Speaking of Things

A Bottle Of Water

He is in denial, but I know how much he needs me.

We weren’t always like this. We used to be close. We went together everywhere. He couldn’t go an hour without touching his lips to mine… Until Miss Hooch came in his life. And he began to forget about me. More and more.

On weekdays, he slogs at work all day and eats junk with her every evening. On weekends, he prances around the town with her. The obsession is such, nowadays, days go by before he even thinks of me.

He still needs me. More than he thinks he does. More than he knows.

Those excruciating new headaches, those cramps in his calves, that taut skin on his hands, his hair that scratch his face like bristles, the mysterious pain in his gut… Do you think that’s by accident? No sir, that’s her presence and my absence in his life. 

The truth is he misses me. His insides miss me. Terribly. And they will tear at him sooner or later. Unless…

Unless he came back and held me to his lips once again. 

And yes, I can learn to co-exist with his new friend. He will just have to give me back my place in his life too. Only then can his pain begin to wash away…

-A bottle of water.

Blue Moon Stories


Every once in a while
A song floats across the border
A mesmerizing, poignant one
And almost threatens to destroy the order.

Almost. Because the border is strong.
Bolstered regularly to last long
Sometimes with lies
And sometimes with death warrants raining from the skies.

The song is a mere song
A melody and some words…
How could it ever hold
Against a wall so old?

But it just might.
Because this time a longing, it ignites.
A longing that rises above the awful din.
A longing to be one with one’s kin.


If I Am About To Go

If I am about to go,
Play me my favourite song,
Cook me my mother’s food,
Remind me of the smell of earth when it rains,
Bring me the book that made me cry,
Show me the sunbird that once sat at my window,
Make me giggle endlessly with my sister,
Make that toddler hold my little finger and walk again,
Show me the tree that had once been a seed in my hand,
Show me the eyes of my puppy,
Look into my eyes and smile your loving smile,
Tell me a bad joke and laugh,
Tell me a good story and cry,
Or just hold me.
And I may come back.