Friday, 4 December 2009
there is some whisper in the air, some song in the winds, someone pulling in a direction but my feet...the water rushes from the sides of my feet, from between my toes, from above them, touching upto my ankles. just like time i think to myself... like a dream. one minute it is long and endless but as soon as you open your eyes there are just a few blurry images, colours spread in the air but nothing that you could touch.
the beautiful, subtle veils of afterglow reveal a darker sky and the growing twilight cast a shadow on the glittering bed of sea. while i just stand there like a stubborn child, feet grounded deep into the shores, in a futile attempt to stop the bold waves from crashing against my numbness.
i wish for time to slow down a bit, my tired feet cannot seem to keep up with the moments rushing by...there are thoughts clogging up the insides of my brain. there are some thoughts that need to be penned down, some words to be said, some tasks to be done, some moments to be enjoyed, some time to freeze for a while. theres simply a desire to sit by the window and stare out at the view.
i m but a fool
who walk past me
i let go
of the afterglow
Saturday, 7 November 2009
i wrote down 'happy'.
they told me i didnt understand the assignment and
i told them they didnt understand life."
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
All the benches are wet with groups of dew drops attending a dew convention to debate for an extension in their life span. They banter and chatter oblivious to the sun shining through the chinks in the trees lined adjacent to the benches. The convention would soon come to an unexpected end. Just like that...
Before the sun can see the dew, I walk up to the fading green benches and choose the driest part of the wood to sit on, some could live to see the sun shine on them...
With eyes scanning the words, my ears decide to find company else where. As my fingers, cold and hard from the fresh winter air, scribbles in dirty scrawls, my ears absorb all sorts of sounds. Birds chirp and flutter and greet their neighbours on other trees. The thin film of mist moves serenely through the lawns and the whispering trees - almost like a pantomime if viewed from a distance. The layer of mist dissolves into the air as a group of girls walk past it occupied in their gossips, debates and mere speculations. The sounds of nature are soon defeated by the loud sirens, rows and rows of it passing on the ever busy road. Their 'rhyming' sound hangs in the air for some time soon to be followed by the impatient horns and roaring engines, screeching wheels where the road and the hot tyres meet in a 'friction'. While this happens my mind races back to the images freshly stored and preserved in the corner of my brain. Images of my unmade bed, ma's frowning cute little face scolding me for another late start for college, pops uttering 'inshaAllah, i will pick you by 2, be safe...' , the queue come flock of girls passing by the sniper and through the metal detectors. As the sound of the singing sirens dissolves in dust particles suspended in the air, I quickly bury my images for later reference. At the same time I make a mental note to add more to the collection. For a second everything falls into a silence. No birds, no crows, no whispering leaves and mist, no emergency bells. A silence is soon taken over by the rhythm of the dribbling basket balls.
I survived another day..
Monday, 26 October 2009
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
He stood there in the front most saf (row) among men, some tall, some fat, some sleepy, some with tummies bulging out post heavy iftaari ritual and as a result stood there in a state of dreaminess. Alas everyone stood in front of his Creator. When everyone bowed down to prostrate to the Almighty, he got a little pushed sometimes from the tall man on the left and sometimes from the fat man on the right.
Someone in the masjid coughed constantly. His attention was diverted by the probably old man whose coughing got louder and louder. It agitated some when they should have been more concerned for the ill health of someone than being annoyed. The Imam's Talawat soared the starry skies and the Momins prayed. He could hear his grandma's voice in his unusually big ears. Quickly shaking his head like a child about to throw a tantrum he stood in respect with the rest of the congregation and listened to the message of God. He understood nothing like many around him but listened for it brought peace and harmony.
The wind blew from every corner, it criss crossed the Namazis standing shoulder to shoulder in peace and unity. Another gush of wind blew and the tent at a distance caught his attention. The tent stood like an old lady without a walking stick, wobbly and weak. With every flight of the night breeze, the tent danced back and forth and he wondered what lied behind the tent walls. On the other side of the floral green tent partition women, young and old, submitted themselves to their Lord.
On this side of the tent, where his world existed, once again while being squished between men who occasionally burped or felt itchy, his tiny, long eye lashed eyes closed. After only seconds he woke up to find himself the only one in Sajda. Embarrassed and shocked he adjusted his cap with one hand and pulled up his drooping trousers with the other, jumped onto his feet and joined the rest. For quite some length he didnt raise his head despite the minar's fascination. He felt ashamed of himself. He had fallen asleep while the Imam led the prayers. He had been absent while God looked down at his creatures immersed in prayers. How outrageous He must have felt to discover him dosing off in Masjid.
A delicate film of the purest tears filled his eyes. One drop glided down his bumpy cheek while the rest got sheltered by the long healthy lashes. When the imam and the rest turned their heads for Salam, he followed obediently and attentively. Cupped hands were raised in the air, some old wrinkly, some big, strong and veins protruding, some white, some brown, some rich and some poor, some joined together and some raised apart. Among the many sorts of hands he cupped his own tiny pair and brought them in front of his chest raising them in the air.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
i couldn't resist it and went out. at length i stood there admiring the monsoon weather under my umbrella. the wind was welcoming and the rain inviting. the umbrella soon lost its company and rain found me to play with. soon i was under the out of the world rain shower, it grew faster and heavier, just the kind i was waiting for the entire summer. it got colder and windier and more rainy. the rain fell down generously and drenched me soon. every part of my clothes embraced rain and cling to me to never let go. the wind felt cruel for a while but i surrendered to it. i let it make me shiver. i let the rain overpower me. i stopped moving and stood there to have a rendezvous with the rain as it fell lovingly on me. i looked at the sky, eye to eye trying to figure out how rain traveled from up there. but nature has its secrets and all i could see was a magical appearance of rain out of no where, just falling down. i realised that rain was in love. it came rushing down to its beloved. wasnt it so appropriate for the rain to say "i fall in love with the land, the soil, the earth and kept falling until i embraced it and melted into it"
coming out of my pointless thoughts, i secretly prayed for my wish to come true. it is said that pray while it rains and it will come true. so i prayed and prayed until i felt exhausted by my own whispers. the rain fell and fell everywhere. the clouds above moved faster, like ghosts sailing through God's sky. i walked barefoot on the soft bed of wet grass. the paleness of my feet complimented the green of the nature. then i looked around me; my wet glasses resting on the lawn swing, arch wall darkened where rainwater had embraced it in a blot, wall cress flowers hanging down in a farewell to the dripping leftover drops.
it was a moment,
a moment reflecting divine power,
when the rain danced down,
the purest of winds blew.
it was the rhythm in the air
the thunder in the clouds
when a whisper was let out,
when the world came to a tiny halt,
and a shy breath escaped
from the slightly parted lips.
it met with freedom
to fly away with the winds..
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
Amy: How hard is it to make lemonade ! ..
Mubi: it takes a newton, an einstein, a meera, an ainak wala jin and an amy to make a lemonade.. hm i say not that hard !
Amy: very hard ! .. do u have any idea abt my struggle today !
Mubi: no the lil birdy who delivers news got caught in an accident. what happened :p
Mubi: oh the lemons refused to get squeezed by you?
Amy: no it was horrible in taste mubi !
Mubi: then the following equation would work
amy + lemons + kitchen = disaster - amy - lemons= empty peaceful kitchen
the conversation followed but not in my favour. i also got to learn that there exists a Portugese lemonade :p
Monday, 17 August 2009
Her feet sank in the green of grass, puddle of water filled her sandals. Rain drizzled down,a tiny baby drop fell on her forehead. She lifted her face up, tried looking at the magnificent canvas of clouded sky. The brightness above mighty as ever made her squint her eyes. She closed her eye lids and let the raindrops dance on her face. The sky began to let go off the long held rain. Then she heard the longest thunder in her life. A lightening might strike her. But the rain, it fell down with force and fervour to the preceding rhythm of thunder . It rushed down towards the thirsty soul. As the droplets fell down, everything brightened up. Everything came to live. The grass, the leaves, the lemon tree nearby, even the birds began to sing a little. The windowpanes glistened to their own lifeless tone that water slid down them.
She stood there, her wet feet rooted in the soft grass tickling her. She observed that her feet looked whiter, fairer, flawless. A tiny red ladybird gave company to the tiny finger of her left foot, like a thief hiding in a narrow alley, silently and invisibly. Oblivious of the tiny life by her foot,she looked at her hands and saw beauty. The wheatish complexion had transformed to a glowing white. The rain fell down on her clothes, absorbed into the fabric and disappeared making it see through. The rain fell on her skin and the tiny hair stood in welcome of it.
A streak of shiver ran through her body and emerged on her skin as goosebumps. She quickly rubbed her hands over her cold arms embedding the standing hair. The softest breeze blew and alarmed her. The rain had stopped. The sky had grown silent and the clouds had swam away to another destination.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
we wait for so many things. as Pakistanis we wait 10 to 12 hours daily for this one thing: Bijli, angerzi mai bolay tu 'electricity'
my friend calls and says: whats happening
me says: umm waiting...
my friend says: my waiting just got over, lights back yay
me says: no no i was waiting for the washroom to get vacant :P
so yes, its all about waiting
we wait for electricity to COME and sometimes for it to go.
pop says: what are you doing mubi
me says: pa, waiting...
pop says: but the light is coming, what are you waiting for
me says: pa!! i m waiting for the light to go..
pop says: but why would anyone wait for it to go? we are supposed to wait for it to come to continue our electricity related chores/work etc etc
me says: no pa, ab zamana badal gaya hai :p the world is changing now :p actually i have to ring my friend, so i will call her when the light's out, best way of shedding an hour of load shedding!! :D :D
apart from all this
we wait in a queue
we wait for our turn in an interview
we wait for our favourite program
we wait for our new clothes that the tailor never stitches on time
we wait for a table to get vacant in a restaurant and then we wait for the order that we placed, we also wait for the delivery boy who happens to be lost though hes been to our place like only yesterday?
we wait for our o levels result, a levels, college results and so many other results
we wait for the new movie to release
we wait for some spicy gossip about our exes from our so and so friends
we wait to be logged onto facebook, even though the time span is a few seconds
we wait for the restoration of peace
we wait for the baby to come in the world
we wait for the leaders to change
we wait for our monthly salary/ stipend
we wait for the rain, its raining right now, the wait is over :D
'haan' ya 'naa' honay ka wait, then the girl/guy is engaged, phir shaddi ka wait.
chuti honay ka wait
weekend anay ka wait though we know exactly how many days and hours will it take to be a weekend but we go like this
friend: i thought you planned that...
other friend: i have! but i am waiting..
friend: for what?
other friend: the weekend!!!
we are always waiting. waiting for the right time to confess our love to someone, or to give an equally 'rude' reply to get even with someone.
in fact, the idiom, 'strike while the iron is hot' refers exactly to the 'waiting' bonus we get in life.
lately i was also waiting.i dont know for what but i was waiting. my friends asked why arnt you blogging these days. i didnt know. but i think i was waiting for the right time. hmm
sometimes, the waiting for something takes an entire lifetime. we wait and wait and wait for that one thing to happen to us but miss out on the little happy moments of life. sometimes we just go through life 'waiting' for something to happen instead of making it happen.
so basically, waiting is the transitory phase we all have to go through to reach our dreams, our wishes, our destinations. the waiting phase, however, is not void of thorns and ugly hindrances. getting through it, is like surviving through a war; losing a limb or two in the end.
i never thought waiting could do this to us !!
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Every year on the 1st August we put up our flag on the roof top as a yearly ritual in preparation of the independence day. However, as 14th of August fast approaches this year, i am forced to think over a few things as a Pakistani. Do I really respect the flag that is my identity? Do I feel proud being a Pakistani at this time, when difficulties envelope us more than ever before due to the indulgent and laid back attitude of our caretakers?
I m not a coward to back out and declare I m not honest to my country but I certainly am tired of the games being played with us. I m tired of the politics of the politicians. I m tired of the world politics and the big evil schemes shrouded in the slogan of 'helping developing countries'. I m tired of justifying the killing of my brothers and sisters based on some conspiracy theories and that all will end in good. In the real picture, all the waiting for a better and 'peaceful' tomorrow are distant and blurry. It’s like 'waiting for Godot' something that we are expecting but would never happen. The entire episode of waiting makes fun of our helplessness, mocking us right in the face.
I don’t want to sound a cry baby, nor am I complaining about my fate for putting me in a country lacking in almost all comforts that a citizen has a right to. My agitation is constantly nagging me to find answers to the questions in the dark corridors of power, politics and our caretakers. My lost patriotism, with much shame and disgrace falls on the predators we assumed to be our caretakers. I use the word 'caretaker' because that is what they are who sit on the seats of power, who travel on the taxes we pay, who drive in VVIP cars, who live in huge mansions with continuous power supply, indulge in luxurious activities, dine with super powers while the 'taken care of' face constant negligence.
This is a voice of everyone who has been affected by the turmoil, directly or indirectly. Although I m much disappointed in the power of pen, this is my only outlet. I come from what is called the young generation, successfully hopeless and dejected. I grew up in the times of 9/11 and have continued to see occupation, arms and ammunition, mass killings and bombs almost every day. I don’t want my children to learn that A stands for ammunition, B for bomb and W for war. But despite all the bleakness and the dejection -following is all that I ask for on behalf of my fellow citizens.
I ask not more than is my right. I voice no more than there is wrong in the world. I bleed no more than the pain of my brothers and sisters victimized by random drone attacks, shellings and guns. I don’t want false promises of long awaited peace with rehabilitation plans. I don’t want peace with broken limbs, maimed souls, forgotten identities, lost relations, war scars embedded into my skin, blood dried up on the barren land.
All I ask for is what I deserve. I want to see a blue sky, the green grass, a night sky that I can look up at without the fear of being hit by an unknown war machine. I want to breathe fresh air; open my eyes to a beautiful Pakistan every day. I wish to move around freely without any fear of insecurity, or risking my life to a bomb tied onto someone else. I want a true promise that would put a smile on every face. Do I ask for a lot?
Friday, 17 July 2009
i m not a human being then. i am a muslim people are afraid of. i raise the banner of islamophobia and scare people to the extent that they would end up stabbing me 18 times.
a courtroom is a place with people with some conscience i believe. or at least a courtroom is where people go to get justice. what happened to all the people there, especially the providers of justice when a racist man was stabbing a pregnant Muslim woman 18 times? why? only because she chose to wear a headscarf.
a 'normal human being' according to the definition of the west, is concious enough to use his/her reflex action when they see something unusual happening. like someone brutually stabbing a woman ! it is beyond my understanding. what happened? it takes quite a while to stab someone that many times. where were the people? or was the courtroom empty? the husband got stabbed 3 times. no one came to their rescue until she died? there were around 8 people there with perhaps no reflex action/ reaction.
some see the murder as an isolated incident, which i believe it isnt because the reaction was triggered because the stabber was a muslim hater who called marwa a terrorist in a public park.
but who kills a woman who is even pregnant. from a simple humanistic point of view (even the one coming from the west) killing someone is unjustifable.
how can i believe that any muslim that is being killed around the world, be it afghanistan, iraq, darfur, gaza and my own country is being killed to get hold of a couple of people, for some unachievable 'greater good thats never going to come' or because the terrorities are to be divided even if it costs human life.
even an elastic has its limit. after a certain point even that breaks.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
No i dont
Why dont you have it?
No one gave it to me
But why didnt you ask for it?
I think I did ask for one...
What do you mean 'think'? dont you remember?
I would have, but its been a long time
Maybe in another life?
We just live once...
O now I remember
that i did ask for it
well they didnt seem to feel my existence..
that is bizarre...did u tell them you really needed it?
Yes, i told them i NEED it and i have been waiting for it
what did they say?
what do you mean nothing? they must have...
i just heard something...big
then something hot slid down my limbs and chest..
what was it?
streams of it began to joyously slide down every part of my body
what was it?
something flew towards me and hit me on the forehead
was it a ball?
no, it was someone's some part
what you do mean?
I asked for peace...
I asked for peace and i got flesh and limbs flying towards me
I asked for peace and my blood earned freedom. it broke through my body
my blood and my brother's blood found escape from the false belief in piece
Monday, 29 June 2009
Sunday, 28 June 2009
Men are pretty little girls
chacha homer: its good you guys are finally accepting us as one of your own :D
doci anni: that is quite a controversial thing to say :p
mha: someone told me you're really anti men since always, so understand your dissing me :p :p
S.s : leme think.....
I. N: blahhhh
soso: profound insight. btw what gender is it again?
Sunday, 21 June 2009
A little girl and her father were crossing a bridge.
father: please hold my hand
girl: no dad, you hold my hand.
father: whats the difference?
girl: if i hold your hand and something happens to me, chances are that i may let your hand go. but if you hold my hand i know for sure you will never let my hand go !
however, in mubi's life things are a bit different
mubi: papa i was thinking....
papa : are you asking me or are you telling me ?
mubi wondering and attempting to sound clever: umm telling you?
papa giving mubi a look
mubi: *sigh* FINE asking you
papa: hmm much better young lady
another one day
papa hands clutched on the handbrake
mubi: papa will you please take your hand off it and let me drive?
papa: it feels good this way
mubi and papa in the car in the garage
papa: so are we there yet?
mubi: ya i guess...
papa: does my beard look overgrown?
mubi: hmmm no it looks fine
papa: ok im going to the barber to get my bread trim
mubi and papa in a conversation from two different floors
papa on 1st floor: where is that covering sheet?
mubi on ground floor: its the green one from the top. there are 3 sheets on my chair
papa: green? there is no green !!!
mubi runs upstairs and smartly shows papa the green one
mubi: see, this one !
papa astonished: and this is green?
mubi: oh i forgot...
mubi being cheeky: that you cant recognize colours
papa: says who?
mubi: a wild guess !
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
Back in the 19th century California, there lived a psychic rifle heiress, Sarah Winchester, who built a house continuously for 38 years to keep the spirits of the dead happy. watch the link. i would definitely want to visit this place !
something i googled: Winchester inherited more than $20.5 million upon her husband's death. She also received nearly 50 percent ownership of the Winchester Repeating Arms Company, giving her an income of roughly $1,000 per day, none of which was taxable until 1913. This amount is roughly equivalent to $21,000 a day in 2008. WOW !
Friday, 12 June 2009
Thursday, 4 June 2009
-andy dufresne, shawkshank redemption
"I think I'll be a clown when I get grown," said Dill. "Yes, sir, a clown.... There ain't one thing in this world I can do about folks except laugh, so I'm gonna join the circus and laugh my head off."
"You got it backwards, Dill," said Jem. "Clowns are sad, it's folks that laugh at them."
-To Kill a Mocking Bird
'the guilty commit the crime, the innocent are punished. thats the world we live in .
-the case of exploding mangoes
Landon: Listen, Jamie, I was hoping we could run lines together?
Jamie: Okay, but just not so anybody knows, right?
Landon: Well I just figured we could surprise everyone with how good I get.
Jamie: Like we could be secret friends.
Landon: Exactly, exactly it's like you're reading my mind.
Jamie: Great umm... maybe you could read mine.
[she gives him a cold glare and turns away]
-a walk to remember
Father Janovich: Why didn't you call the police?
Walt Kowalski: Well you know, I prayed for them to come but nobody answered.
Maula jutt: maulay nu maula na maaray tay maula nai marda oye!
chalo chalo lets get ahead of auntie
-some kids in the neighbourhood :/
Monday, 1 June 2009
two women are engaged in an intense conversation about the relations of the family, the ones that go like 'woh kis ka beta tha...' 'us ki biwi taya kay betay ki beti thi jo ab apni nand kay shukar ki khala zaat behan hai, us ki ma meray mamoo ki biwi ki phophii thi...' these kind of long LONG relationship talk where the root to the family tree is trying to be discovered.
khala: tanveer ka mian/ shawher fareeda ka bhai hai
mama: tanveer ka?
khala: haan..dekho...jo tanvee..
mama: tanveer mard ka naam hai?
mubi chuckles and bursts in laughter.
mama: kia? tanveer aurat hai?
mubi: obviously ma, Pakistan mai abi tak gay marriages legal nai hoi !!
as an afterthought mubi ended up breaking 3 eggs....
Sunday, 31 May 2009
Pa: aj khanay mai kia hai? whats for lunch today?
Ma: mattar gohst. mutton and peas
Pa: aur jis nay gosht nai khana woh kia khaaye? and who doesnt want to eat mutton?
Ma: woh mattar khaaye. they can have peas
Me: aur jis nay mattar nai khanay woh? and those who dont want to have peas?
Ma: woh apna sar khaaye! they can have their brain!
me (in a nostalgic tone): i so want to go back to my alevels days...
brother: start being dumb again
me: what? that was the only time when i wasnt!
me: salam, A say baat kerni thi...
A's bro: ya sure, hold a sec
me waiting for many seconds while theres a lot of screaming and shouting on the other line. finally A comes on the line
me: eerr hallo?
A : (shouts) dont wana talk to anyone right now, BYE!
hangs up the line
me: okaay....bye.....whatever! hmpf!
mubi: how could this be? can life ever be fair? hmpf!
Ma: why what happened?
mubi: its only 10: 55 am !!
Ma:( trying to be funny) hmm now thats tragic! tch tch! aisa roz roz nahi hona chahiyay
mubi: m not joking! can you believe it? they cant even be a little punctual !
Ma: (sees discomfort and annoyance) eerr are you expecting someone?
mubi: WAS! i was expecting someone but no! its either early or late.hardly ever on time!
Ma: omG...is it one of your imaginary friends from the past?
mubi: (looks at ma weirdly) what? NO ! are you sure you are alright?
Ma: i think i should be asking that !
mubi: well in that case no i am not alright. life is so not fair
Ma: yes you just said that...but i want to know more about who came early...
mubi: the light ma, the light! these wapda people will never learn anything about punctuality now, will they? how could they be so careless. if it goes for one hour why is it already back at 10: 55? i dont want any more surprizes hmpf !
and she walks out of the room while Ma gasps in shock and horror at the way WAPDA works...
someone said it so aptly that " All serious conversations gravitate towards philosophy"
Thursday, 28 May 2009
when you do the undid and then try to undo the did but then its no use coz the did is done and you cannot erase everything like undo the did
updated my hit list
cursed the politicians, burn in hell
cleaned my room, the messy study desk
bought the long desired fairy tale book :D
painted a maroon nail polish on a pink nail polish which made it almost black nail polish 'uber-cool' !!
have just used the compound word 'uber-cool' whose meaning is only available on urban dictionary
slept a lot on random hours with no electricity and sweat trickling down from all ticklish parts of my body
observed that all my previous posts have not been able to generate more than 12 comments on an average but the fan rate has gone up!
*update* ...burnt myself twice once with a 'tawa' and then with boiling water, electrocuted once, two deep cuts on fingers and saved myself from falling on the stairs face down all in a week.
then i havent...
read the zits comics in a long time
had any ice cream in the last 24 hours
had ras malai since last year
picked up a fight with my brother in a 'long' time
crashed the car even once, thats earning extra chances to drive!
stared back at 'men' who are quite keen on singing some song as soon as 'someone' passes by them
taken roadside pictures of a welding, a construction site and a baby
put on any make up in the last 3 years? ok no thats not a 'haven't'
i have never made a silly list like this one before.
*yet another update*
let this post be an open tag :D :D make your lists of haves and havents especially those you have commented and otherwise too..ok mubi stop typing !
Monday, 25 May 2009
"Lets spare the world! Your times up."
p.s: we are being lenient, you have 24 hours.
Angel of Death
Human Resource Dept.
Do not expect me to tell you what I had to go through or what my reaction was! Fear? Goosebumps? sweating like a pig while counting my limited breathes, fidgeting? nope, no, nothing like that. I was not astonished, neither did i feel my heart sinking into the deepest, unknown hide outs in my body (what? hmm). And most of all yes, unfortunately i did faint. Fainted! yes. Not because I was on a verge of having a cardiac arrest. No. Nothing that terrible. Just because I thought that 24 hours were so LESS! so unfair! I was overwhelmed with uncontainable excitement. So much to do in such a short time span!
When I finally regained my conscious, I pinched myself quickly and read the letter one more time. I couldnt organise my thoughts; all came jumping, running and galloping, crashing into my mind! Only if they had informed me before time I could have done it better.
I started off by making a long list of things i could do in the remaining 23 hours. I spent one hour fainting dramatically and staying unconscious. I decided I would first go and rob a bank. After all everyone should have a little adventure before they go UP. Talking of UP, theres a new animated movie called UP that I might have watched only if... Anyhow i was off to some of my mischief and violating the law. totally unleashed, no responsibility of being a responsible citizen. Then I went to a theme park and took all the rides, especially the roller coaster a number of times until I felt like throwing up.
Yes, yes you are right about that...the police aka cops (sounds cool) was after me! Of course robbing a bank is no joke! I went and hid in a cinema and watched all the movies they were showing -back to back. This saved my life for more than six hours. My genius mind was gliding, working fast like Mojo jojos!
To keep the long story short, by the time I came out I surrendered and landed in a jail. In this country every politician has to take a nice trip to the jail once at least, the more the better, for a successful career.
Dont expect me to end this piece with the mymotherwokemeup or ifelloffthebed kind of an ending although the whole writing is the 'silly piece of words', as if i care!! Well I did die. yes! The angel took me but now lets have some privacy and peace. I cant tell you what I am doing up here! *smug*
ghostly ever after
I COULD HAVE HAD ANOTHER ENDING. You know the kind Shakespeare did. Like he made his heroes tragic heroes and people cried at their tragic flaw and that one mistake they make that costs them their life. well yes that classic tragic ending. So here it goes. Ending number 2. REWIND! Darn the dvd's getting stuck.. and zoom we go back to where I was caught by the cops and ended up behind the bars.
to be continued...
lots of commercials.
To keep the long story short, by the time I came out I surrendered and landed in a jail. In this country every politician has to take a nice trip to the jail once at least, the more the better, for a successful career.
Soon my fame, and luck and excitement seemed like a drag. Like you go through when reading Twilight and thinking why is the same thing mentioned on every other page? 23 hours had long been over; how come i was still alive? i fell asleep while still in an Aside conversation with myself.
The sweltering, suffocating heat within the enclosed cell walls woke me up. i realized I'm still alive. A LIVE. Another tiny white envelope was tucked into my pocket. Only its edge was peeping out from the brown khakies.
I quickly pulled it out. Deja vu. Opened it in such a rush that I tore half a page. It was pink this time. On it was scribbled in an untidy writing, unlike the previous calligraphy font.
We are sorry. there has been some terrible mistake. the virus in our computer gave us your name. you are too bad for our place up here. we only take good people and thank God you showed us your evil side. you have truly saved us. You can continue with creating havoc down where you are. have fun! Toodles! chao! Hasta la vista ( not so soon)
good luck angel of death human resource dept
p.s: my team is saying a big halo to you.
Aside and aloud to myself: Sheesh! Someone free me from this jail!!! *screams*
The audience gets up and leaves the empty popcorn boxes and cold drinks and used tissue papers in the hall. murmuring to each other, 'i m glad the ending was happy', 'ya happily ever afters are rare..'