Wednesday, August 31, 2011

the first man in my life

I've known him for years and years. I know his mannerisms, I know when he's annoyed, when he's happy, when he's excited and what pisses him off. Throughout the years though, he's retained his mysteries. But let me explain a bit about the type of person he is, the amount that I know.

I'm sure he used to be a charmer, back in the day. He still is. The life of the party, the center of attention, everyone's best friend. That's him. Usually the peacemaker, always the one to put people in a merry mood. There's something about him that strangers find comfort in. His easy smile and jovial nature, maybe. That was him, at the top of his game.

Though he's the life of the party, at home he's a much different person. Exemplary of the perfect Gemini. As he crosses the threshold of his home, he sheds the social butterfly exterior and retreats into his mind, into himself to become a quiet, pensive and introspective man. Where outside, he used to crack a joke at a second, now he becomes easily peeved, allowing the weight of the world that rests on his shoulders to finally weigh him down.

Lately, I've begun to read him a little more. The years have started to run him down. He lives for others. He lives for his family, to make sure they're happy. He's gotten dogged down with his priorities that he's stopped looking inside to see what he wants. Now, it's like he's stopped living for himself. He used to live for others, but now those others have had to leave for the time being. And he feels stranded.

I wish you would explore. I wish you'd stretch out the wings of your own potential, because it's still there. The years don't show on your face, but lately they've started to claim a place. Yes, your hair is become white, yes your eyes are wrinkling a little more, and yes, your health is not what it once was. But you're still in there somewhere, the one who used to give me piggy back rides, who used to race me every morning before school started, who taught me how to make omelettes, who bought me my first guitar, who picked me up from my first dance. You were the first man in my life, and you are the one I aspire to be like. And even though we've been at odds with each other for many years, of course I love you - you're my father, after all.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Alright, it's not that some things are gone, it's not like they won't come back. But they're gone for the time being, and I wish they were back. In the meantime, though, I remember.

I remember the time you failingly tried to pick me up, so then I decided I could carry you piggy back style. I took two steps and ended up dumping you on my bed.

I remember the awesome blue cave we made out of my blanket.

I remember flying kisses from the elevator.

I remember awesome coffee and pretty decent french toast and Tangled and you and me.

I remember trying to trip you up, and way too many "oh look what's that? *whack!*" moments.

I remember Bob and Jack and Mugsy and Moot and Sam. I swear, I remember them all.

I remember all the chocolates, and I still have one last sea shell. And the bamboo flower. And that first wine bottle.

I remember how it feels when you come and hug me from behind, and then when we end up doing the funny penguin walk.

I remember Kamal Momos and Sams Cafe and crazy eyes and peacocks at Hauz Khas.

I remember escaping my maid.

I remember when you had to walk around with a pink clip in your hair. Yeah, I know I still owe you for that.

I remember that day at the playground, where we sat and talked about the strangest things.

I remember today, when you kissed my hand through your oxygen mask. Of course I'll still be here, no matter what condition you're in.

Monday, August 1, 2011

wake me up before you go go

There's a new craving. (And craving is said in that weird caveman way) There's many things to say, and a weird emptiness where the words are supposed to be. You know how, when you have to say anything, you can say it better with your eyes closed? It works on blogs too. So, out of the blue this evening, I got this sudden urge to be in a chick flick. Like a proper romantic comedy, with the humouristic drama, puppy dog cute male lead, and sickeningly cheesy yet cute moments. Too much to ask? Is it? IS IT? *glares*

A pit of lethargy is what I have been slumped in. Life was about focusing on peeling the oranges, or cracking nuts one at a time, but now it's like I'm being bombarded in the head with a whole bushel of oranges or crate loads of nuts. Actually it's not that bad. I just realized I was over due for a whine session.

Good day, good sir.