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Sunday, August 17, 2008

Finalle

This is a final episode because I snatched water curtains myself. Why living in a world that I don't belong. At least a dark side was ended the way it was supposed to be. No more water curtains and not anymore.

It was really a dark side. I wish it was only nightmare but I have to admit it wasn't. It was real. It taught me a lot for such a short time and I will never do this again.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Kiss of Death

I guessed it was dark and lonely in the coffin.  I forced my eyes closed in the dark.  It felt so empty and it was cold.  The blanket covered me from feet to chin and let the moving air touch my nose.  I could see myself collapse right in front of my face.  There was nobody around.  I had to pull my soulless body up.  I was dead in a sudden.  How and why I could not know.  I didn’t remember how I wrapped my body in white clothe like how normal dead body was done somewhere.  I pulled my body in my car and drove to the funeral place myself.
I didn’t know where it was exactly but it was surely somewhere in the heart of Bangkok.  It seemed to be a place near Thailand Bible Society but I didn’t have a clue why I went there.  The place was so crowded.  It was neither a Buddhist temple nor a church.  It was just a place for funeral.  I stepped out from my car and walked to the place where they accepted dead bodies.  The carts where dead bodies lied down were full.  They looked at me and told me to wait for a while.  They were busy.  I throttled around to see what they did over there.  Many bodies were queuing for funeral.  I didn’t see any presence of a monk or a pastor.  There were just mere busy people trying to get the funeral done.  It seemed a while before they were available to accept my body.
I dragged my body out from my car and they gave me a small gold-painted coffin.  The coffin was as small as my body.  The lid was more like a Egyptian mummy coffin’s.  I held my body to the coffin and placed the gold-painted lid to cover.  I could smell my body.  I was a few days since I died.  The body was getting rotten.  There was definitely no one at all but me and my dead body.  I looked at a group of people.  They were relatives of a dead girl being held for funeral.  I offered them to pay for tiffins for several days.  A caretaker threw something like fireworks in my coffin.  They wanted to cremate me now.  “No, this is not the time.” I said.  “No one in my family knew that I was dead.  This has been a few days already but we have to wait for one more day.”  They listened to me at least.  But the funeral never happened.
The alarm clock woke me up.  It was early in the morning that I had to go to work.  I hardly opened my eyes.  I wanted to know what would happen next.  I would not have an opportunity to know.  I believed it was absolutely by God’s will.  It must have been something on my mind that I had to struggle to survive taking care of myself even when I was dead and helpless.
I needed to move on.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Two become one?

Love is a marvelous thing.  I respect what love gives for life in that without it, life is just a mere living cell.  I will never underestimate what love can do.  It pushes you afar for what you can never imagine you could live through.  However, I did what was appropriate for what my blind eyes could possibly see.  It didn’t help as one could imagine.  Without enough love and strong bonding, you could scarify nothing more than what you allocate until you hit your buffer bottom line.  And that’s it.
Marriage deals with more than love and relationship.  What about legal bonding in financial issues now and forever which are essentially what we have to struggle to make enough for a living and also saving for the future.  The level of trust you have to commit on the other person in your life has to be enough to take risk together.  This is beyond my imagination.  May be it is because what I have lived through all these lonely years has taught me enough of how to live by myself, and also my saving that is just only for me.  When there is another person, it becomes an excessive element.  Something that is very difficult to cope with because what I have been prepared was never enough for an additional life to share.  Sound selfish, right?
For a woman like me, sharing a life with another person, of course, there is a trade-off.  I will have to accept that.  Nothing comes free.  Having another person in life is expected to have a better whole than a sum of two people.  It sounds over expectation?  A woman expects a man to stabilize her life with maximum benefit.  A man, I suppose, expects a woman to balance out his imperfection at minimum cost.  Are these aspects agreed?  What are we dealing with seems senseless.  
At least mentally support is expected by a woman.  But again, excuse me, a mere lips service would NOT help.  Acting as if I am the luckiest woman in the world is clueless and insensible.  The comfort level of being with another person on what we have to share must be enough to push thing forward or stay backward sometimes.  I doubt if I had that much.  Problems are multiplied when there is money issue.  Small things are magnified because we don’t have many choices.
I got married late and of course my husband was married before with a kid he has to be fully responsible for.  It is very understandable that his priority as a father is his baby now that he cannot do well on the role of a husband when there are many problems arisen at the same time.  Where is the bonding to push us through this difficult time?  People are selfish and it shows and is magnified when there is problem. How can we pass the test of time and problems?  The problems are too early before enough bonding evolves. 
Compatibility or complimentary counts here?
All I can see in the future is problem and I miss my life when I was single.
Where is love?
I still believe in God even though this seems to be a punishment or a blessing in chaos disguise.   What tomorrow brings I will never know.  What I realize now is that marriage does not bring along stability and I can’t even out anyone’s imperfection with the least cost because I am not cheap.  I am not able to bare any extra responsibility in this kind of situation when I have to work day in day out while doing my Ph.D.  I am not for a life like that. And excuse me when I say “dancing is better than sex”.  Sorry!

Saturday, May 31, 2008

And The Music Takes Me There

A flick of his sparkling eyes made me chilled from head to toes. Lombardo, as always, struck a post before his dance. A turn of his face to his profile made a transient glance lasting for the rest of tunes and flipped my mind to bliss out. He reached his arms towards front yearning to touch an invisible imaginary girl who was someone every single heart would kill for. He made a turn on the tip of his toes and tapped a pause gracefully, teasing a charming smile to many girls all at once stunned. He moved to the side, left and right, his arms alternately swung with his hands opened as if he was flying to the sky. I saw his body move and only I can hear my heart made unusual beats to his steps of dances. It was only a reach away that seemed so far. It was something resemble to a glass shield that made me stay afar. I only thought there would be my day but it never happened. Lombardo only stood there and I was here looking at him from the far distance sighing to myself to infinity. The music started playing and I saw him dance again. As he moved closer, I could not help myself shaking to an absence of his notice. Even so I could not see something else and I had to stare at his every move until he was away from my sight. Silently and secretly, I took myself as his imaginary girl dancing to the rhythm of divine the night through spinning around the floor and took a chance of endearing mystical movements.

Could I have this dance, Lombardo?

................................

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Evening of Twilight


At the pool once again. Now alone. My husband was wandering somewhere inside the building, perhaps, leaving his French fish soup cold and crumpled. The sun was beautifully setting as always in the heart of the city of Bangkok. The soft light breeze was blowing nicely but sadly in the evening of the last Monday of March 2008. The jazz music was on while the half naked men were having relaxing time of their own. No girl. And that may be the reason for relaxing. Yellow beams were turning on as the sun light slowly left the earth. The sky was getting gray as the city light was brighter. Night creatures were awake and started flapping their wings behind the trees.

Away from the city, in a busy corner of the town, it was my house standing there for more than 40 years. I have never known I can never leave the place where my mum was.

I was dreaming of a horizon-end grass field in the wild. I walked on the green green grass with my beautiful oriental glittering shoes made of leather, embroidered nicely and neatly with bright colors flower motives. My sari was vivid fuchsia woven tightly with bright yellow and cyan blue. Thousands of tiny silver and gold dots made up hypnotizing Ghat Chola. Flamboyant ivy was laced curvy on the rims and encircled with star embellishments. Glittery gold was twined with blue topaz, bright red ruby, and star cobalt sapphire around my forehead and sweetly curved under hair to hang from top of my ears to shoulders. Extravaganza gleamed with precious gemstones, golden shimmer hung around my neck from end to end. I was high. My body was light and my feet barely touched the ground. It was getting dark and I was running back to the edge of nowhere. Tabala was rumbled at the distance. It was time to dance.

The oil-lit lamps were all over the place as drums and folk strings kept on the beat. In the middle of the largest tent, a yellow plane was encircled with scented candles twinkling like a flock of night flyfires in heaven. It was a heaven on earth. Fully-adorned with traditional garments, men sat down on flawless Persian carpets enjoying aromatic tobacco and staring at endless ritual and sanctuary dances of feather-whizzed in the performer’s bodies.

In remembrance of my all time favorite dance master, Uday, whose brunette complexion could glow beyond the hyper rainbow and was one of the greatest combinations of god-created men alive. His smile could un-blind ones who lost their sight and his sparkling eyes could light up the deepest and darkest corner of the earth. Shadows of his moves shone brightly over the flattering girls in vibrant silks from Rajasthan. Tinkling of bangles and anklets made a sound of extreme joy at night as they turned round and round. It was in my dream where reality could not reach.

The dream was never faded. It has been kept in my heart when I was awake. My husband came back and started picking up his cell phone again. My dream box was securely locked and kept aside. Time for duty.