The Dealer’s son

Early morning post. Good morning people!

The dealer hid his face from his customers. Money flew into him like he could attract it from anywhere in the world. Next in line was his son holding out all his savings… The dealer slapped his son hard on his face. The boy never returned for drugs and the father took money from anyone and anything besides the boy who once thought his father’s way was the right way.


You like people who speak, don’t you?

I was never heard… not in my sense, but in the literal sense. I know someone who can’t hear his own voice, who doesn’t know if I can hear him speak. He looks at me and I nod my head and smile at him so that he knows I got what he said. I can only imagine the pain he must feel when he knows that everything he says or hears is just nothing. Just nothing.

You like people who speak, don’t you? You like the way the corners of their lips twitch, the snide remarks they make to you. You like the sound of his voice, the way she snickers when she just cracked a joke. You like the shaky voice of the little boy standing in front of his classmates and the way he sounds when he tries to say something he isn’t entirely sure of. You like that other boy, don’t you? The way he listens to you speak, the way he stops by every single time he sees you just to say hello. He surely likes you too and you know it, but the way your cheeks blush when he waves at you from across the playground tells me that you still like to think he’s some stranger that you just met. Look at her… she seems deep in conversation with that boy next to him. They’re laughing and they seem to enjoy whatever it is that they are speaking of. I wonder what they’re speaking about. Those girls a little further away with sad faces and ice-creams in hand must be relating stories. That’s when it strikes me… will they ever hear my stories, will I ever? What does my voice sound like, how will I react if I was the one speaking on stage at that Math assembly at school. Would it be very different to have friends of my own, instead of watching others? Would there be people who would listen to me speak, would they laugh at my jokes and pat my shoulder if they knew what I had just gone through? Some of you people actually look like you care, but admit it… you like people who speak, don’t you?

Surprised Again

Surprises. Little surprises but great ones. They leave me breathless every single time. I stood there trying to make sense of what I had just heard – how could a sntence so simply worded mean so much to me? Those words sure must have taken a lot of effort to be pronounced but as they reached my ears they filtered in, ran through my veins and seeped in to every nerve and muscle. It was all over me… the shock, the feeling of having everything in the world put together. I wanted to scream Thank You and really tell how I felt about it, but that was inappropriate. I acted wisely and just said Ok and nodded… To all those people in the world who surprise me in those little ways, here’s to you 🙂

The Observer

The Observer. She was the Observer.

She leaned her left cheek against the cold window allowing the city lights to shine through the rain drops and blur her sight. She wasn’t focusing on the details but everything played back in her head like an old film… the colours spun around. Stories of the lives she’s come to cross paths with and faces played on, some stopping by for more than a few seconds. She didn’t seem to notice the other person in the room watching the tears stream down her tired cheeks. The glass on the window was now smoggy from her warm breath. The other person coughed to show her presence… no answer. Worried now, she walked closer to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. There was no reaction… no shock, no surprise, no need to wipe away the tears.
“Tell me…” She said.
The other sighed deeply. She had, after all, known that she wasn’t the only person in the room. “What if?”
“What if what?”
“What if I … What if I… was the Observer?” She asked, keeping her voice consistent through the sobs. She turned around to look at her friend’s expression.
The friend smiled. A smile to say she appreciated the fact that she was speaking to her but not so much that she would be offended. “What if I told you I was human? Would you stop being my friend?”
She laughed lightly, pulling her head away from the window… “But you are human.”
“Exactly my point! Being who you are doesn’t change a thing. You are the observer… so what? I’m human… so what?” She used the special tone she always used when she spoke to her friend.
“But, what if -…!” She protested. She wanted to let go of her friend but held a little too tight onto her.
“No one knows better than The Observer… ask The Observer and tell me what she thinks,” she teased but said it without a snicker or a laugh.
“A coffee would be nice. ”
The friends left off for a hot coffee in the rain, raincoats masking their identities. She was an observer.

We lived the moment

A post built from the LSGMH’s memories 😉 That’s to anyone who remembers the ‘past’.

It’s funny how we make friends and how we trust people we swore not to. It’s funny how we cry about the moments we spent laughing our heads off and it’s funny how we are now embarrassed about the times we thought we were all so confident.
When you first speak to a person about the upcoming exam, sitting on a muddy log, you don’t expect to tell them only seconds later about a story no one’s ever heard about before. That’s how fast we change.
When you first walk into a class and scare a girl by saying “Excuse-me”, you don’t expect her to be be teasing you two days later. That’s how fast we grow close to people.
When you write in your diary about how you’ve never known they could be so evil, you don’t expect to look back at that very diary entry three years later and laugh at the conclusions you came to. That’s how fast we trust the people we promised not to.
When you hang around with the ones you love the most, all you know is that you’re happy with them next to you. You don’t take a step back wonder if these very memories will one day make you cry. That’s how memories confuse us.
When you think you’re confident and get all busy about ‘solving THE problem’, you don’t hesitate. When a friend a few meters away from you tells you that you need to get the Class Record Book, you think it’s the most brilliant code ever used. These things you did confidently are the ones you now are embarrassed to talk about. That’s how stupid we’ve been.
We changed fast, we grew close to people: new and old, we looked back at things and laughed about it, we loved the past, looked into the bleak future, used code names even when we had absolutely no reason to, we had hideouts and ran away from team evil. Most of all and most importantly… we lived the moment.

How true is truth?

Just the way ‘Death Eaters’ become your best friends, would best friends become ‘Death Eaters’ too?

I looked around. Maybe I was right all along, maybe she was the one who was wrong after all. I have argued with myself, got into quarrels, ended up in tears and still accepted the wrong definition as the right one. Maybe it’s time I decide that I’m not always wrong. This could be the right thing for just once. Around me were faces masking betrayal. You’ve been there too, admit it. You’ve looked at a person and thought that they were all you would ever need… only to find out a little too late that you were terribly wrong. Why, then, do we still repeat the same thing? We trust another person because the last one wasn’t good enough. All we really do is double the damage. Why is it that we never want to accept it… maybe he was right when he said we don’t like to accept the truth. Because the truth’s too bitter, we can’t deal with it. We would rather live through the pain all over again than to learn from them. My favorite song says, “Old flames can’t hold a candle to you…” and I like it for a particular reason. But… how will I ever know if the candle would soon be an old flame too?

A special Birthday wish for a friend – and the photo of ‘Super 19’ I promissed to share

For her love of aeroplanes…

It was my friend’s birthday today and I couldn’t think of anything better than a home-made little aeroplane for her. She loves aeroplanes so much. It took me three days to complete it and all the way through I was dying to see her reaction to it. I told her I had something to show her but I never told what it was. So today was her birthday and this is what happened:

Last night I was texting two of my friends simultaneously. One of them was the birthday girl (N) herself, the other was our friend (A) who I knew I should team up with if we were to surprise her. They were both in the same bus returning home from an athletic meet but neither one of them knew I was texting the other so I decided to have a little fun with them.

message to me from  N: “Kill me if you can”
So I asked A to walk to N and say “Kill me if you can”
Apparently, N had got confused about how she was saying exactly what she had told me.

message to N from me: “Go to ‘A’ and ask her who she’s texting as if you suspect it’s her boyfriend.”N had done as I said and to this A had told the name of a guy in our class. The person she was actually texting was me, and the content was… of course, N’s Birthday surprise!

I went to bed at 10:30 pm like I always do and my plan was to wake up the moment my parents left my room and grab my phone just so that I can wish my friend a Happy Birthday at midnight. Unfortunately, I fell asleep even before my parents left my room. In the middle of the night I woke up, remembering that there was a birthday girl I had to wish. My eyes first went to the clock and I realised the time was 11:45 pm – that was fifteen minutes before midnight. I soon grabbed my phone and found that it wasn’t 11:45, but 12:45 instead. Now it seems like a faint dream but I remember slightly saying something like “How could I have?!” to myself. I quickly typed in a birthday wish, making many mistakes while doing so but correcting them afterwards and sent it to her. I fell asleep immediately.

In the morning today, before going to school, I called N just to make sure she was coming to school so that I wouldn’t have to take the ‘aeroplane’ to school in vain. My father helped me with the extras, my mother came as a genius with the name ‘Super 19’ and the colours. With it packed in a box I set off to school.

In the first period I caught a glimpse of A and N outside our psychology class and since then I was impatient to give her my surprise. After Biology, when I ran as fast as I could to class, on the way there were A, the guy she had claimed to have been texting instead of me, and a few other girls from my class were standing in a corner with a cake with them. I ran to them and helped them stick two candles into the surprise birthday cake that A, the other guy, and of course guy B had got for their dear friend N. I told them I’d go to class and make sure N doesn’t come out.

So, to class I went and gave her my surprise. As she opened the box she caught a small peek at the wing of the plane and her face instantly split into a broad smile as she said, “DID YOU MAKE AN AE-.” Before she finished her sentence she opened the box completely and took my little plane in her hand. She smiled and I could tell you she was happy. She said she really liked it and that made my day. I was so happy.

When she was almost done looking it, from outside the class came a box with nineteen candles lit up in the hands of A. N was surprised and said, “YOU- What did you-“. A simply ignored her comments and left the cake on her table. We all sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and let her blow off the candles (which she almost forgot in shock). We clapped her birthday away and shared the cake. And of course it was followed by a session of jamming icing onto each others’ face, which I gladly was not a part of.

I don’t know about her, but I sure did enjoy her birthday. It was a real pleasure being able to watch my friend smile on her birthday. It is always nice to watch a person’s smile when in surprise. Happy birthday to her, and to anyone else who’s sharing their birthday with a person as wonderful as her!


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