Tuesday, August 10, 2010


The wrenching feeling wafted away on a warm summer zephyr leaving only rustling leaves in its wake. Novelty twinkled at me in lights that brightened my path on a balmy eve. That’s when the finishing touches to a transition from a child to grown up was quickly made, leaving no sense of regret or loss. Instead a fulfilling feeling of well being swelled within me, blotting out other thoughts and emotions. If life’s going to be doled out to me in pieces, I’ve been getting a taste of what’s in store for me in every morsel I bite into with gusto. But expectation doesn’t take the joy out of savouring every bit handed out to me, rationed, like everyone else.
The moon may inspire poets but here I’m grasping for words that float away on wisps of thought uncongealed. Words seem too little a compensation for what every sense is on fire with. Joy is a long winding road with no one in sight, nothing but trees and cultivated land and the breeze that swills my hair about. Sleep and dreams bartered for something equally precious. People, remarks, jokes, comments, discussions and everything the day encompassed is momentarily forgotten as I savour this ‘aliveness’. It’s an incredible feeling, impossible to describe.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

My sister, the pirate

My general evening tranquility was chased away by my younger sister rushing about the house like a mini tornado. Coat after coat was tried on and discarded. My irritation mounted as the pile of discarded clothes grew. Finally exasperated, I bellowed, "What do you want?" Her face broke into a smile, "I thought you’d never ask!" Their Microbiology Department was having a farewell party for their seniors the next day and the theme was pirates. Since she was the compere, she needed to look like a pirate. (all this at 10 o clock in the night) "Why are you collecting boy pirate clothes when you're a girl pirate?" I asked. She looked at me blankly. I knew Jack Sparrow had a cult fan following but someone who could identify microbial cultures and autoclave with their eyes shut couldn't even think of the obvious?!? But that's why I was there -the guiding light, the bordering on insanity 'ad' girl. Some burrowing in our bottomless closet revealed a very 'piratey' white shirt. Since she'd be the first pirate to wear jeans we figured the rest should be a little believable. Then I bundled her in a Jacket and tied a rag round her waist. The eye patch and hook would come tomorrow. A bandana and two oversized pens (her weapons) finished the "look". Sweating profusely under layers of clothing she eyed her 70 plus kilo frame in the mirror and said dismally, "I look fat!" Well Chubbs, you ARE fat. Muttering mutinously at the impracticality of pirate-wear she wondered how they raided anything in all those togs!
Now that her costume was in place, she looked at me beseechingly with her puppy eyes, “I don’t have a script.” I knew it was coming! After yelling at her for a few minutes for effect, I got down to writing it. There’s nothing to pirate talk really. Mostly half eaten words and exclamations like “Shiver me timbers” and sea specific words like “Shark Bait”. Aye! It be easy t’ git on with. I couldn’t understand how such smart kids could come up with a wholly unoriginal name like ‘Crystal Violet’ a rip-off from ‘Black Pearl’ methought. My sister looked at me wondering which ditsy planet I came from. “Crystal Violet is a stain” she said. Oh! My bad! But hey, I’m not the microbiologist! A full dress rehearsal ensued thereafter and “Arrrr!s” were flying left, right and center.
So that’s my sister, a cross between Jack Sparrow, Captain Hook and Elizabeth Swann.