gala affair and they drink!!! Drink like there's no tomorrow, like they're drinking out of the fountain of youth or something, the greedy parasites!! And then they'll get so drunk, they'll hitch up with some female parasite and go bonk! bonk! bonk! And the next thing you know, I have littler parasites in me, running loose in my body like its a bloody playground without boundaries!!! And then they'll all drink drink drink like there's no tomorrow and the whole process will be repeated. And then they'll go bonk! bonk! bonk! again and they'll be in bed as long as it takes to create millions more parasites, and then they'll party again! And i'll be in bed too, all alone, sulking, my nose running, writhing in pain. All sick and wiped out and drained of my oh-so-precious energy.
Siiiigh...cough cough! I think I just need to take a ColdAct.
It begins with a little wriggle in the nose, like a damn waiting to burst but just biding its time. A little burning behind the eyes, that makes you squeeze them shut real tight and water. A little itch in the throat, the kind that makes you want to claw your flesh out and reach the itchy region. Incidentally, have you tried scratching your throat by doing really weird gymnastics with your tongue? It is such a relief, but a temporary one. When the itching gets back at you for trying to get rid of it, you just go berserk. And you behave like a dog with a bone stuck in its throat.
That's cold. The parasite, the scum, the...the...the ha chooo! Sniffle. I'm just sitting in front of my PC at office and typing like a zombie. I'm not listening, I'm not responding, I have loads to do and I don't care. Siiigh...cough cough! See? I can't even breathe easy!
If the Almighty made us sit on top of the universal food chain, why why why did he not get rid of the...the...the parasite that can bring us right to the bottom level with one sniffle?
I can just imagine the darn thing in my body...one miniscule thing out to party in me at my expense. And there, as it sucks all the energy out of my cells, it calls its friends over to join the gala affair and they drink!!! Drink like there's no tomorrow, like they're drinking out of the fountain of youth or something, the greedy parasites!! And then they'll get so drunk, they'll hitch up with some female parasite and go bonk! bonk! bonk! And the next thing you know, I have littler parasites in me, running loose in my body like its a bloody playground without boundaries!!! And then they'll all drink drink drink like there's no tomorrow and the whole process will be repeated. And then they'll go bonk! bonk! bonk! again and they'll be in bed as long as it takes to create millions more parasites, and then they'll party again! And i'll be in bed too, all alone, sulking, my nose running, writhing in pain. All sick and wiped out and drained of my oh-so-precious energy.
Siiiigh...cough cough! I think I just need to take a ColdAct.
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