Thursday, February 28, 2008

She's The One

She takes the broom
and does her duty
sweeping off the the dust and dirt.
Everyday without fail
she gathers the filth of others
and work her way from floor to floor,
door to door to make sure
their dirty shoes are stepping
on the pristine ground.
With little or no education
she feels this is all
she is cut out to be,
all she is good for.
She flushes the toilets
other people mess up
and she scrubs the excreta
they leave behind.
Sometimes, someone greets her,
sometimes no one know
she's there.
Everyone assumes she's there
to keep it all in order
so they could soil them again
without being responsible
so they could spend more time
making sense of something
they are paid to do.
But she is someone's daughter,
she is someone's sister,
she is someone's mother,
yet most times,
she is treated like a stranger
who is expected
to be the simple woman
that she is.

Women's Right

It's not giving in to women because they are the weaker sex but its about standing by them because it's about time someone did.

Monday, February 18, 2008

The hotel room with no windows

I stayed in a hotel room with no windows recently. At first I didn't mind the claustrophobic imprisonment because I arrived at that place close to midnight. But when morning came, without any clue of time, except for the crowd outside the room making a hullabaloo about something I decided to check the time on the handphone. It was past eighty thirty and I usually never get up this late. Since the room was dark I had to switch on the lights to find my way around. Feeling a little disoriented I stayed in bed looking at every corner of the room and wondered how awful it is to stay in a hotel room with no windows. It felt as though I was in solitary confinement. Perhaps staying a night was bearable, or maybe even up to three days. But more than that I wouldn't like to experience it if I could help it.

I always felt that a window, no matter how small or bad the view is better than none at all. When I recall the movies and documentaries I watched where prisoners spend weeks and months in this form of incarceration without even a hint of sunlight it was harrowing to imagine what it was like for them. How can that idea of penalty even be considered appropriate? It's inhuman and down right barbaric. Sadly, it's still being practised today in some parts of the world.

If It Was

If life was any drearier
I'd never go to sleep,
if love was any sweeter
I'd never again weep.

If friendship could go on forever
I'd never have to trip,
If death is but a stranger
there is nothing I would keep.

Spice Of My Life

Cardamon is my lover,
paprika is my friend,
red chilli burns my soul,
I am a woman in need of a man.

I dream of cumin in my hair,
he comes to add star anise in my ears.
I fall into a pit of cinammon
and roll with him in ginger and lemon.

We cool in the showers of mustard seeds,
and embrace as the cloves drizzle on our heads.
The taste of mint leaves in our mouths
and the kiss of honey lays us down to bed.

My skin is swathed with olive oil,
tumeric powder and peppercorns.
My flesh is marinaded by his aroma,
as we embrace in the love of saffron.

Nutmeg is my admirer,
fennel seed is my fan,
cayenne makes me whole
You make me what I am.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Holes

You're like a hole in my head
when you talk too much,
and a hole in my heart
when you suddenly clamp up.
Once in a while you can be such an asshole,
and other times you make me feel like an ace in the hole.
We're as corny as a keyhole and the key,
and as horny when you're trying to unlock me.
We can argue ourselves into a sinkhole in the ground.
It doesn't matter who's digging
I just hate that awful sound.
We could be a square peg in a round hole,
on days when we get tired to have and to hold.
But on the lazy wintry nights
when there's nothing better to do,
I like to cuddle up and hole up with you.
Our relationship is so full of holes,
everything we say or do slips away
faster than we can imagine.
But our unusual hole in the wall home
is made up of all these apertures, perforations,
crannies, punctures, cracks and peepholes
and that's what makes it all so grand,
so good and wonderfully new yet old.

Rejecting the Rejected

For all those who are rejected,
I salute you and say:
welcome to this world of ours
if you do succeed today.
If you have been out on your own,
to be kicked and pushed till you want to give up.
Here's to you my jaded friend,
three cheers to you for standing up.
If you have been rejected for who you are,
if you have been ignored for the color of your skin
if you have been overlooked for your size
I salute you especially when you cry.
You know how it's like
and you've been there
to get rejected for not fitting in
with the rest of the us who are already there.

Playwrighting For The Blind

I say not a note of caution
but the pit stop's always at the station.
There are no buses or trains,
motorcars or planes.
There are only people
with loquacious ability,
I close my eyes
to save my energy.
I am what I said
I don't need another empty plate.
The room is artificially lit
the floor is boarded up.
My mind can just be as quick
I don't know where to start.
What do you want to write about?
Something that disturbs you,
concerns you, troubles you
just identify it and make it real.
Fleshing out characters,
giving them stupid names,
if you can do all that
you're considered a writer who knows no pain.
Ideas are a bunch of posies
go on to wine and dine.
Set up the stage and go unrehearsed
you're, after all, playwrighting for the blind.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Birds In My Backyard, Wildlife Everywhere

There are birds in my backyard. From sparrows to mynas, magpie robins, pigeons, doves, drongos, orioles, the occasional kingfisher, hornbill, the unseen nightjar that clucks away when it's dark as though to announce the arrival of the bats.

From the front side I can see in the distance the brahminy kite encircling its territory looking to feed, swifts and swallows doing their death defying plunges, and the gibbons howling in the early hours. The crows too join the open menagerie where all living things are free and unrestrained.

And a little walk towards the lakes are also flocked with bitterns, herons, jacanas, sandpipers, owls, egrets, plovers, monitor lizards, tortoises, fishes, leaf monkeys, pig-tail and long tail macaques. Not to mention the unseen world of dragon fly larva, whirligig beetles, waterboatmen, pond skaters and lots of tadpoles.

And that’s just a fraction of what Taiping is.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

When you are ready...

When you are through blaming the past
then perhaps it’s time to look into the future.

When you are through with you barrage of distractions
perhaps you’ll have time to concentrate on your vision.

When you are through with your loquacious workout
perhaps you’ll hear your natural voice.

When you are through with your forced-fed ignorance
perhaps you’ll understand your fellow beings.

When you are through of being so easily influenced
perhaps you’ll see yourself as a leader.

When you are through creating your loneliness
perhaps you’ll know you’re not alone.

When you are through with your disbelief
perhaps you’ll find the truth within you.

When you are through with all your lame excuses
perhaps it’s finally time to be your true self.

What's in a New Year?

There's blues,
there's various hues,
there's tears
and some fears.
Sometimes a bit of flare,
sometimes a little less to share.
Occasionally quiet,
frequently noisy,
and it makes one so tired
or lost and dreamy.
Every year
the same,
every year,
it drains,
or grows
or slows
or slips
or creeps.