Cat in the Rain

I wrote a continuation from Hemingway's piece. I know he would be proud of me:)

..Some one knocked at the door.

"Avanti," Geroge said. He looked up from his book. In the doorway stood the mad. She held a big tortoise-shell cat pressed against her and swung down against her body.

"Excuse me," she said. "The padrone asked me to bring this for the Signore."

"But this is mot the one, I want that tiny kitty under the table," she said to the maid. "You don't understand, its important that I save her from the rain."

"Can't you just accept it dear, what difference does it makes?" George is still glued to his book. The cat is now the maid's arm. "I'm sorry girl, give her back to the padrone."

Outside, the storm is getting angrier. The American lady sat at the balcony, letting the rain showered her, her eyes chasing signs of the cat. The padrone is watching her from the palm trees. George with his obsession, the maid occupies herself with umbrellas. She lets the rain soaks her, her soul reaching out for the kitten. Her eyes closed, arms crossed, head up, excessively enjoying the rough drips, lips slightly parted, slowly waiting for the kitty to come closer...

Moving Furnitures

My lecturer assigned us to write about moving furniture in our house or office. So, here I come..



I picked up a bandeau under my closet. It’s been more than 40 years since I last saw that piece.

We were close friends. We designed thousands of luxurious evening gowns for celebrities around the globe.

We were in the middle of our glorious days when a nun came asking us to design a habit for her. You immediately refuse, as it will portray a good relationship with the Christians. You said your creations are about making women feel sexy and appealing, about gorgeous glittering diamonds with sling backs and shocking colors. Designing habits would mean doomed reputation.

Gianni Versace, I have no choice but to cast you. You breached our MoU. We agreed to service every single woman in this country, as it is her birthright to dress beautifully. A habit is still a gown. I don’t talk much let alone arguing. You know me. Shooting is my favorite outlet. The burst of the bullet feels like everything falls into place. That is the only way how I pour my heart out.

So my friend, I had chosen one fine July morning during summer 1997 to gun you down. I shall wait for you to return from your customary walk on Ocean Drive, outside your ocean-front mansion in Miami Beach, Florida. After that, I shall take my own life after writing these lines by Shakespeare.

Blessed be the man that spares this stones
And cursed be he that move my bones
(Shakespeare)


*A bandeau is a headband. In this story, I am referring to the bandeau worn by the nuns.

Autobiography of a Plastic Bag

Been spring cleaning and found some of my old class works. This was when my lecturer wanted us to write and autobiography of some one or something. I decided to write about a plastic bag as i am shocked at the number of plastic bags given out to shoppers, without a single thinking on how to save it. I believe in my efforts to save the environment, no matter how tiny it is.

THROUGH IGNORANCE WE SURVIVE

She is made of polyethylene. When humans produce her, the air is polluted and more energy is being consumed. Four to five trillion of her was manufactured each year. She chokes landfills and marine animals. Yearly, she killed hundreds and thousands of marine animals. They died painfully after she wrap herself around their intestines or choke them to death. Winds obediently carry her to the streets, parks, forest, lakes, ponds, sea, rivers and mountains. Stupid Americans throw away 100 billions of her every year. Seabirds are also known to swallow her and also buoys after confusing them with sea eggs or crustaceans, leading to fatal consequences.

Strangely, humans still choose her, may be because she is functional, lightweight, strong and hygienic way to transport almost every single thing on earth. She fills the world’s oceans by six million tonnes every year. In every square mile of ocean it is estimated that there are over 46,000 pieces of her. She originates from both land and marine activities. Of all the marine debris washed, dumped or blown into the ocean, more than half is her.

See how powerful this lady is? Of course, life takes works. She have worked hard to place herself in this situation. She feels good about herself and the part she plays in the connectedness of all living things. She has done all the work to take charge in human’s lives.

We are united to help one another on our journey of evolution to be the best things we can be. The nature of female is to fight back and by doing so, we take what life gives us and find ways to make it our opportunity. We have fought every accomplishment, every relationship of meaning and we have not let obstacles, big or small keep us down. We wake up each day, grateful to be used, alive, grateful to be a plastic bag, thankful for the privilidge of being a plastic bag.

November Babies

A few of my colleagues were born in November. Today, 26 November 2008 is my cousin's birthday. I guess she was born in 1984 (hope this is correct!). Happy birthday to all November babies. May Allah bless you all.

Turning Point 01- Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri

My lecturer mentioned about this author in Literary Theory class. Sandra is flying to Delhi so Lahiri's were among mentioned my tiny wish list. Didn't bother to read it until one day, in class, the lecturer wanted us to discuss A Temporary Matter, the very first short story in the book. I had to share mine with two others, of course it was not a really focused reading because we were not even told to buy a copy. We discussed on it the next week but I paid little attention to it. It came out in the Quiz but it was easy. I did read Interpreter of Maladies, however, did not analyse it in depth. That was it.
Last week I decided to read a story. After reading Sexy, I was dumb founded. I was struck by her mildness but it was really a big hit when the Rohin said "(sexy)It means loving someone you don't know." I felt the storm had suddenly pinned me to earth. I can feel it all over me. "Sexy" really hit me with her subtle words.
I finally (initially) decided to do Lahiri for my project paper. I have yet to narrow down my topic. Got to find The Namesake in KLCC. Till then, Lahiri keeps haunting me.

sun shys away

it's been a long time since i last enjoyed the water and the sun..sun sets always seduces me..