Phew...
The traffic is terrible at this time of day. It's when people get off from work and try to get home as they are racing against the departing sun.
I look at my wrist watch. It is only four thirty. I will probably reach home in about an hour. I shift my weight to my other foot. The heat in the fully packed bus is very consuming. I can almost see drops of sweat sliding down on my back. Even the air seems very thin that I almost choke on my own breath.
I tell myself not to tink about the heat or the airless condition I am in in this bus. OK. I will think about... Oh, no! Here comes the doubt... I have been having doubts about... Argghhh... I do not want to think about it. This kind of dilemma makes me think back to several years ago when my mother told me that a man, a police man was asking my hand for marriage. I had hated it, but I wanted not to disappoint my mother.
Anyways, my doubts now concern something a whole lot different yet no less important...
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Two Kittens
Such cute cats, kittens!
I’m not really a big fan of the feline species, but those two cats are adorable. They are wrestling with each other, playing and learning a skill at the same time.
Well, they kinda remind me of my two kids. They often wrestle and try to knock each other down. I can almost hear their giggles. I smile.
My friends at work are probably sick and tired of listening to my stories about my kids. But, what else can I do? They ARE my pride and joy. Sight for sore eyes. Remedies of all sickness.
Oh, that’s my bus.
Phew…
Getting on a full bus like this one is kinda tricky. You've got to have what it takes to be a bus passenger here in my city. First, you must be strong. Second, you must be persistent. Third, you must be able to focus on several things at once: your feet, your head, a grip for your hands, and last but the most important one, your wallet.
The guy in front of me looked at me with a smile. I try to remember if I probably know him. Hmmmmm… My screen appears blank. No memory of his face or smile.
His smile is growing bigger. He’s probably one of those guys, who think they can get girls by smiling and staring at them. Weirdo!
I shift my gaze out the glassless window. The road is packed with vehicles in which anxious parents are trying to get home as soon as possible to meet their families, impatient clubbers cannot wait to get to the club they’re heading to, irritated bus drivers shift their gazes here and there, trying to find potential passengers, and a lot more anxious paople.
There is a man walking on the roadside with a kid, probably his son. The man is yelling at the kid. He seems to be angry with his son.
I often wonder why parents get so angry with their kids. Don’t they ever make mistakes of their own? Grown-ups make mistakes all the time, and they have been around longer. Kids are allowed to have more mistakes than grown-ups are; they’ve been here only for a short time. I'll try to keep that in mind when my kids make mistakes next.
Tired and anxious, I steal glances at the people in this bus. There is a girl who seems like she just got a nose job, an awful one I might add. Her nose looks like it was swollen or something. Why can’t she just be grateful for what she’s got? There are some people who don’t even have a normal nose with two holes, I watched it on TV few weeks ago. I end up feeling sorry for the girl for getting scammed by some freaky plastic surgeon.
Next to the girl is some biker-wannabe. He’s wearing a black Harley-Davidson t-shirt, which I’m sure is the fake one judging from the quality of the fabric. He’s wearing an earring and there’s a fake tattoo on his left arm. There is a big chain around his thin neck, a huge silver ring on his bony finger, and a long chain that seems to attach to his wallet somewhere in his jeans’ back pocket.
He’s trying too hard to be cool. But his insecure glances towards the people around him tell me otherwise. He’s not very confident about his own look.
The bus stops again, with a jerk that is so annoying.
An old woman steps in with difficulty. She tries hard to hold on the bar above her head so that she won’t fall. It’s hard because the bar is not within the reach of her thin hand.
I look around at the other passengers of the bus. Some guys are sitting down; some strong and healthy guys are sitting down. But, none stands up to give the old woman a seat she really needs. I try to shoot angry stares at the guys but none seems to notice.
I look at the old woman again and feel sorry for her. A woman her age should not travel by bus like this one. She should travel by a cab or something. Then again, she probably cannot afford the fares.
She reminds me of my departed mother. I’m reminded of how I hadn’t been able to do anything for her before she passed. My eyes get a little misty.
I look at the old woman again and smile as she looks at my direction. She smiles back. She looks tired.
Oh, I’m going to get off at the next stop. I try to ease my way thru the crowd to the nearest door. What a tremendous effort!
There! I’m at the door now.
I tell the bus conductor that I’m going to get off at the next stop. He signals the driver to stop right away.
Man! Didn’t he hear what I said? The next stop, def!
As the bus stops with another annoying jerk, I get off.
Phew! That was a safe landing!
I have to walk a little to get to the narrow street where my rented house is located. I’m tired, but the image of meeting my kids exhilarates me. Suddenly I don’t feel tired anymore. I stop by at mini market to buy some presents for my kids.
Two small packs of biscuits will do.
I walk out the store with a smile. My kids are gonna be happy to get these presents.
My step slows down as I see smoke coming out of an area that... I think it’s close to my house. I think it’s another fire in some of those tight-spaced houses.
My heart starts to beat faster for some reasons. I don’t know but my feelings suddenly turn bad.
I start to run though I don’t know why I do.
I’m stoned! It’s not some of those tight-spaced houses that were on fire. It was MY HOUSE.
The first thought that occurs in my head is where my kids are. I try to go through the barricade to get to my house. I don’t care about anything else. I need to see if my kids are OK. People try to stop me from going closer to the still-burning remains of the house I rent. I guess they finally give up because I’m too strong-willed.
The house doesn’t look like a house anymore. It’s…
“Where are my kids?” I yelled.
No answer comes.
I keep yelling and screaming trying to find my kids by yelling out their names.
“Khansa! Tristan! Where are you?”
I don’t realize that I’m beginning to cry, the most heartbreaking cry I’ve ever done in my whole life.
A neighbor, Miranda, said softly to my ear, “You’ve got to let go. They’re in a better place.”
I can’t lose them. Not now! Not while I’m still trying to save up for their school tuition.
“Khansa! Tristan!”
But my voice echoes back to my ears like some strange noise.
I fall down to the ground, feeling lifeless. I just wanna die now.
“God, take me, too.”
I’m not really a big fan of the feline species, but those two cats are adorable. They are wrestling with each other, playing and learning a skill at the same time.
Well, they kinda remind me of my two kids. They often wrestle and try to knock each other down. I can almost hear their giggles. I smile.
My friends at work are probably sick and tired of listening to my stories about my kids. But, what else can I do? They ARE my pride and joy. Sight for sore eyes. Remedies of all sickness.
Oh, that’s my bus.
Phew…
Getting on a full bus like this one is kinda tricky. You've got to have what it takes to be a bus passenger here in my city. First, you must be strong. Second, you must be persistent. Third, you must be able to focus on several things at once: your feet, your head, a grip for your hands, and last but the most important one, your wallet.
The guy in front of me looked at me with a smile. I try to remember if I probably know him. Hmmmmm… My screen appears blank. No memory of his face or smile.
His smile is growing bigger. He’s probably one of those guys, who think they can get girls by smiling and staring at them. Weirdo!
I shift my gaze out the glassless window. The road is packed with vehicles in which anxious parents are trying to get home as soon as possible to meet their families, impatient clubbers cannot wait to get to the club they’re heading to, irritated bus drivers shift their gazes here and there, trying to find potential passengers, and a lot more anxious paople.
There is a man walking on the roadside with a kid, probably his son. The man is yelling at the kid. He seems to be angry with his son.
I often wonder why parents get so angry with their kids. Don’t they ever make mistakes of their own? Grown-ups make mistakes all the time, and they have been around longer. Kids are allowed to have more mistakes than grown-ups are; they’ve been here only for a short time. I'll try to keep that in mind when my kids make mistakes next.
Tired and anxious, I steal glances at the people in this bus. There is a girl who seems like she just got a nose job, an awful one I might add. Her nose looks like it was swollen or something. Why can’t she just be grateful for what she’s got? There are some people who don’t even have a normal nose with two holes, I watched it on TV few weeks ago. I end up feeling sorry for the girl for getting scammed by some freaky plastic surgeon.
Next to the girl is some biker-wannabe. He’s wearing a black Harley-Davidson t-shirt, which I’m sure is the fake one judging from the quality of the fabric. He’s wearing an earring and there’s a fake tattoo on his left arm. There is a big chain around his thin neck, a huge silver ring on his bony finger, and a long chain that seems to attach to his wallet somewhere in his jeans’ back pocket.
He’s trying too hard to be cool. But his insecure glances towards the people around him tell me otherwise. He’s not very confident about his own look.
The bus stops again, with a jerk that is so annoying.
An old woman steps in with difficulty. She tries hard to hold on the bar above her head so that she won’t fall. It’s hard because the bar is not within the reach of her thin hand.
I look around at the other passengers of the bus. Some guys are sitting down; some strong and healthy guys are sitting down. But, none stands up to give the old woman a seat she really needs. I try to shoot angry stares at the guys but none seems to notice.
I look at the old woman again and feel sorry for her. A woman her age should not travel by bus like this one. She should travel by a cab or something. Then again, she probably cannot afford the fares.
She reminds me of my departed mother. I’m reminded of how I hadn’t been able to do anything for her before she passed. My eyes get a little misty.
I look at the old woman again and smile as she looks at my direction. She smiles back. She looks tired.
Oh, I’m going to get off at the next stop. I try to ease my way thru the crowd to the nearest door. What a tremendous effort!
There! I’m at the door now.
I tell the bus conductor that I’m going to get off at the next stop. He signals the driver to stop right away.
Man! Didn’t he hear what I said? The next stop, def!
As the bus stops with another annoying jerk, I get off.
Phew! That was a safe landing!
I have to walk a little to get to the narrow street where my rented house is located. I’m tired, but the image of meeting my kids exhilarates me. Suddenly I don’t feel tired anymore. I stop by at mini market to buy some presents for my kids.
Two small packs of biscuits will do.
I walk out the store with a smile. My kids are gonna be happy to get these presents.
My step slows down as I see smoke coming out of an area that... I think it’s close to my house. I think it’s another fire in some of those tight-spaced houses.
My heart starts to beat faster for some reasons. I don’t know but my feelings suddenly turn bad.
I start to run though I don’t know why I do.
I’m stoned! It’s not some of those tight-spaced houses that were on fire. It was MY HOUSE.
The first thought that occurs in my head is where my kids are. I try to go through the barricade to get to my house. I don’t care about anything else. I need to see if my kids are OK. People try to stop me from going closer to the still-burning remains of the house I rent. I guess they finally give up because I’m too strong-willed.
The house doesn’t look like a house anymore. It’s…
“Where are my kids?” I yelled.
No answer comes.
I keep yelling and screaming trying to find my kids by yelling out their names.
“Khansa! Tristan! Where are you?”
I don’t realize that I’m beginning to cry, the most heartbreaking cry I’ve ever done in my whole life.
A neighbor, Miranda, said softly to my ear, “You’ve got to let go. They’re in a better place.”
I can’t lose them. Not now! Not while I’m still trying to save up for their school tuition.
“Khansa! Tristan!”
But my voice echoes back to my ears like some strange noise.
I fall down to the ground, feeling lifeless. I just wanna die now.
“God, take me, too.”
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