Wednesday, October 28, 2009


In honour of Nanowrimo Month, I'm posting this here excerpt of a work I've dug out from the archives. It's been posted in bits and pieces, sporadically over the last few years.
I've started work on it again. And have set a goal of December for completion. I approach the 20 000 word mark.

Here goes:

A week later my mother gave me an address. It was for a house in Fordsburg. I set out early that Saturday morning.

The drive there had passed with me replaying images of my father’s face in my mind. And having imagined conversations with the both of them. Conversations that ended with them getting together again.

As long as we live with them, we’re still their children. In fact, we never cease to be just that, as I later learnt. And as long as we’re their children we want to play happy families. Here I was as 22 yearning until it left a hole in me, for a family. A whole, though flawed family. Even when every sensible cell in my body reminded me that things had been ‘finished’ for both of them for some time already.

I stood before the little house with its low roof and cheerful potted clivias that were just beginning to flower – a riot of orange. It seemed unfair that she should have these bright, happy flowers when the garden of my life had just been destroyed by a storm that she had unleashed.

I rang the bell.

“Just a minute,” she sang.

At the sound of that voice, my heart soared. But when she opened the door, it plummeted from those heights, crushed.

How dare she look so happy when…?
Had she not given a moment’s thought to him?
Her husband of twenty five years?
What kind of a woman was she?

Her own expression flitted from surprise, to joy, to contrition. Almost as swiftly, I would imagine as my own transformation from a state of joy to one of anger.
My eyes burnt with the unshed tears. I would not allow her the pleasure of seeing my pain. I blinked, angry at myself. I turned around, ready to leave.

“Wait!” I stopped mid-stride.
“Wait Asma. We need to talk.”
I didn’t turn. The pain, which had now become a physically gut wrenching one was too much. It left me breathless. “What’s his name?”
“Asma, look at me!”
“You don’t have any right to demand anything from me.” My voice quavered.
“Okay” softer this time. “Okay, Asma, please look at me. Come here.”
Are we also conditioned to obey? I thought bitterly.
As I turned to face her, I suddenly felt guilty. Didn’t she have a right to happiness? Would I want what they had shared for myself?

And then I knew what to do.


Dear Diary

Her story, as it turns out is not very different to what happens to people every day. She didn’t go out looking for him. He happened. Ya, I know, shit happens. But I guess to her, he is anything but that.

She’s happy. You know, I’ve never seen her happy. She looks pretty like that. What’s that word? Radiant. Ya, she’s radiant.

She says they’re going back to Cape Town. All of his family live there.

I tried to hide my shock. And I was shocked. Shaken, like I’ve never been before.

I wanted to feel betrayed when I heard her say that. I wanted to scream at her and tell her what a hypocrite I think she is but I couldn’t really find the words. Does this make me a better person than she is?

Do I want to be better?What is better?
Or is it simply being human?
The best Human you can be?


Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Celebrities and celebrations

I'm sure you can tell that I'be been invited to a good few parties lately:P I attended all dressed as a cake.

The Mad Hatter was thrilled with this one. I did it especially for his party. We finished it with a tea-set precariously perched on it's lopsided topmost tier.

Yes, I've been hobnobbing too. Just some of the celebrities I've met lately

Monday, October 19, 2009


Nah, contrary to what the absence of posts may hint at, it's not true. I'm not dead. But I have been run over by words. I was in the ICU after reading Barbara KIngsolver'sThe Poisonwood Bible, since I had never even imagined writing as stunning as all that.

Pity none of the words that floored me were my own.

I've also just read three of the Twilight books in a space of three days. I plan on buying the fourth. Not because the writing dazzles or anything though, but simply because I'm chachie to know what happens next.

I read J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace. Food for thought there. Maybe, contrary to the evidence, I am growing up after all. But don't tell anyone I said that. They might expect me to start behaving more responsibly . Shudder. Can you even begin to imagine that !!

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Lazeeza Days...

Lazeeza days are moody. Sometimes they’re cheerful inspiring, buoyant. And on other days they are limp, weighted by negativity and negative beings. A morning that starts with ‘is it fresh’ is often a forgone conclusion. And is the kind of day I’d rather hide from.

But then I meet the man. The young man with the deformed arm, who goes about life doing, doing and doing some more and I am cheered. I know that he faces challenges day after day. That the half length arm with a single malformed finger must be the cause thereof, but still he presses on. Drives, works, lives. And always…smiles.

Or I meet the old lady, shrunken, diminished in body with a flaming spirit that dares life to deign otherwise. She bakes wedding cakes, she tells me. And I find my mind conjuring up images of the white Arum lilies she so lovingly describes, perfect, and a snow strewn wedding.

And then there’s the couple. The unforgiving eye, the blighted eye would never see beyond the dark, fat man and his equally dark and unbeautiful wife. But to me, I see a marriage of souls. A thoughtful, loving husband, and a woman who after more than twenty years still has the grace to blush when he teases. A restorative balm when I find my spirit becoming jaded.

The previous post brought this gem into my life – courtesy of Azra . Since I think that wealth is always best when shared. Enjoy…

''For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to get through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that this was my life. There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way'' ~ Alfred D Souza