VAL at last.

VAL at last.

​The day started out rough, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. But I knew I wasnt going to throw myself a pity party and I wouldnt stay indoors moping either. So what would I do?
My question was answered immediately my mischievous friend walked into my room. I smiled because I knew she definitely had something for me. One time I was sitting all alone in my room and then she came in. That day I got free food and drinks and had fun. 

Sooo today Valentine’s day my mischievous friend walks in and she’s smiling widely. I didn’t even ask questions, I just got ready for whatever it was. After few minutes of getting ready and asking if a particular dress was the one, we were on our way to God knows where. 

Oh the journey was an eye opener. I saw someone who was clearly the wrong party argue as if she had done nothing wrong. I also witnessed the sentencing of an old man driving a bus for doing the right thing his own way. Well the story is interesting let me share.
Apparently he called this particular bus stop almost 6 times and nobody answered. Then suddenly as we passed the bus stop, someone started shouting at the driver accusing him of being wicked. The poor old man who probably hadn’t taken breakfast and had in mind the number of times he would take in  passengers to get to his target didn’t listen to this someone and dropped this someone off at another bus stop. This someone still had the effrontery to curse the old man. Well the ride got bumpy and soon enough we were at our destination.

My mind which was partially open became fully open when I saw them. Cute, shy, questioning eyes probably wondering why there were strangers at their Valentine’s day party. Yes, I went with Miss Mischievous and other friends to a school. I’ve always been asked what I miss the most about my childhood. Its definitely my innocence. I saw it again and again in those children. The purity, the clear expressions, they had nothing to hide. As adults tend to hide expressions, it was a relief to see honest expressions again. I had fun. Talking with them, just interacting with them. 

Then, in the midst of incredible talents and excitement, I saw him. The inquisitive eyes, clear as crystal, pretty too with a face that could have only been made by the master himself. I knew immediately I had found an Oliver twist and he wouldn’t stop asking for more. He wanted to know everything. He asked every question askable. I didn’t want to stop listening to his voice. With intelligence past his age and class, he spoke with respect and confidence. He had talent too. Eventually we had to leave and yes I didn’t want to be separated from him. Funny how I started the day without one but I found my VAL at last.
Alas! he was hiding in a school. Thanks to my mischievous and adventurous friend I found him.

Veil at the well(short story)

Veil at the well(short story)

​It seemed like mirrors were her nemesis. She couldn’t bear it. The thought of looking in the mirror was like falling off a cliff. 

Was there a name for it? Phobia of mirrors. She didn’t know but she definitely had it. There was a large, mirror balanced in the middle of the room like it was taunting her and she wouldnt dare pass in front of it.

Why was she so sacred of mirrors? Only her scar could tell the story. Since her accident at the well, she avoided the mirror. She didn’t want to look upon her monstrous face. She was an abomination to herself. What every other person saw was the veil. She couldn’t face the world without it. 

She didn’t know that beauty goes beyond the surface.She didn’t see her perfect, only her flaw. She didn’t know that there’s beauty in everything. 

That warm Saturday evening wasn’t expected.
He wasnt supposed to be stuck in a trap.
The path to the well shouldnt have been blocked.
She wasnt supposed to pass that  unfamiliar route.
She wasn’t supposed to see him. But she did.
She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen him. Her gentle spirit had to help. She talked to him as she helped him out of the trap and washed the blood off his foot. She distracted him from the pain.
He had never heard a voice so soft and melodious. He tried to see her face but it was not to be. After cleaning his foot, she went her way. He tried to follow her but his foot was a weakness. It was like she disappeared from the surface of the earth. He asked around but nobody could help. She was a mystery.

Soon enough he found her, she was at the well, he watched her slowly drop her vase and bring it up with the rope. Such skill and grace made him dumbfounded.

He made his way over and spoke to her, she said her greetings and made for her usual path. He was drawn in with her mysteriousness and he longed to see her face. Everyday at the same time he would go to watch her draw water from the well. He would walk beside her and tell her stories adding jokes to the mix. No reaction would come from her but she never chased him either. 

She didn’t know what to do. This strange man was always following her. She couldnt deny that she liked the stories he told. She couldnt laugh at his jokes either though she smiled from the comfort of her veil. She imagined taking a liking to him but she feared what he would think of her when he saw the scar. She couldn’t let anyone in. 

He could tell she was very beautiful and lovely to look upon but she wouldn’t trust him with what she was hiding. He had asked around and he knew about her accident. He also knew she had a scar which she hid with the veil. He vowed to help her discover her true beauty. He had heard her laugh very softly once but he pretended he hadnt heard. Her laugh was like that of an angel. He was happy to know that she listened to him everyday.

She was beginning to feel it, she knew that she would expose herself to him eventually. She knew she was fascinated with him already.She knew she would trust him with her secret. And she did. One day, she opened her veil and looked into his eyes.

He had never seen someone so beautiful. His jaw dropped and he stared upon her face without blinking. She was scared that she had frightened him and her face fell as she began to walk away. He drew her back and hugged her tightly telling her how beautiful she was. She didn’t know when or how it started but all the unshed tears since her accident poured out as he hugged her.

You can guess what happened after, she had found the one for her. The one would look upon her face every minute despite the scar.In his house, she would look in the mirror all day because he knew she was beautiful and she believed it.

I’m Eighteen.

I’m Eighteen.

​”I will soon be eighteen”, I said to myself again. I must have said that to myself at least a million times. 

Every single time it seemed like I was being bullied by my parents or my older sibling. Even outside my home, whenever someone older did something I didnt like or called me a child. 

I was always quiet at the moment but when I got my pen and paper I exploded, pouring out my feelings and thoughts till I was satisfied. 

As I grew older, I got more outspoken, I started exploring, trying new things.

They told me to take my time and breathe. 

They told me to take my time and dream. 

They told me to take my time and think.

 I was too young to understand what it meant. I couldn’t wait to be eighteen, I’d be an adult. I’d be responsible for myself alone. I wouldn’t need anyone. No one to question my motives or actions. 

The seasons changed so quickly. Almost like time was fulfilling my wishes just to teach me a lesson.

I thought they lied when they said take your time and breathe. Now I wish I could freeze the time at eighteen.

What are friends for?

What are friends for?

Sometimes when i see people post pictures with the tag #friendship goals, I laugh. Then I wonder what they really know about friendship.

Friendship isn’t really as some people see it. Friendship is a type of bond. Sometimes it goes deeper, other times it never gets beyond the surface. When you have a friend, you have a companion, a partner-in-crime, a confidant, a reason to thank God everyday. 

Your friend does this really annoying thing, you talk about it. Sometimes you fight but then you make up. You do this annoying thing, he/she talks about it. Now he/she can’t be perfect, you have to give space for mistakes. After every argument, both of you lose cause ego won’t let you give in. Its all part of friendship. Cherish your friend, love your friend. Its practice for when you find that person you know. You will marry a friend won’t you?   

As unrealistic as it may sound, I know people who don’t have friends. Not even one friend. No one to annoy you when you don’t even know you need it. No one to lift you up after making you doubt yourself. No one to cheer you on. No one to tell secrets and jokes to. A friend will pretend its funny then tell you it wasn’t. That’s just what a friend does. 

Make no mistake there are fake friends or enemies disguised as friends. Some just want information, some want to just take from you, some are tricky; beware of the tricky ones. I’ve had my share of friends and I have to say that I have made some beautiful and wonderful friends. Friends for a lifetime. Make sure to pick your friends carefully, you may not be lucky as I.

I think my mom is an angel.

I think my mom is an angel.

Sometimes I think she’s funny.
Sometimes I think she cares.
Sometimes I think she hates me.
Sometimes I think she’s mean.
Sometimes I think she’s annoying.
Sometimes I think she’s lovely.
But through all that happens I know she loves me.
She’s the one I go to when I’m brought to tears.
She always has a word that lifts my head.
She never does what will hurt me, only what is necessary.
I think my mom is amazing.
I think my mom is an angel.

Guilty pleasures

Guilty pleasures

I know that feeling, its so familiar. Its like deja vu. I can look away, I can pretend not to see it, I can put on an act. But my eyes cannot stray from it. When they do, I bring them right back. Why does this happen every time? Why can’t I stay away? Oh sometimes I do but just a blink, and it gets me again. I beat myself up about it and make resolutions. One minute I’m sober, the next I’m wild with pleasure. Then I want to soak myself in it again. I know it is not good for me. I know the pleasure is for only a moment. I know it always has consequences but I do it anyway. What do I do before it sucks me in and I can’t get out ever again? Can someone tell me?

Jugde Not.

Jugde Not.

The conflict of judgment can never be over emphasized. When you see that young girl getting a ride from the guy with tattoos all over what do you think? When that old man brings in two hot ladies to his apartment what do you think? When that friend of yours comes begging again what do you conclude? Is it really wrong to assume the situation of things from what you can see? Or is it judgment once you give it a name? Judge not so you won’t be judged. I think the place of judgement in our society cannot be shifted. People will always see things, people will always assume things but people won’t always know what the truth is. There will always be judgment. What we can do is help people see what they should despite the judgment.