Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly
Sometimes you need freedom. Perhaps you may think, being in the same nest always is an imprisonment. I understand that. Suddenly you fly far away. You never tell me, where you are going. I never ask you. You are always like that.
When I woke up in this morning, I searched for you. Then I realized you are not by my side. I remember very well, last night you were sleeping with me, just by my side. Before you fell into sleep, you touched my weary feathers with your pinky beak. It was not a dream. Because I can see one of your feather's inside my nest.
This is your routine. You do this from time to time. Perhaps, this nest is not warm and comfortable enough for you. Maybe, you don't like to eat the same food everyday. Same ambiance every day, that’s boring. I know, you are different than me. You think like a rebel, you dream about life always, you can never be a caged bird. That's why I like you this much too.
I remember one of my great grandparents told:
“There are birds that fly very far, even over the oceans, so they can migrate to other countries. They can avoid hard times & difficult places. One day they come again when everything is fine."
I am amazed, I’m not that type. Once I remember, when I went to the village by mistake, one boy pointed at me & said:
“Here, Look at this…. it is an “endemic bird”
I did not t realize what that boy said about me on that day. But now I know.
I did not t realize what that boy said about me on that day. But now I know.
Suddenly, I am astonished what is happening in front of my eyes. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. You alighted on the twig of the big banyan tree. I looked at you all amazed. Then you started to twitter. But, it was not you! Just a dream.
Sometimes you told me, the adventures that you have faced. I was just listening to them with widened eyes, those stories were filled with full of adventures, like how you escaped humans traps, how you flew across valleys & deserts, even in the winter. It was fascinating.
I realized that you want to make sure that there are nice places to live in this world rather than residing here in Tropics forever. Or may be you are looking for an eternal stop to spend your life. Perhaps, you are looking for a better partner. A companion who likes adventures like you do and live with him. Because I remember once you mumbled to yourself,
"Next time when I meet, I tell him the truth, I can’t suffer this way..... I'm such a nice bird… he must pay more attention to me ".
"Next time when I meet, I tell him the truth, I can’t suffer this way..... I'm such a nice bird… he must pay more attention to me ".
Not only that, I remember few months back, you came to me with weary feathers all pale looking. You sighed for weeks, didn’t eat much. But I didn’t ask.... because I thought, if I had asked you the reason, you might have got exhausted with my stupid questions. After a few days, you flew away again.
Sometimes.... I also want to fly with you long journeys, although I'm scared. (But you never asked me to come with you). Again, I think... no I must go alone and find my own adventures like you do. But... again, I think... if I also go away...
“Who will be there to welcome you? When you come back after your adventures?"
Title quoted from the poem dreams by Langston Hughes
You will be free my darling
Sometimes, I think to myself, whether I’ am bothering you, sending so
much text massages. But I know you love me too. Coz, I remember last
month, you told me that “you loved me”. It was just twenty seven days
back. It’s fine …you don’'t want to say that “you love me all the time. I
know …perhaps I wish too much or my expectations are too high. And you
are not that kind of boy who is always in love. Though I was looking
forward to meet you on last Sunday, you got some work which cannot be
postponed. I understand.
short love stories...
For the last three months we met only for two times. I was asking for another date, for last three weeks. But you kept telling busy, every day. Sometimes I think, “Do you really love me?” Perhaps you may not love me anymore, or you may have another girl friend. Again I think , you are busy. That’s the truth.
I tried to call you several times. Most of the times, either your mobile is busy or switched off.I can'’t question you the reasons for that. It is not my type. I know you got your own life, your life is yours, though we are lovers. And your own privacy, I am I always respect it. I never dig in to that. But the same time, you always know that, how much I love you and how much I like to spend the time with you.
Well ….I must sleep now; it’s almost 2 am. But before I go to bed, I must send you a text, saying “I love you, my darling”. It is my daily habit. I know you must be sleeping now and perhaps your phone is switched off. It doesn’t really matter to me. What matter really is, telling “I love you”, all the times.
"Oh… gosh" my line is disconnected, payment delayed!. What should I do now? Ah, I got a pre-paid connection for some other matter. But where is that? Where did I keep it? My memory is a mess. How can I find it out in the middle of the night? I murmured to myself… “"Necessity has no barriers or limits"”. I must find it, right now.
I was searching my room upside down…. looking everywhere in my room. In my book cupboards, under my mattress, in my pillow covers, Each and every drawer. Where would it be? Finally… “"Bingo"”. It’s in a picture-frame, which framed the picture of you. But will you recognize this number? I’m sure…, I never dialled you or did text you from this number before. So what should I do now? I think "its OK", because you must be sleeping now. So you read this massage tomorrow, anyway. By the time I could pay my mobile bill and activate my connection again, early in the morning. So, I can tell you about the strange number.
I inserted the SIM card to the mobile and typed the texts. But instantly, it sent two blank massages to you. I was like…” "Ooops",” It made me laugh and I kept typing the text, now all set to send the message to you. When I touch with my finger on the ‘send button” my phone rang….
Miracle... It’s you. You are calling me at 3.00am…. I can’t believe this. I jumped out of my bed, my head over feet. How could you recognize my number? "Ok… Ok …that doesn’t matter"... you are calling me anyhow …I knew you love me, I knew it …only thing is you bit busy. This is my fault... this is totally my fault...always I'm exaggerating...You are just great.
I picked the phone…, before I say you, even “Hello”….. You started to keep saying that…
“"Who is this? Do I know you…? Hello …who is this, at this time?" ”
I couldn't say anything, I just hung up the phone. Everything is clear like a crystal…. you have enough time to call and check a number which you never known before. Even at 3.00AM... And within a minute...
You don’t have ten seconds of time to type “"Hi”" to me who is sending thousands of messages, saying “ I love you my darling”. But you responded to this unknown number within a minute? This is really OK. …It enlightened me, that “necessity is the key”. If you really want something or if you really want someone you find the time for them. I realized... I am a big headache for you. From tomorrow morning, only grief and agonizing pain will remain with me, but you...
you will be free “my darling
By Manu Fernando
Love that never ended
Being in love with someone is a soothing feeling, making you feel that there is someone holding your hand firmly. Your beloved will always be there for you at the time of happiness and sorrow. Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage, recalls Sajad, a Kashmiri boy who fell in love with a non-kashmiri Muslim girl.
Gazing at the walls of his room Sajad kept on recalling those days of 1990’s, when he, according to him, fell in love with her.
“I never felt like that for anyone else till date, she had a different charm, the glow of her face, which was out of this world and which always encouraged me.”
Sajad used to have a glimpse of that girl who turned his nights sleepless. Sajad was unable to think of anything else apart from thinking about his love.
“I always remained eager to see her from distance, whenever I was supposed to do something new which demanded courage, I used to see her.”
Everything was happening for almost a year, one day he thought of expressing himself in front of her, making her aware of his feelings, but his courage left him in midway.
“One day I decided to see her first, so as to get some courage to accomplish this top priority task, which was important for me, more than my life and I was ready to do anything.”, Recalls Sajad.
He went to the city centre where he used to see her almost every day. As he was approaching towards her, he saw that she along with many others were running towards him; for a second Sajad was standing there like a statue, unable to move.
“I was trying to understand the entire situation happening around me.”
As Sajad was analyzing the situation, the girl reached very close to him.
“Bhaago (run away), she warned me and without further delay I also started to run with her.”
Without knowing what was actually happening around he started running.
It was the happiest moment for Sajad as he was waiting for this moment for quite a long time, the moment when Sajad will be accompanying that girl. However he wouldn’t have thought of meeting her in a situation like that. Instead of relaxing a bit and talking to each other, they both were running away in a hurry.
After this short marathon of 10 minutes both of them reached near Lambert lane in the city centre and finally Sajad could see her bit closely.
“Why were we running? I asked her and the funny thing was that she herself wasn’t aware of the reason. I still remember that funny moment which always brings about a smile on my face, full of memories”
Out of curiosity Sajad asked a man standing near to him that why everybody was running and he came to know that there were some protests near Ghanta Ghar (Clock Tower), in response government forces resorted to aerial firing and everybody ran away for cover.
“It was mere stupidity on my part that I was running away without any reason, for me this reason was enough that she was running alongside.”
After some 10 minutes situation became normal and Sajad started his much awaited conversation with her.
“I was very nervous and was in a dilemma of what to start with.”
This brief conversation came to an end very quickly and Sajad came to know that she is a non-kashmiri (from India), residing here with her family. Her father was operating a shop of Kashmiri handicrafts in the city center.
“I tried to tell her that I wanted to marry her, but thought it may be too early on my part to tell her so, I must wait.”
Before leaving the spot Sajad fixed a new date for their next meeting; something was going through his mind. Perhaps he had decided to propose her for marrying him at the next meeting.
As the date of next meeting was fixed, Sajad couldn’t resist him from having her glimpse, he just wanted to see her every day by hook or crook like it was the ultimate goal of his life. This thing continued till the day of next meeting.
As the day of next meeting was approaching, Sajad as usual went through the lanes of city center. His eyes noticed some smoke coming out of a shop. Everybody was trying to rush to the spot and so did he, but government forces didn’t allow anybody to go nearer.
Sajad was unable to make any sense out of it. The most worrisome thing was that she was missing today where she used to stay. The shop was on fire… the same shop where from they used to exchange smiles and signal which only they were able to understand.
“I searched everywhere but couldn’t find her.”
Sajad came to know that someone has set fire to this shop at midnight and an aged man spotted it in the morning when he was out for fajar namaaz (morning prayers).
Sajad continued to search her for a week altogether but all in vain, he couldn’t find her. They had planned to meet near clock tower but destiny didn’t allow this to happen.
“I had planned that we will sit in Pratap Park (local park), under the shadows of Chinar. Calmly and clearly I will tell her everything”
Sajad was very optimistic and he had some intuitions that she will accept his proposal of marrying him.
Sajad passes through the lanes of city centre every day, but was unable to find her. The shop where he spotted her everyday stands destroyed. Just the heaps of ashes were lying there.
However for Sajad there was something else lying down there and those were her memories which were still there and everything else stands vanished…
He asked other shopkeepers nearby and he came to know that this shop belonged to her father and she was helping him at this shop, where Sajad usually spotted her.
The family of that girl was doing their business there for last 6 years and was planning to expand their business across the valley, but this incident came as a setback for them and couldn’t continue with their plan.
This incident compelled them to vacate from the valley. They returned back to their place where from they had come.
However Sajad was not ready to accept this, he was still searching for her here and there... but couldn’t find her.
This is how a love story came to an end in the real world but for Sajad, she is still near that shop looking at him, forever.
By Irfan Tramboo - Country : India
Gazing at the walls of his room Sajad kept on recalling those days of 1990’s, when he, according to him, fell in love with her.
“I never felt like that for anyone else till date, she had a different charm, the glow of her face, which was out of this world and which always encouraged me.”
Sajad used to have a glimpse of that girl who turned his nights sleepless. Sajad was unable to think of anything else apart from thinking about his love.
“I always remained eager to see her from distance, whenever I was supposed to do something new which demanded courage, I used to see her.”
Everything was happening for almost a year, one day he thought of expressing himself in front of her, making her aware of his feelings, but his courage left him in midway.
“One day I decided to see her first, so as to get some courage to accomplish this top priority task, which was important for me, more than my life and I was ready to do anything.”, Recalls Sajad.
He went to the city centre where he used to see her almost every day. As he was approaching towards her, he saw that she along with many others were running towards him; for a second Sajad was standing there like a statue, unable to move.
“I was trying to understand the entire situation happening around me.”
As Sajad was analyzing the situation, the girl reached very close to him.
“Bhaago (run away), she warned me and without further delay I also started to run with her.”
Without knowing what was actually happening around he started running.
It was the happiest moment for Sajad as he was waiting for this moment for quite a long time, the moment when Sajad will be accompanying that girl. However he wouldn’t have thought of meeting her in a situation like that. Instead of relaxing a bit and talking to each other, they both were running away in a hurry.
After this short marathon of 10 minutes both of them reached near Lambert lane in the city centre and finally Sajad could see her bit closely.
“Why were we running? I asked her and the funny thing was that she herself wasn’t aware of the reason. I still remember that funny moment which always brings about a smile on my face, full of memories”
Out of curiosity Sajad asked a man standing near to him that why everybody was running and he came to know that there were some protests near Ghanta Ghar (Clock Tower), in response government forces resorted to aerial firing and everybody ran away for cover.
“It was mere stupidity on my part that I was running away without any reason, for me this reason was enough that she was running alongside.”
After some 10 minutes situation became normal and Sajad started his much awaited conversation with her.
“I was very nervous and was in a dilemma of what to start with.”
This brief conversation came to an end very quickly and Sajad came to know that she is a non-kashmiri (from India), residing here with her family. Her father was operating a shop of Kashmiri handicrafts in the city center.
“I tried to tell her that I wanted to marry her, but thought it may be too early on my part to tell her so, I must wait.”
Before leaving the spot Sajad fixed a new date for their next meeting; something was going through his mind. Perhaps he had decided to propose her for marrying him at the next meeting.
As the date of next meeting was fixed, Sajad couldn’t resist him from having her glimpse, he just wanted to see her every day by hook or crook like it was the ultimate goal of his life. This thing continued till the day of next meeting.
As the day of next meeting was approaching, Sajad as usual went through the lanes of city center. His eyes noticed some smoke coming out of a shop. Everybody was trying to rush to the spot and so did he, but government forces didn’t allow anybody to go nearer.
Sajad was unable to make any sense out of it. The most worrisome thing was that she was missing today where she used to stay. The shop was on fire… the same shop where from they used to exchange smiles and signal which only they were able to understand.
“I searched everywhere but couldn’t find her.”
Sajad came to know that someone has set fire to this shop at midnight and an aged man spotted it in the morning when he was out for fajar namaaz (morning prayers).
Sajad continued to search her for a week altogether but all in vain, he couldn’t find her. They had planned to meet near clock tower but destiny didn’t allow this to happen.
“I had planned that we will sit in Pratap Park (local park), under the shadows of Chinar. Calmly and clearly I will tell her everything”
Sajad was very optimistic and he had some intuitions that she will accept his proposal of marrying him.
Sajad passes through the lanes of city centre every day, but was unable to find her. The shop where he spotted her everyday stands destroyed. Just the heaps of ashes were lying there.
However for Sajad there was something else lying down there and those were her memories which were still there and everything else stands vanished…
He asked other shopkeepers nearby and he came to know that this shop belonged to her father and she was helping him at this shop, where Sajad usually spotted her.
The family of that girl was doing their business there for last 6 years and was planning to expand their business across the valley, but this incident came as a setback for them and couldn’t continue with their plan.
This incident compelled them to vacate from the valley. They returned back to their place where from they had come.
However Sajad was not ready to accept this, he was still searching for her here and there... but couldn’t find her.
This is how a love story came to an end in the real world but for Sajad, she is still near that shop looking at him, forever.
By Irfan Tramboo - Country : India
Happiness fled
She passed, the young girl
Live & quick like a bird
With a shining flower in hand
With a new poem in her lips
Perhaps, she is the One, in the world
my heart would respond
who vists my darkest nights
lighting by her gaze
But no, my youth is over
Good Bye, my soft gleaming ray
Perfume, Young girl, Harmony
Happiness passed away, it fled!
By Gerad de Nerval
A year ago, in April , he wrote this poem by Gerard de Nerval to her when he met her for the first time. She was so sad to read it , she cried , was sad for him, but she did not tell him.
From that moment , she decided to make him happy, give him the happiness he expected , even if he did not ask for anything. She too had a broken heart , but she did not want to appear weak, melancholic . She was more than a bird, a little lively bird. She laughed aloud, she rushed to see him everywhere, she was energetic , full of life.
She did not expect flowers from him, instead she gave him flowers , because in the poem he loved flowers which he missed desperately . Softness, the beauty of flowers . So, she picked red poppies , white daisies , small sunflowers, all wild flowers in the fields in the spring. She did not smell them much for the fear of killing their scents. She wanted to keep the freshness of flowers, the scent of flowers, just for him. In winter, she had nothing , not even a petal. She was afraid of the whiteness on the dry fields.
Before, she never wrote love poems. She began to write love poems crazily, just for him , daring to express her deep feelings . She was not ashamed to write , her love for him .
She was not afraid of being criticized, being judged , being ridiculed by everyone , even by him for daring to write these follies. But, she continued her poems that did not rhyme always , free verse , like her love, without rules.
She did not try to please him with false words that seemed suitable for an elegant woman. She knew he loved the elegant women, but she wanted to stay as a girl , naive , innocent , pure, just like in the poem.
She just wanted to see him happy at night . She did not want him sleeping all alone , isolated in the deep darkness. She stood beside him , so close as a man, to provide warmth to assure him that he is no longer alone , he can count on her forever. She wrote him bedstories to read before sleeping.She sent them constantly, every night . She was afraid of the loneliness of the night , the loneliness who sleeps with her everynight.
But ,she did not want to give that feeling to him, she always made sure to wish him Good night , even if he was far away.
Perfume, she did not know what to do with it . For his birthday, she offered him a perfume, to make him happy . He did not knowthat it was because of the poem that she offered one. She did not know if it was a good gift for a man, but she just gave it , wishing his life would be perfumed. She did not write him a card for his birthday which he celebrated with his family , without her, because she thought a little card was too small for him, she could not write everything there, her love.She did not want that happiness is over for him or his youth. She consoled him with beautiful words , beautiful sentences to restore his youth , to find his happiness seemed to be fleeing from him.She lived a year for him, to love him, to give him the smiles while hiding her own sadness. She did not want love. Or to be loved, but love, love for nothing, hopeless love , love to love.Happiness for him, as she could give. Open his heart , listen if he wants to express . Harmony, create harmony while suffering in a volcano. She thought he was happy, she was successful. She was happy for him .
This year, this April , this spring, He scolded her not to bother him anymore !
By Jahooli Devi
Typing poems
I remember, twenty years back, when we were teenagers, I was writing love poems to you. Oh those poems...…I never wrote love letters to you. I really don’t know why it is. Only poems. I wrote poems on papers, with a ball point pen. Then, right after I wrote, I wanted to give those to you. I can’t post it of course. Coz, if it’s handed to a wrong person? I can’t let a mistake to taking place. So, I waited until I meet you. I counted the days with my fingers to meet you. Not like today, no internet, no Skype, no e-mails, no SMS. But, it was nice to wait always, it raised my enthusiasm to see you always. Waiting was my one and only happiness those days, waiting and waiting…oh…yes and waiting. It always kindled the hope.
When I meet you, I hand my poem in yours. You slowly, slowly, open it with shaking fingers, and read, may be twice, may be thrice. So...I watch your face. I can see the facial changes…your face begins to be reddish, your eyes, widely opened, your fore head with an exclamation…and then you look at me with a sweet smile, sometimes with sad eyes. you don’t talk with me for a moment and then sigh. A deep sigh!!! Again, keep that piece of paper on your lips, and then on the nose, while you breath heavily, then roll your lips. Then smile again. Oh…gosh…how much I like to see those facial impressions? So...I think to myself…. its worth more than waiting for my life time, to see those things in you. The next thing is the best part…you tell…
“It smells good…I mean… scent of this…I like it…what did you put on to this?”
“Nothing” I say,
“M…m…m...Well, then it may your life’s smell on this piece of paper, it remains here”
yes…it may be my life’s smell. It is wrapped over this piece of paper. But it’ll fade within few days.
Eventually….You got married to someone else. I got married to someone else. Our destinies led us to different destinations. I stopped by another women. You stopped by another man. Though you are well educated , you choose to be a house wife. I choose to be with computers as my profession.
But…Still I’m writing to you. you know that I'm Writing?... oh no…. no more writings…I’m typing…yes…thinking and typing… But I don’t wait to give those to you, like before. Coz, I know, we never gonna meet again. And now…if I want...There are so many ways to hand in those letters with more security. Security? for those poems? Why? Oh….no..no…, no more security…instead of that I publish those in the “internet”. Otherwise what I’m going to do with those?
Ah...I forgot… I just want to mention something, have you ever noticed that “WE” are always nearby each other? And, “YOU & I” are always nearby each others. no ...no ...better to say "I" in "YOU".
Of course yes….But what on earth?
Oh…gosh…on the “computer key board” for god sake.….each time I strike on them to type, I remind our sweet memories. It feels me, “you & I” never be parted, “we” always be together in my typing poems.
By – Manu Fernando.
Haunted by Love
He knows that I am there, waiting for him, patiently & insanely.
He knows that I will arrive on time to welcome him.
He knows that he has impressed me enough.
He knows that he does not have to bother anymore.
He went away confidently, this time...
Because, I am haunted by his soul, possessed by his charm, bewitched by his words & hypnotised by his beauty.
I am haunted by the ghost of this living man who is absent now, who is far away at the moment. I can't find any other word than haunted, because from the moment I wake up, till the moment I sleep ( If I really sleep ) even during my sleep I can not think of anyone else but him & I am always in a deep conversation with him, bath room, toilet , kitchen, bus stop, bus 220, bus 8, library, corridors, lecture halls, parks, supermarkets, fountains, lakes, mountains everywhere I go, I carry him within me, rather his ghost follows me, I don't know my blurred mind is incapable of explaining. I have told him all the impressive things before I go to bed, in the whole wide world even though my whole wide world is very limited. I have told him about my life during those silent conversations, my childhood, every step of my life, even though I don't like the word conversation where two people are actively engaged, he is just there in front of me, that is what matters, but he is not that far to be in front, he is close or he is actually inside me, so when I talk he hears clearly, he does not miss anything because when I really talk lips cheat me, words come out arrogantly, violently betraying my thoughts, from my naturally split tongue.
He has haunted me because at night I wake up suddenly feeling someone living inside my body, a feeling of someone entering to my body & I moan in a sweet pain, my breath accelerating during those haunted moments of exhilaration. Then he is all over my face during those musing nights, my nose sensitive to his smell, Rose masqué or Sandalwood as I believe, is in a constant battle to fill the lungs as much as it can, my eyes sensitive to his gaze, is in a great hurry to stock the images inside the head, my mouth sensitive to his words devour hurriedly large quantities of them inside myself, my ears sensitive to his sound, all erected towards him to record as much as I can, my mind picks, gathers, stocks, saves, compiles, assembles, accumulates, flocks images of him, to be consumed during his long absence. When people run towards super markets in real life for fearing a shortage of food, I take part willingly in this dream marrathon to run towards those images, catch ,condense , pickle them for rainy days.
Sometimes, I wake up from nightmares where he whispers to my ear in a honeyed, soft voice that he wants a divorce, like in an American film. He pronounces those words with such a confidence & a serenity like the day he first pronounced that I will need him more & more. Divorce, it made me start even in my sleep. But, I just smile at him from the corners of my mouth at such a request, with so much of grace, all nodding. Go ahead, I say, bravely. I wonder in my sleep whether I should cry, but no tears appearing, I continue to look at his darling face, rather darling nose , oh no darling eyes they shine as always, they say he wants a divorce that he is tired of me! How can I refuse that to my darling man? How can I ever hurt him by my hand cuffs of selfish love. If he wants another love , I should let him go, I should not shed a cruel, deceitful tear to keep him, to prison him, make him suffer & miserable. Go my love, find another, be happy. But then again in my sleep, I get the comfort that we are still lovers, never even thought of a marriage, so how can a divorce is possible?
During the day, I am all paralysed, I sigh at my plight which carries me in its uncomfortable wheel chair of love of the man who haunts me every night. I have mixed up past, present & future. Days are just long, calendars have lost its value, the time has become a curse. I seek him, while daydreaming, fantasize endelessly on him, indulge in those hallucinations with greatest desire in every second, every minute, every hour not leaving any lapse in time.
Yet, he is absent as always, only his ghost remains within me.
Yet, I am focused, the month of March, his arrival.
I know one thing for sure, my life begins in March and it ends too...
By Jahooli Devi
Extra(ordinary) story of EX
Ex is a very common word these days. If you don't have an Ex, your life is a boring one! People prefer to call Ex as "MY" ex. I wondered...
My Ex should not be called My Ex because the word My implies everything that is mine. If I choose to deny wholeheartedly today what Was mine earlier, there is no logic in using the word MY again to refer that creature. My Ex should not be called My ex at any cost for the simple reason that I don't wish to carry any of his memories, so he should be The Ex like all the Exes I had. It is been so long that I watched X-men on the Big screen & I am not so fond of any of those Thrillers. Movie heros have long been expired from my heart rather I , myself have voluntarily extinguished those extraordinary flames which burnt me from time to time. Therefore, If I ever use My in front of the word Ex I better get a X-ray of my brain as soon as possible if I can really locate the exact place of that organ in my body because I highly doubt the existence of it after examining my behaviour up to the present.
I always wondered at the word Ex, because whoever invented that word should be given a trophy because I can't find any other suitable word to venerate those "extremely" adorable creatures on this Earth, as I still don't have much experiences with the ones from Mars, even though once a Man asked me to go to Mars which I rejected week heartedly considering the long expedition.
By the way, let me give you examples from my life & from my general observation after talking to many heart-broken ladies who keep on reminiscing the exultant affairs they had over the years. I have had couple of exes & to my extreme surprise they all wanted only one thing from me which I rejected vehemently giving excuses, which made them so exasperated. So, among those exceptional cases, I chose one extraordinary "six-packed", after going a through a X- factor session in my heart. Like all the reality shows, I was also dead wrong.
Exactly, five years ago, when I met this Ex, by then not the Ex, I was exceedingly exhilarated about the excellent man I met & was excessively obsessed with him. This exaltation lasted for a while & the excitement was in a really high level that the excessive heart beat was indeed a great threat to my health while I had a really had time facing exams at the university. I only existed for his happiness then gradually, I excluded the normal world & exiled myself to his extra terrestrial land with lot of expectations. The existence was all full of roses with hidden thrones. Thus, the love expanded day by day, the exercises & the experiments were carried on & I was on my way to become an expert in a certain subject while we explored what should not be exposed in public places in an explicit manner. With out any prior expectations, I used to get really expensive gifts, day by day his expenditure went high & I was encouraging this exorbitant expedition of Love, as one may call it.
Yet, I was kind of doubtful about this extravaganza from the beginning even though I enjoyed every bit of it. In his extremist behaviour, I got scolded million times & he gave the full stop to my extra curricular activities & always kept me in the exclusion zone for the simple fact that his head was retarded due to the Othello syndrome. Time passed by, till the day I had an explosion in my head after reading an excerpt from one of his e-mails which I broke in to secretly using hacking explosives because my extra sensory perception was kept telling me something was going wrong. After a careful exegesis, Exclamation Marks flashed around my head & I wanted to execute his head at once with an axe. It was not explicit the content so I wanted further explanation of the exhibition of his excrete show. So, I exchnaged a word with him. I was ready to listen to any excuses of this Executive even though it was so excruciating.
Then, the real extravaganza began. When exclaimed the meaning of his mail, he explained quite calmly that his Matrimony has already taken place with another exquisite while I was sitting for exams & was exhausted after preparing exposés on existentialism and ex cetera while I had no idea this man has already had gone his honey moon excursion & now only I was given the invitation to take part in the extra marital activities exempting me from the institution of merry-age just to create an extended family! Two wives not a bad idea! Humbled by such an honour from this greatest Excellency & I with a proven record of extemporised behaviour up to present willingly accepted this extension because I was exorcised by such a thing called Love expecting him to get a divorce as soon as possible, thinking extremely illogically even though I had the fear of getting ex-communicated from my family. No exception, History repeats! While he dragged on the subject making me exhausted day by day I decided to leave my exotic land because exoticism was too much to bear.
When time passed by ,I completely expelled him from my heart by using the newly purchased "exfoliation" which I find exceedingly adorable. I exhaled his smell from my nostrils, deleted all the texts in the phone & buried up all these execrable memories in the deep pits of excrement that no excavator can ever find and exhumed completely. I only remember his face when I nobly excrete with sweaty efforts inside toilet.
I am so tired of EX, so as the word EX, are not they everywhere?
Even in a story?
By Jahooli Devi
My Painful heart
I always thought I deserved better in everything. But most of the time I was not that much lucky to have anything. Although things happened like that, my heart was not ready to accept that reality, so I was always trying to achieve anything even if it’s so hard or painful. But eventually, I was drained of the energy to hold on.
Every time I was with her, I wondered who I was to her. Sometimes, I thought I was just her friend. Friends, after all, would make some sort of effort to catch up with each other. But, I was more likely her assistant. When she needed me for something, she wanted my assistance, that’s all she wanted from me. But, whenever she wanted my attention, help or kindness I did it with the bottom of my heart. If she had a broken heart, I was nearby her to fix it. I was so happy to do that. If she missed the classes, or had any difficulties about the projects, I was helping her without doing my own work. Sometimes, she was mumbling her, feelings and emotions via telephone. I only listened to them, I never did let her know that my feelings or emotions about anything. It’s because, I thought she might be fed up with my things. So… I cried at the other end of the phone, instead. But I tried to make her up and I was always telling, everything going to be Ok for her. I always keep my interest about her as a secret. I never gave any clue that I liked her very much. I never made any effort to ask her out. I wanted to flirt with her, badly but I never. I wanted her to feel I was the boy she was looking for.
When she was flirting with other boys, I cried hard in my heart and kept my patience. Finally, I thought to create a distance between us and go away from her life. But, after few days again, she came and asked my help and my kindness. So, again my hope kindled. But after sometime same thing happenned again. This was circulating through out the past three years. Eventually I realized that she was not for me. I managed not to look at her. I skipped the most of the moments that I should be with her. When she rang my phone, I ignored it and concentrated my mind for some other activity.
At the end, my University life was also ending up. Now time has passed almost for six months. She did n't phone me anymore. She didn’t ask about me, even from a friend of mine. I was pretty sure that she did not miss me. She might have forgotten my existence, simple . When I think about all this, deeply, it feels so hurt in my heart that she totally forgot me in her heart. But at the same time I realized that she never gave any satisfaction for me but the pain. It was the truth. It’s always hard to believe this painful truth for my heart.
By Manu Fernando
Love and Life
I am George Stevenson. I met Cathy Lawry in the High school. She was a pretty girl. Her eyes were in brown color and she had a nice long blond hair. We were in the same age too. I was fascinated about her and we became very good friends in months. After one year of friendship, we became lovers. Cathy meant everything to me, since then.
After I finished the High school, I had to find out a job. I did many jobs but I couldn’t find a fare job for me. So...I didn’t have money in my pocket. But Cathy never said a word about it. She always ecouraged me to find a job. back in time, I noticed that couple of rich guys were tailing on Cathy. But she never cared about them. She always stick with me. I was really happy about her love. That was the only thing I got.
Time passed, I knew that without a job, I’m gonna loose Cathy soon. However I got a sales job in a super market, where I found my destiny.
There, three other sales guys were there, and practicing as a music band. I was born in talent for guitars. Eventually we set up our band and got chances to play in parties. It didn’t passed years; our success was rising up day by day. We quit from our sales jobs and played full time. Once we got a TV show and we hit the jackpot.
There after nobody stopped our blooming success. Our band was popular so rapidly. All this time Cathy was nearby me like my shadow. Money was coming to me continuously. I spent more and more money for her. It was the happiest time of my life.
But day by day, my life was changing; I got much money, lots of friends, and the girls. Most of the nights, I was drunk. Eventually Cathie’s association was a headache for me. I wanted to stay away from her. Because, I felt Cathy ruins my privacy. I met new girls every night. I didn’t want to stick with Cathy any more. But she came to me almost every time she could.
One evening she came to my apartment, on that day I was with another girl. But she didn’t blame me. but she just asked:
“Why…why this? What happened to you Darling?”
I felt much guilty; I thought she may jump on me like a devil. But she didn’t do that. I felt shame on me. I felt guilty about me. Finally I got angry about myself. But I exposed my anger on her…
“Bitch…you don’t need to come to me anymore…let me live my life alone…this is mine...not yours....get lost you bitch…!!!”
She left me forever on that day. I didn’t see her again. it was so ease to my mind. After one year, I left Munich. I came to Nuremberg and my life was a heaven since then. I got all most all the happiness, there. Girls, money, Drunk nights, fancy cars.... I thought this is the life.
Life was going like a fairytale, for another eight years. One night I felt very uncomfortable in my body. So I got some tablets and energy drinks like the other days. But it was continuing for two three weeks. Eventually, I got fever too. Some time I sweat all over my body in nights. I felt that my body is not same any more. Finally I stopped by a doctor.
There, I got the shocking news of my life. I was infected by HIV. In a second, I realized everything. But I was too late.
Eventually my body and Soul were decaying. I was abandoned by my music band so easily.. My friends abandoned me. but still I got money to spend. I used to take medicine for every day now. But I knew that... very near future, medicine cannot makes me live further. day by day I reached to my death. Sometimes while I was just sleeping on my bed, I memorized my past. There, I felt "Cathy", as one and only my own angel. She full filled all my life. My inside was filled with her memories...only her memories. She was the one and only thing which is remained in my mind after all.Then I realized what was there in my subconscious. But everything is now gone.
One day, while I was lying on my bed, in the nursing room, I saw my living angel was coming to me. Though I didn’t see her for last 10 years, it was not difficult to recognize her pretty face.
“She is more prettier than before” I thought to myself. here is my life... again...for a second I felt like... good old days. but it lasted only for few seconds....
I’m just a living Skeleton. She came and stand in front of me. I couldn’t stare at her eyes straightly any more. I turned my head down. I felt, my eyes were getting wet, eventually that wet made tear drops and they were spilling over....one by one on my cheeks. Suddenly I felt something run through my hair, in seconds I remembered warm feelings of her hands, on my head, after ten years of time. she was running her fingers through my hair. I couldn’t stay still anymore. I just hold and tight her hands in my hands. There... I felt the wedding ring on her left hand’s ring finger. I screamed and cried a lot. So... her too. There was no more to talk. Silent was so good for me, rather than making sad by talking any more. She left me after few minutes and promised to visit me again, as soon as she can.
When she was leaving I felt that, there is no more strength to live, in my body or soul.
After 13 days of the above incident, one morning, a nurse found George's dead body, on the bed in the nursing room. His diary was found inside his pillow cover.
This was the "love and life" story of “George Stevenson”.
By Manu Fernando
The French Lover
Ever since I started to learn French, I wanted to go for a date with a "French Lover" because people say they are are the best lovers! I also imagined a Date with one of those romantic, passionate & handsome French lovers, floating on a boat in Seine river, looking at the dazzling Eiffel tower at midnight, holding hands. People also say that we should aim the Moon so that we can atleast land among the stars. Here I am, landed in Aix- en provence, 800km away from Paris, without the sight of any river or a tower but just a big fountain in the city. It is all water, that is how someone should be positive in life!
So, we met by accident on a dating site, because he wrote to me in such elegant French words that I had to scroll through Le Petit Robert & verify again in Harraps dictionary for Beginners, to find the real meaning of his message which in simple terms suggested that we might meet for a Dinner Date ! I , myself was elated at the idea because I was already so tired of the many boring profiles of the young French bachelors who asked for the size of the breast & the hips, the colour of the eyes & the salary of the month which discouraged me, at least to talk with them. I told him that I was a feminist ( eventhough it is not a job), ardent follower of Simone de Beauvoir which impressed him without any doubt. He must have thought that I was a powerful woman activist from Asia.
The happy day, arrived. I wokeup rather jumped off from my bed to get ready for the big day ahead of me. I thought I was going to make history on this day. After having read many useful articles on how to get ready for a date because I had never been on a formal "date" in European Style, I chose the best clothes, the best perfume , the best shoes & the best handbag bought at Monoprix eventhough they were all counterfeits. Make up was simple with bit of powder here & there learnt from Youtube tutorials & hair style was less complicated than the French girls because I did not want to scare him away at first sight. I also checked an Indian restaurant in the City centre which has Happy hours and Set menus. I already felt powerful because I was going to pay for his dinner. I wanted to be diffrent & radical even with a French Lover!
Things were pretty good at home with casual fallings & stumbling, breaking glasses & throwing away the horrible clothes which made me forgot the last bus which carries me to the City Centre. Bad omen. I was determinded to walk 2 km even with tight heels which I hardly wear in normal days , just to see this wonderful creature. Meeting at the railway station at 6.30pm. I managed to arrive at 6.45pm just to find out his train was delayed in one hour. Second bad omen. It means there won't be any Happy Hour, but Nervous Hour because I will have to pay the normal price for everything.
While the heart beat accelaretad and the mind was not working properly with the calculations,
He arrived.
I was expecting a man in full black suit with a bow tie like in a romantic movie. Instead I saw a man getting down from the train with a black jacket & denims carrying a back pack! I wished the gurads atleast opened the door for him. He was tall & rigid looking and did not smile at all. I thought it was the first sign of a gentleman behaviour. How do we know the behaviour of French lovers? They never taught us that part in the class.
" Hey girl, How are you ? Nice to meet you then "
Such romantic words, I literally melted!
"Yes, I am doing good, actually really good , Let's go straight for Dinner because I have a strict diet discipline "
Eventhough I eat only sandwiches at night on other days, I kind of pretended that we should eat correct food on correct time while I was thinking if we reach the restaurant by 7.55pm we will still be inside that Happy hour scheme so Drinks would cost less. Five minutes is still Happy hour. But, I need to order quickly to avoid unnecessary lateness which might cut us away from the privileged group.
He was so enthusiastic with tingling eyes, perfect French lover, I said to myself, who followed me dearly. As soon as we arrived at the restaurant , to my greatest surprise or to the horrible shock, we found that it was closed due to an unprecedented situation. I wanted to keep calm, like the Tsunami eventhough I was infuriated. What could possible happen in a restaurant ? Did Indian cook burn his mutton ? Did a French lady scream from pain after eating too much Garam Masala in her dish ? Or , did some one die eating too much from their Thalis. It is the universal stupidity in these Asian restaurants !
" Don't worry , Girl, let me find a good French restaurant around , Isn't it cute you give a French dinner for a French ? "
" Yes, absolutely cute ! " while guessing perfectly what was on my way. I was praying all Gods of Hindu Krishna, Vishnu & Ganesh to make him think of a cheap restaurant in this highly provincial town of Bourgeois where we have to pay atleast 5 euros for a 5ml cup of coffee.
French lovers have a very good taste, I think it was Too elegant. He chose the best. The restaurant Deux Garçon built in 1792 ( I sniffed some French revolution there), which is the most expensive restaurant in the town, reputed for its highly delicate food. Coincidently, it is next to my ice cream shop where I work as a waitress, my part time student job ! My heart beat again accelerated because the waiters at Deux Garcons know me quite well, and if they see me with a guy alll dressed up they would definitely come to say hi. Should I be telling him that I sell ice creams in the neighbour shop ? Is it a good job for a woman? What a turn off for a first date !
So, We sat. The waiter came. ( Thank god, a new waiter)
" Do you need Red roses around you sir ?"
" Please ask Mademoiselle, she is the one who decides"
He seemed to be perfectly respecting women by giving them the chance to decide. Red roses ? Am I going to eat roses ? My tongue was itching to say.
"Yes, please" I said like a lady.
"Candles too Miss ?"
Don't they have electricity in these developed countries ? How can I see what is in my food when there are only candles around me ? Then again, I stopped the bitter words.
"With pleasure" with a sweet smile.
"What is for Hors d'oeuvre, Mademoiselle ? "
Such a big name for a plate of food ! Now these waiters ask so many questions, I don't have a degree in French food science , Get me something to eat for twenty euros for two persons, I just wanted to say.
" Please bring the menu."
There you go, instead of a small leaflet kind of thing, he brought a book , a book of Menu, with long descriptions which needs to be read at leisure during a vacation by the beach.
"I recommend you to order battered snails, I think you would love them." Jean said.
Snails ? My heart sank & my mind ran back to the small snails sliding in the home garden in Sri lanka full of shiny liquid. I have never eventhought of touching them because of their gluy butts. And, now he suggests battered snails ? How can I refuse because I am here to learn their culture & mix with them.
"Oh, cool, I would love to" . I said all approvingly.
If I ever knew that snails had a value I would have started an export business, it is rare women in business though.
Now, I restarted the calculation, how much for one battered snail, it cannot be more than one euro, is it that expensive a snail ? If he eats three snails, and I pretend to eat one snail, it would be four euros for both of us. Mathematical enigmas are indeed a problem.
Instead, the waiter came with a huge plate full of tiny escargots. And Jean absolutely dipped in to it with garlic sauce.
"How tasty they are, I can eat hundreds of them"
"Yes, you are right" said I suppressing the nausea for food & for the hundered Euro note.
"What would you like to drink Sir ?"
"I would go for Redwine, for lady I think White."
When He said white, I also became white because my red blood cells started to cease.
"Which year sir ?"
" Bring us wine from 1900s'"
I sighed gaily.
The French has a thing for old, expired stuff, the more it expires the more it has value, even for food! It is us who never keep anything beyond two days even in a fridge. Now, I will be drinking rotten wine and paying for this expired stuff eventhought he says quality comes from the antique ! Why don't these old women have much value today ?
"You should eat crispy frog legs too, none can ever beat them."
World started to rotate, and frogs went jumping & hopping infront of me. How can I possibly eat that green, slimy frog legs in the name of Love? Am I in the hell with the Devil ?
"Oh later, not now . These days I am on a diet, we should not eat a lot for dinner. You know Ladies !
"Ha ha ha" he laughed.
Yes, Frogs are not hard to find, later , later !
"Then, Why don't you try Foie Gras? Let's order that, because I love to see you enjoying french food.
Foie Gras? I think I have heard this term somewhere. I typed immediately on Google search pretending that I got a SMS.
Apparently, it is a duck liver fattened from over feeding and is one of the most expensive food. Now, I am pretty sure this French man is the disguised Devil directly sent from Hell to pay for my sins up to now !
"Go ahead, let's give a try. I am flexible, you know open to any suggestions. You look so handsome when you pronounce the word Foie Gras. Music to my ears"
Eventhough I wanted to tell him that he looked like a pig who wants to be over fed & while I was feeling exactly the pain of a over-fed duck due to its high price.
"One portion of Foie Gras please" .The waiter approved.
"Why so ? You don't like to try?"
"Oh, no let's share because sharing is caring. We should always practice it from the very beginning."
He even approved, not knowing that it would cut the bill.
Foie gras arrived, I tasted , it was divine to the tongue. Actually, it was divine than the man himself and I cursed myself for not coming to eat Foie Gras all alone , now that I have to share it by half, I gave a disgusted look when I saw him enjoying the rest of the Foie Gras which was supposed to be mine, all to myself !
My tummy was already filled, I thought to move on with the conversation. Because, I did not get to talk about women empowerment and the equal rights project which I have on my mind. As soon as I was about to talk about it, he asked:
"What would you prefer for Entrée ?"
Your head! Words stopped again.
"What is entrée Jean ?" I asked ignorantly.
"Oh , I thought you knew it. After Hors d'ouvre, then comes the main dish ? Let me choose again for you because I understand you don't know these thing very well"
"Of course, choose, the choice is all yours today"
"As you don't know much, let's try Boudin Noir with baked apples."
"What? Boudhha Noir ?" I thought about Black skinned Bouddha. Is he a racist too?
"Oh no, It is a sausage made from blood."
"Great, Bloody sausage !"
I dig in to the bloody sausage as one stabs a knife in to the heart. Blood was in my head too, I was already loosing the appetite and legs were paralysing. While he serenely swallowed what was offered, I started to calculate, numbers could not stay in one place they were flashing in front of the eyes and he was all focussed on his plate.
Again the waiter came, with a plate of salads, I ate the leaves like a cow, rather grazed them while perfectly talking about the benefits of vegetables & leaves on a diet.
Again that black suited man came, with a plate full of Cheese, with green puss on it, they stinked from far like he was bringing a plate of poop directly from the toilet pit.
He did not stop, again he came, this time with tarts, small cakes & ice creams, they all lied ahead of us happily.
The question at the exam papaper came to my mind:
Should women pay for the fist date ? I imagined writing an answer, they should pay from the second date. Atleast , Asian women should start to pay from the second date!
The black dressed Faustus agent came this time with steaming black coffee as if I was not going to digest what was eaten tonight. If he ever knew that I burn more calories thinking than eating. Do brain celles burn calories ?
The plates came & went , he ate, my heart stopped temporarily.
He came with the bill, I saw him from far with my fading eyes, I was almost fainting, and smiling, rather grinning.
312 euros.
Exactly the rent for my room! As if my house owner has told him. I paid, card inserted, took only two seconds.
What do you for living Jean?
"Actually, I am unemployed, living on allocations. I would love to be a househusband oneday. Where shall we sleep now?"
"On the road !" Words splashed out, thinking how the Landlord chase me out from the house for not paying the rent.
"You are a funny feminist. I just love you." He said darlingly.
"You are my perfect French Lover!" I said daringly.
By Jahooli Devi
Snow Princess
I just moved out from my apartment. I really don't know where to go. But I want to kill this night too, like any other nights. My heart is so heavy. I know, it’s filled with of emptiness. It’s almost getting dark around. So, I walk through this side walk around and around so blindly, everyday again and again. I don’t want to stop nearby anything. I see the street lights so blurredly; I thought it’s due to the snow fall. This Snow reminds me a lot about you and me. I used to call you as my “Snow Princess”. You, soft and beautiful like white snow fall. You are the like the snow angel sent from heaven along with magic dust of snow flakes.
I cared for you. I protected you. But I was never able to wake you up from a “kiss”. Other Princes come and give kisses and awake you up. Then again, when you are tired with them you come to me and sleep with me without a fear. Of course…. I protect you no matter what; you can rely on me without any fear. That’s why I am there.
“Once, I remembered, you merely hold my finger and walk with me on a snowy byway. Suddenly you were going to fall because of a slippery tile. And I and hold you, putting my arms around your waist. I may stock to you for seconds, may be more. Really, I couldn’t realize what was happening. You got my hands off so quickly and jumped off, then stared me. I saw that your face began to frown.”
I know you never wanted to think of me. It’s not your fault, I guess. It’s my miserable life.
Still remember just like yesterday, the day you fought and broke up with your previous boy friend Chris (the long hair guy), you came for me and cried the whole day. You hit my shoulders and cried, cried...Until your voice gets hoarseness, you cried. You fall upon me and shed tears until my shirt wet with tears. When you fall upon my shoulders, even I felt your hearts ticking. But I know, you never know that I cried too, each and every time you cry. I wanted to cry like a little boy, to release my pain, always. But I never can do that, in front of you.
Then after four months again, you were felling love with “Marlon” the Tattooed guy. He never cares about you either. But you were fascinating about him. Sometime you didn't give me at least a call for two three weeks and stick to him. I’m really happy though, coz, you are happy. But few months later, again you broke up with him and came to me. I was there for you, as always. So…again… you told lot about you and your dreams. I was not in any dream of you. Even you never remind my name, in your dream, at least as a friend. I realized how miserable I am. But I never wanted to leave you either from your friendship. It’s like though flowers were picked, still tree to blooms flowers. Though you did hurt me so much, I never wanted to leave you.
I never fed up for caring you. You always wanted me as a good friend who cares about you. But always I wanted more than that. I wanted to care about you as my sweet love, I wanted to make you happy in every minute, make you laugh, to take your soul to higher ground . I wanted to see your face every minute; I wanted to hear your voice every minute.
Oh..Gosh…my heart is full of love about you. But how I’m gonna tell you? I know I never gonna tell you. Cos’ you want me as your best friend. Day by day, I was falling love with you so deeply. Day by day I got deeper feelings about you. Coz’ you always brought me the happiness. The courage, the hope to live, but…. not love, never.
I feel a warm feeling on my eye lid. Realized my eyes are filled with tears. I just wipe my eyes with my glove. Then I put my hands in to pocket in the over-coat, and walk again. I pass many people, buildings, vehicles, but I feel them all so unreal. It seems, I came from mars.
It's all like a dream and now it’s a tragedy for me, that dream is over too, but I never will forget the days we spend together. Sometimes I feel you are walking with me and laughing beside me. Then I thought to myself, “What can I change to get you in to my life?” I know it’s impossible. I can’t control anything. Even my own life.
It’s almost 11.00pm. I don’t have any reason to go to my apartment back. I sat on a bench. What I suppose to do now? Again…I remember one time I asked her that…
“I like to see you dress in a “Black color sleeveless mini gown”.
Then she smiled and nodded.
One day, she wore black color mini frock and came to see me with a smile. That was wonderful; she was an angel to me. I felt very lucky to have her nearby me. On that day we went out for a dinner too. And we danced too. That incident really made me happy. Though you always belong to someone else, you made me happy sometime. I always wanted to be with you at anyhow.
Life went so fast, and the day came, that you told me, you gonna marry “Lim”.
I asked “lim”?
“Who is that?”
That’s your new lover…you really loved him, you told me that he is the one for you, and the perfect guy for you. this time you gonna marry him too. So after three days you left me, to marry him.
I merely searched my upper pocket in the overcoat and found your birthday card which sent to me, it says,
“Happy birth day “Liyan”…I’m sending wishes for your 58th birthday with Hugs and kisses!!!”
I know…my heart, and shoulders are there for you, whenever you need them. Coz’ I’m your protector, and the guardian until you find your next lover.
By Manu Fernando.
Life was going like a fairytale, for another eight years. One night I felt very uncomfortable in my body. So I got some tablets and energy drinks like the other days. But it was continuing for two three weeks. Eventually, I got fever too. Some time I sweat all over my body in nights. I felt that my body is not same any more. Finally I stopped by a doctor.
There, I got the shocking news of my life. I was infected by HIV. In a second, I realized everything. But I was too late.
Eventually my body and Soul were decaying. I was abandoned by my music band so easily.. My friends abandoned me. but still I got money to spend. I used to take medicine for every day now. But I knew that... very near future, medicine cannot makes me live further. day by day I reached to my death. Sometimes while I was just sleeping on my bed, I memorized my past. There, I felt "Cathy", as one and only my own angel. She full filled all my life. My inside was filled with her memories...only her memories. She was the one and only thing which is remained in my mind after all.Then I realized what was there in my subconscious. But everything is now gone.
One day, while I was lying on my bed, in the nursing room, I saw my living angel was coming to me. Though I didn’t see her for last 10 years, it was not difficult to recognize her pretty face.
“She is more prettier than before” I thought to myself. here is my life... again...for a second I felt like... good old days. but it lasted only for few seconds....
I’m just a living Skeleton. She came and stand in front of me. I couldn’t stare at her eyes straightly any more. I turned my head down. I felt, my eyes were getting wet, eventually that wet made tear drops and they were spilling over....one by one on my cheeks. Suddenly I felt something run through my hair, in seconds I remembered warm feelings of her hands, on my head, after ten years of time. she was running her fingers through my hair. I couldn’t stay still anymore. I just hold and tight her hands in my hands. There... I felt the wedding ring on her left hand’s ring finger. I screamed and cried a lot. So... her too. There was no more to talk. Silent was so good for me, rather than making sad by talking any more. She left me after few minutes and promised to visit me again, as soon as she can.
When she was leaving I felt that, there is no more strength to live, in my body or soul.
After 13 days of the above incident, one morning, a nurse found George's dead body, on the bed in the nursing room. His diary was found inside his pillow cover.
This was the "love and life" story of “George Stevenson”.
By Manu Fernando
The French Lover
Ever since I started to learn French, I wanted to go for a date with a "French Lover" because people say they are are the best lovers! I also imagined a Date with one of those romantic, passionate & handsome French lovers, floating on a boat in Seine river, looking at the dazzling Eiffel tower at midnight, holding hands. People also say that we should aim the Moon so that we can atleast land among the stars. Here I am, landed in Aix- en provence, 800km away from Paris, without the sight of any river or a tower but just a big fountain in the city. It is all water, that is how someone should be positive in life!
So, we met by accident on a dating site, because he wrote to me in such elegant French words that I had to scroll through Le Petit Robert & verify again in Harraps dictionary for Beginners, to find the real meaning of his message which in simple terms suggested that we might meet for a Dinner Date ! I , myself was elated at the idea because I was already so tired of the many boring profiles of the young French bachelors who asked for the size of the breast & the hips, the colour of the eyes & the salary of the month which discouraged me, at least to talk with them. I told him that I was a feminist ( eventhough it is not a job), ardent follower of Simone de Beauvoir which impressed him without any doubt. He must have thought that I was a powerful woman activist from Asia.
The happy day, arrived. I wokeup rather jumped off from my bed to get ready for the big day ahead of me. I thought I was going to make history on this day. After having read many useful articles on how to get ready for a date because I had never been on a formal "date" in European Style, I chose the best clothes, the best perfume , the best shoes & the best handbag bought at Monoprix eventhough they were all counterfeits. Make up was simple with bit of powder here & there learnt from Youtube tutorials & hair style was less complicated than the French girls because I did not want to scare him away at first sight. I also checked an Indian restaurant in the City centre which has Happy hours and Set menus. I already felt powerful because I was going to pay for his dinner. I wanted to be diffrent & radical even with a French Lover!
Things were pretty good at home with casual fallings & stumbling, breaking glasses & throwing away the horrible clothes which made me forgot the last bus which carries me to the City Centre. Bad omen. I was determinded to walk 2 km even with tight heels which I hardly wear in normal days , just to see this wonderful creature. Meeting at the railway station at 6.30pm. I managed to arrive at 6.45pm just to find out his train was delayed in one hour. Second bad omen. It means there won't be any Happy Hour, but Nervous Hour because I will have to pay the normal price for everything.
While the heart beat accelaretad and the mind was not working properly with the calculations,
He arrived.
I was expecting a man in full black suit with a bow tie like in a romantic movie. Instead I saw a man getting down from the train with a black jacket & denims carrying a back pack! I wished the gurads atleast opened the door for him. He was tall & rigid looking and did not smile at all. I thought it was the first sign of a gentleman behaviour. How do we know the behaviour of French lovers? They never taught us that part in the class.
" Hey girl, How are you ? Nice to meet you then "
Such romantic words, I literally melted!
"Yes, I am doing good, actually really good , Let's go straight for Dinner because I have a strict diet discipline "
Eventhough I eat only sandwiches at night on other days, I kind of pretended that we should eat correct food on correct time while I was thinking if we reach the restaurant by 7.55pm we will still be inside that Happy hour scheme so Drinks would cost less. Five minutes is still Happy hour. But, I need to order quickly to avoid unnecessary lateness which might cut us away from the privileged group.
He was so enthusiastic with tingling eyes, perfect French lover, I said to myself, who followed me dearly. As soon as we arrived at the restaurant , to my greatest surprise or to the horrible shock, we found that it was closed due to an unprecedented situation. I wanted to keep calm, like the Tsunami eventhough I was infuriated. What could possible happen in a restaurant ? Did Indian cook burn his mutton ? Did a French lady scream from pain after eating too much Garam Masala in her dish ? Or , did some one die eating too much from their Thalis. It is the universal stupidity in these Asian restaurants !
" Don't worry , Girl, let me find a good French restaurant around , Isn't it cute you give a French dinner for a French ? "
" Yes, absolutely cute ! " while guessing perfectly what was on my way. I was praying all Gods of Hindu Krishna, Vishnu & Ganesh to make him think of a cheap restaurant in this highly provincial town of Bourgeois where we have to pay atleast 5 euros for a 5ml cup of coffee.
French lovers have a very good taste, I think it was Too elegant. He chose the best. The restaurant Deux Garçon built in 1792 ( I sniffed some French revolution there), which is the most expensive restaurant in the town, reputed for its highly delicate food. Coincidently, it is next to my ice cream shop where I work as a waitress, my part time student job ! My heart beat again accelerated because the waiters at Deux Garcons know me quite well, and if they see me with a guy alll dressed up they would definitely come to say hi. Should I be telling him that I sell ice creams in the neighbour shop ? Is it a good job for a woman? What a turn off for a first date !
So, We sat. The waiter came. ( Thank god, a new waiter)
" Do you need Red roses around you sir ?"
" Please ask Mademoiselle, she is the one who decides"
He seemed to be perfectly respecting women by giving them the chance to decide. Red roses ? Am I going to eat roses ? My tongue was itching to say.
"Yes, please" I said like a lady.
"Candles too Miss ?"
Don't they have electricity in these developed countries ? How can I see what is in my food when there are only candles around me ? Then again, I stopped the bitter words.
"With pleasure" with a sweet smile.
"What is for Hors d'oeuvre, Mademoiselle ? "
Such a big name for a plate of food ! Now these waiters ask so many questions, I don't have a degree in French food science , Get me something to eat for twenty euros for two persons, I just wanted to say.
" Please bring the menu."
There you go, instead of a small leaflet kind of thing, he brought a book , a book of Menu, with long descriptions which needs to be read at leisure during a vacation by the beach.
"I recommend you to order battered snails, I think you would love them." Jean said.
Snails ? My heart sank & my mind ran back to the small snails sliding in the home garden in Sri lanka full of shiny liquid. I have never eventhought of touching them because of their gluy butts. And, now he suggests battered snails ? How can I refuse because I am here to learn their culture & mix with them.
"Oh, cool, I would love to" . I said all approvingly.
If I ever knew that snails had a value I would have started an export business, it is rare women in business though.
Now, I restarted the calculation, how much for one battered snail, it cannot be more than one euro, is it that expensive a snail ? If he eats three snails, and I pretend to eat one snail, it would be four euros for both of us. Mathematical enigmas are indeed a problem.
Instead, the waiter came with a huge plate full of tiny escargots. And Jean absolutely dipped in to it with garlic sauce.
"How tasty they are, I can eat hundreds of them"
"Yes, you are right" said I suppressing the nausea for food & for the hundered Euro note.
"What would you like to drink Sir ?"
"I would go for Redwine, for lady I think White."
When He said white, I also became white because my red blood cells started to cease.
"Which year sir ?"
" Bring us wine from 1900s'"
I sighed gaily.
The French has a thing for old, expired stuff, the more it expires the more it has value, even for food! It is us who never keep anything beyond two days even in a fridge. Now, I will be drinking rotten wine and paying for this expired stuff eventhought he says quality comes from the antique ! Why don't these old women have much value today ?
"You should eat crispy frog legs too, none can ever beat them."
World started to rotate, and frogs went jumping & hopping infront of me. How can I possibly eat that green, slimy frog legs in the name of Love? Am I in the hell with the Devil ?
"Oh later, not now . These days I am on a diet, we should not eat a lot for dinner. You know Ladies !
"Ha ha ha" he laughed.
Yes, Frogs are not hard to find, later , later !
"Then, Why don't you try Foie Gras? Let's order that, because I love to see you enjoying french food.
Foie Gras? I think I have heard this term somewhere. I typed immediately on Google search pretending that I got a SMS.
Apparently, it is a duck liver fattened from over feeding and is one of the most expensive food. Now, I am pretty sure this French man is the disguised Devil directly sent from Hell to pay for my sins up to now !
"Go ahead, let's give a try. I am flexible, you know open to any suggestions. You look so handsome when you pronounce the word Foie Gras. Music to my ears"
Eventhough I wanted to tell him that he looked like a pig who wants to be over fed & while I was feeling exactly the pain of a over-fed duck due to its high price.
"One portion of Foie Gras please" .The waiter approved.
"Why so ? You don't like to try?"
"Oh, no let's share because sharing is caring. We should always practice it from the very beginning."
He even approved, not knowing that it would cut the bill.
Foie gras arrived, I tasted , it was divine to the tongue. Actually, it was divine than the man himself and I cursed myself for not coming to eat Foie Gras all alone , now that I have to share it by half, I gave a disgusted look when I saw him enjoying the rest of the Foie Gras which was supposed to be mine, all to myself !
My tummy was already filled, I thought to move on with the conversation. Because, I did not get to talk about women empowerment and the equal rights project which I have on my mind. As soon as I was about to talk about it, he asked:
"What would you prefer for Entrée ?"
Your head! Words stopped again.
"What is entrée Jean ?" I asked ignorantly.
"Oh , I thought you knew it. After Hors d'ouvre, then comes the main dish ? Let me choose again for you because I understand you don't know these thing very well"
"Of course, choose, the choice is all yours today"
"As you don't know much, let's try Boudin Noir with baked apples."
"What? Boudhha Noir ?" I thought about Black skinned Bouddha. Is he a racist too?
"Oh no, It is a sausage made from blood."
"Great, Bloody sausage !"
I dig in to the bloody sausage as one stabs a knife in to the heart. Blood was in my head too, I was already loosing the appetite and legs were paralysing. While he serenely swallowed what was offered, I started to calculate, numbers could not stay in one place they were flashing in front of the eyes and he was all focussed on his plate.
Again the waiter came, with a plate of salads, I ate the leaves like a cow, rather grazed them while perfectly talking about the benefits of vegetables & leaves on a diet.
Again that black suited man came, with a plate full of Cheese, with green puss on it, they stinked from far like he was bringing a plate of poop directly from the toilet pit.
He did not stop, again he came, this time with tarts, small cakes & ice creams, they all lied ahead of us happily.
The question at the exam papaper came to my mind:
Should women pay for the fist date ? I imagined writing an answer, they should pay from the second date. Atleast , Asian women should start to pay from the second date!
The black dressed Faustus agent came this time with steaming black coffee as if I was not going to digest what was eaten tonight. If he ever knew that I burn more calories thinking than eating. Do brain celles burn calories ?
The plates came & went , he ate, my heart stopped temporarily.
He came with the bill, I saw him from far with my fading eyes, I was almost fainting, and smiling, rather grinning.
312 euros.
Exactly the rent for my room! As if my house owner has told him. I paid, card inserted, took only two seconds.
What do you for living Jean?
"Actually, I am unemployed, living on allocations. I would love to be a househusband oneday. Where shall we sleep now?"
"On the road !" Words splashed out, thinking how the Landlord chase me out from the house for not paying the rent.
"You are a funny feminist. I just love you." He said darlingly.
"You are my perfect French Lover!" I said daringly.
By Jahooli Devi
Snow Princess
I just moved out from my apartment. I really don't know where to go. But I want to kill this night too, like any other nights. My heart is so heavy. I know, it’s filled with of emptiness. It’s almost getting dark around. So, I walk through this side walk around and around so blindly, everyday again and again. I don’t want to stop nearby anything. I see the street lights so blurredly; I thought it’s due to the snow fall. This Snow reminds me a lot about you and me. I used to call you as my “Snow Princess”. You, soft and beautiful like white snow fall. You are the like the snow angel sent from heaven along with magic dust of snow flakes.
I cared for you. I protected you. But I was never able to wake you up from a “kiss”. Other Princes come and give kisses and awake you up. Then again, when you are tired with them you come to me and sleep with me without a fear. Of course…. I protect you no matter what; you can rely on me without any fear. That’s why I am there.
“Once, I remembered, you merely hold my finger and walk with me on a snowy byway. Suddenly you were going to fall because of a slippery tile. And I and hold you, putting my arms around your waist. I may stock to you for seconds, may be more. Really, I couldn’t realize what was happening. You got my hands off so quickly and jumped off, then stared me. I saw that your face began to frown.”
I know you never wanted to think of me. It’s not your fault, I guess. It’s my miserable life.
Still remember just like yesterday, the day you fought and broke up with your previous boy friend Chris (the long hair guy), you came for me and cried the whole day. You hit my shoulders and cried, cried...Until your voice gets hoarseness, you cried. You fall upon me and shed tears until my shirt wet with tears. When you fall upon my shoulders, even I felt your hearts ticking. But I know, you never know that I cried too, each and every time you cry. I wanted to cry like a little boy, to release my pain, always. But I never can do that, in front of you.
Then after four months again, you were felling love with “Marlon” the Tattooed guy. He never cares about you either. But you were fascinating about him. Sometime you didn't give me at least a call for two three weeks and stick to him. I’m really happy though, coz, you are happy. But few months later, again you broke up with him and came to me. I was there for you, as always. So…again… you told lot about you and your dreams. I was not in any dream of you. Even you never remind my name, in your dream, at least as a friend. I realized how miserable I am. But I never wanted to leave you either from your friendship. It’s like though flowers were picked, still tree to blooms flowers. Though you did hurt me so much, I never wanted to leave you.
I never fed up for caring you. You always wanted me as a good friend who cares about you. But always I wanted more than that. I wanted to care about you as my sweet love, I wanted to make you happy in every minute, make you laugh, to take your soul to higher ground . I wanted to see your face every minute; I wanted to hear your voice every minute.
Oh..Gosh…my heart is full of love about you. But how I’m gonna tell you? I know I never gonna tell you. Cos’ you want me as your best friend. Day by day, I was falling love with you so deeply. Day by day I got deeper feelings about you. Coz’ you always brought me the happiness. The courage, the hope to live, but…. not love, never.
I feel a warm feeling on my eye lid. Realized my eyes are filled with tears. I just wipe my eyes with my glove. Then I put my hands in to pocket in the over-coat, and walk again. I pass many people, buildings, vehicles, but I feel them all so unreal. It seems, I came from mars.
It's all like a dream and now it’s a tragedy for me, that dream is over too, but I never will forget the days we spend together. Sometimes I feel you are walking with me and laughing beside me. Then I thought to myself, “What can I change to get you in to my life?” I know it’s impossible. I can’t control anything. Even my own life.
It’s almost 11.00pm. I don’t have any reason to go to my apartment back. I sat on a bench. What I suppose to do now? Again…I remember one time I asked her that…
“I like to see you dress in a “Black color sleeveless mini gown”.
Then she smiled and nodded.
One day, she wore black color mini frock and came to see me with a smile. That was wonderful; she was an angel to me. I felt very lucky to have her nearby me. On that day we went out for a dinner too. And we danced too. That incident really made me happy. Though you always belong to someone else, you made me happy sometime. I always wanted to be with you at anyhow.
Life went so fast, and the day came, that you told me, you gonna marry “Lim”.
I asked “lim”?
“Who is that?”
That’s your new lover…you really loved him, you told me that he is the one for you, and the perfect guy for you. this time you gonna marry him too. So after three days you left me, to marry him.
I merely searched my upper pocket in the overcoat and found your birthday card which sent to me, it says,
“Happy birth day “Liyan”…I’m sending wishes for your 58th birthday with Hugs and kisses!!!”
I know…my heart, and shoulders are there for you, whenever you need them. Coz’ I’m your protector, and the guardian until you find your next lover.
By Manu Fernando.
My Father had a girl friend
Once upon a time, my father had a girl friend who, he loved very much. But they were only very best friends. He always knew that she had another boy to marry. But my father and she were keeping talk with each others as much as they could.
But sometime she was telling, bad things about her fiancé, sometimes she was telling…
“I regret about my fiancé, I feel so sorry about myself, I never should have loved him, but I can’t do anything about this now, it’s too late”.
So...my father just listened to those sad stories and never asked her to give up him, and never asked the reason for not to love him or the reason about the regret. He always stayed calm nearby her, like a glacier. But he was crying in heart every time she talked like that. When they were talking, sometime she used to sing the tune of “To Love Somebody by Bee gees”. And she asked and told my father…
“Don’t you like that song? I like it very much.”
But my father never tried to listen to that song carefully or look at the lyrics of that song on that era. He just listened to that song like any other songs.
Though, things happened like that way, my father never asked from her. It’s because, he knew that her fiancé was rich than him. So he wanted to give better life to her. And my father thought, asking from her, while she was having a fiancé, was not ethical. He didn’t only really love her, but also he had a great respect about her.
When time passed one day she told my father that she is going to marry her fiancé and she cannot talk to my father any more but she wants to keep the true friendship, in her heart forever and asked my father to do so too.
My father never wanted to break up with her. At the same time he didn’t want to hurt her heart too. So he promised her that he never talks to her again, and he also promised to keep the friendship and her memories in his heart forever.
So after around fifteen years of this, he always used to ask from himself, did she ever love him ? And did he do something wrong to her? Those questions were haunting in his mind always.
One day he listened to that song “To love somebody” accidentally on radio. Then he listened, very carefully every word of in that song. Then He cried a lot same as on the day which said good bye to her!!!
P.S: - now my father died. I had to read his almost all dairies to gather this scattered story to put together.
(This emotional story was given by a friend & thought to share it)
By Manu Fernando
15 comments:
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