Saturday, September 17, 2016

The girl with snow white hair

I see her at the park everyday.She sits on the bench by the swings and is usually alone. She always has a smile and always has a word for any child whose ball rolls near her feet. She smiles at the parents of the tots with bigger smiles at the grandparents who carry infants around. She smiles.
She has snow white hair. I have never seen her walk. Usually she is seated in the bench by the time I come and is still seated there when I leave. She does not have a phone in her hand. She probably lives in one of the many condos nearby.
I am curious. I let my twins play by themselves. I keep an eye on them and go over to her bench. I start a conversation with her. Her face becomes a map when she smiles, so many wrinkles. So much beauty in her years. She tells me how she moved from Poland when she was a little girl. How she fell in love with an Irish immigrant. How her children moved away from home and found their own lives. She tells me that she would have celebrated her 60th wedding anniversary with her husband if he had not passed away a couple of years ago. Her life has been so fascinating; her views are not disillusioned by passage of time. She still marvels at technology and the joy of life.
Time flies on. My wife takes the twins home and I stay back talking, enjoying her company. It is now dark and the park has very few people. The overhead light emits an orange glow. My stomach grumbles and she hears it. She smiles and asks me to go home. I leave reluctantly.
As I walk, I look back. She takes small steps to the swing. Very gingerly, she settles into the seat. In the dark of the evening, she swings slowly. Like a leaf fluttering in gentle wind. She swings slowly, the girl with snow white hair.

Monday, September 5, 2016


The award function is in a couple of hours. I am all dressed for it. I check with my assistant if she has taken the outfit for the after party. I go stand in front of the mirror. I twirl around. I check the curve of my butt on the mirror and make a mental note-  more squats on Monday. I tug the bodice of the gown a little higher. My make up seems dewy enough without the sweat. I make sure she has all make up touch up kit as well. She tells me it is time to go. I walk back a few paces from the full length mirror give myself a once over and smile. I ask her to take pictures with her mobile and figure out the right angle to pose with one arm on my waist. I also notice the amount of smile just enough to look pleased and happy without looking maniacal. Again one last look and we are off.
We arrive at the red carpet. There is a huge crowd on the sidelines already. I look out of the car. My assistant spritzes some perfume on me before I get down. I tug the bodice of the gown a little lower. I get down and wave. They clamor for me to pose for pictures. I feel wonderful. I have fun with the photographers, giving them impulsive poses and glamorous poses; one of everything. I also notice the crowd wanting a few pictures with me. I ask my assistant to take a few pictures with the crowd with my phone. I stand in front of them untouched with my practiced smile and arm at waist. My assistant then signals me to take pictures with them. Some have their phones out and begin taking pictures with me in the background. Some take selfies with me..I smile for it all. The light is wrong, the angle wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!! Then I pluck a phone out of the many extended, turn around and take a selfie. Then while handing it over I delete the picture. I thank them all and wave goodbye. I feel horrible.
That night, #crosseyedspaniel #whysoserious #supwithhereyes #notimpressed #countherteeth start trending with my face plastered all over it.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Past Present Future

I cry for the life I  had. I cry for the life I have. I cry for the life I will have.
I smile for the people that came. I smile for the people that are. I smile for the people that will come.

I cry for the roads I never took. I cry for the roads I never take. I cry for the roads I will never take.
I smile for the people I have loved. I smile for the people I love. I smile for the people I will love.

I cry for all the things I have said. I cry for all the things I say. I cry for all the things I will say.
I smile for the things I have done. I smile for the things I am doing. I smile for the things I will do.

I cry for all the joys I had. I cry for all the joys I have. I cry for all the joys I will have.
I smile for all the sorrow I had. I smile for all the sorrow I have. I smile for all the sorrow I will have.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Will work for food

The heat. I can feel the asphalt's heat despite my thick soled shoes, which is probably why I am feeling it way too much. I don't have a choice. The nights get cold, real cold. I'd rather brave the heat than the cold. My tongue is parched and my t-shirt sticks to my back.If I could see it, it would be drenched in sweat. I am murmuring to myself holding the placard in my hand. "God bless you. Help a needy soul".
I look at her by my side. She has been with me three years consecutively growing thinner. I can see her bones. She doesn't judge me. She looks good to me, but I like her plumper and well-fed than the starving bare bones look. I reach to touch her when a car pulls up. He drops a dollar. I thank them and smile. I know how I look to him. Broken decaying teeth, shaggy hair, dirty nails with the musty smell I seem to have developed.
I see the golden arches beckoning me. They have a meal for a dollar you know. Should I wait or should I buy a meal now? Another car pulls up, she drops a fiver. She wants to know our names, "Daisy" I point to the one beside me, "Duke", I point to myself. "Daisy Duke", I wink. The names change- they have been Bonnie and Clyde, Sonny and Cher, Marie and Pierre, Romeo and Juliet. Both of them look at each other, with amusement I think.
I walk across to the arches. I order two meals and two cups of water. I bring them out sit in the shade. I hold her  and look deep into her eyes and thank her for being my rock. She wolfs down the burger with the patty and spills the water out of the cup.
I borrow a pen from the girl at the counter and write on the back of the placard. I am not hopeful but you never know. "Will work for food for me and my dog".

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

The Girl Who Knew Too Much

Dear Diary
You are such a treasure box to me. I read through the stuff in you almost once a week and look at the rewards I reap.
When J dropped me yesterday, I simply said "I know" and gave him a sweet smile and today he took me to the mall and got me the cutest pair of Jimmy Choos. I am looking at them now, maybe I should wrangle a nice little dress to go with it as well.
I saw the bus driver kiss the R from the cafeteria behind the gym.R should have been in class but guess she bunked it somehow. I would not have been there if not for the sounds.Boy! It was disgusting to look at. Although I waited for sometime before I let them know I was there. And I smiled that sweet smile. Now they know I KNOW!!
I saw my mom take some pills a few days back. If indeed she is trying to get pregnant with my stepfathers baby she shouldn't be taking those right! I went through her stuff and put the pill box on the drawer. She walked in on me and I smiled at her as well. Lets now see how I don't go on the Eurotrip everyone else is going.
Stepdad was watching some stuff on his laptop he shouldn't have been watching at ALL. Gross alert!! But now he knows I know..I haven't decided what I want yet out of that information but its good to have security! See I was paying attention to the class as well as the stuff that K was writing her about her brother. That is something I can use as well.
I can not wait for the stuff people do! Information is such power..I love it..I love you and I love me! Maybe I should give myself a cool name. How is this?
Yours...The girl who knew too much! XOXO

Thursday, August 27, 2015


Pull a black hair out and you lose that follicle, but pull a grey one out and you get 3 hairs in its place!

Friday, August 21, 2015


There is a private message on my Facebook page. I am curious as to who is sending me a message at this time of the night. It is her. She is not on my friends list, but managed to find me through mutual friends. My profile picture is my high school yearbook picture. That is when I felt at the highest.
I messaged immediately. She was the love of my life. We had four intense years together and after high school it became clear that we were meant for different purposes. I had grand schemes of opening my own business, she wanted a family, a house and a dog. Dead weight.
She wants to know if we can meet for breakfast. She will be passing through the town, our town, now my town. I say yes. She was a stunner back then. I had no way of verifying since her profile picture was some shot of a mountain and sun. I can't sleep. It has been two decades. Does this mean something?
In the morning, I get up and quickly wear my blue jeans and grey t-shirt. The t-shirt is one of many with Captain America's shield on it. I comb whatever is left of my hair and holler to my mom through the door on the way out.
There is a shiny Tesla parked near old trucks. I pull up my bicycle next to it. I walk in and  run out of breath. I see her brunette hair shining in the bleak morning light. I go behind her and say hi. She turns and I run out of breath again. She is still a stunner. She smiles but there is something in her eyes. I think, disappointment maybe. I sit down.
She asks me what I do. What happened to my plans? I still have grand schemes. I just like planning and dreaming better than actual implementation. She is married, no kids. A high paying salary. We hit a lot of awkward pauses. A lot. How are my parents, she asks. I live with my parents still, I say. Awkward pause. I scratch my belly absentmindedly. How long is she staying? She had originally planned on staying the day, but now she is just passing through. We sigh and look out of the diner. My mind is full of memories, the love, the intensity, the cooling. I'm kind of sure she is looking at me but is really seeing me as that teenager. That is when I felt the best.
She hasn't touched her breakfast, but asks for a refill of her mug. I excuse myself to go to the restroom. I look at myself in the mirror and see myself- balding, paunchy, ageing. I was best when I was a teenager.
I come back, the Tesla is gone. The steam in her coffee mug is still rising.