Do you believe in synchronicity?
Reference to Tangent: I knew what I wanted to do with the last post of the challenge but I didn’t know what to call it. So I opened a dictionary and started going through words with Z. I couldn’t find anything I liked and then randomly the word ‘zuski’ came into my head. I Googled it and this is what it said:
Yolanda looked at herself in the full length mirror, the only luxury she and her father had allowed her. Her green floor-length dress was faded in the way clothes get when they have been washed too many times in the briny sea water. It was unadorned and unfashionable. She added a bright yellow apron on the dress and suddenly, her appearance didn’t look as shabby as before.
“Carlos…it is still Carlos right?”
After a startled pause, he said curtly, “You knew my father.”
This was a complication he hadn’t foreseen. Carlos wasn’t here out of choice. He had been ordered by Munster to collect the man named Xenos, though considering it meant ‘stranger,’ Carlos wondered just who or what this man was. All that Carlos knew was that the man was a legend.
He thrust it in…it was so deep. He had no idea that a body could accommodate so much. As it hit the right spot, she started to convulse, her face contorting, her mouth opening in a silent scream. And just as soon as it had started, the convulsing stopped; the face stopped contorting and her eyes fluttered close. A puff of breath escaped her sensuously parted lips and she looked peaceful.
Romeo couldn’t sleep. Even though he knew they were safe, for the night at least, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. Every time he did, he heard the gunshots. Every time he came close to falling asleep, the terror of losing Hunter and thus their only protection from the Eastwood family, made him gasp awake.
A balmy Bombay evening, two hot cups of tea, and Tiny and Huge are sitting in their pet places, at right angles to each other. He sits quietly, as Tiny chatters away, trying to coax him into saying something. Finally she asks wistfully, “Is there anything you regret?”
Huge rubs his chin thoughtfully. Tiny is almost convinced she won’t get a response. Then he casually says, looking at her, “I have yet to make a decision I regret.”
Huge goes back to his tea with a twinkle in his eye as Tiny dissolves into a puddle of mush.
Tiny is talking about her courtship with Huge to her two daughters. Every time she starts a sentence with ‘do you remember,’ Huge replies sheepishly with ‘I don’t remember that.’ This goes on for some time when Little One asks, “What do you remember dad?”
“All I remember is your mom wearing a blue saree. Not dark blue…it was a soft blue, like the sky, with silver lines. She was wearing a watch and silver bangles.”
Little One and Big One turn to look at Tiny who nods with a smile.
“Well at least he remembers something!”
Big One has just turned eighteen and there are suddenly talks of boyfriends and dating and romance, which makes Huge uncomfortable. She may be eighteen but for him, she is still his baby.
Once Tiny has given her discourse on love and romance to her daughter, Huge decides to contribute his two-bits on the subject.
He tells his daughter with all sincerity, “Wait for the ghanti.”
“When you hear bells ringing that’s how you’ll know he’s the one.”
She looks at Huge curiously and asks, “Did you hear the ghanti?”
“Of course. Why do you think I only remember the saree and nothing else?”
Her back to the wall, she clutched her heart as she willed it to return to its normal rhythm. Taking deep breaths, she said soothing words to calm her frazzled nerves. Once her breath had returned to normal, she peeked into her son’s bed and heaved a sigh of relief to see him peacefully asleep.
She sank onto the floor and started to cry. “No…stop Nina,” she said to herself. But the adrenaline that had been pumping through her blood was wearing off and the tears of shock and relief burned her eyes. She allowed herself to cry but for only a minute.
She then stood up to her full height and made a promise to herself…she promised herself that she would never let anything happen to her son. She would keep him safe and away from the big bad mean world.
Hello to my once upon a time best friend
Who is now just a number in my contact list
Do you feel the intensity when I stare at your name?
Do you miss me or do you pacify yourself
Remembering the fond memories we had?
Do you look at my name,
Now a statistic on your phone
And wish those simpler days would return
Where we used to need each other?
Was it just need or did we have a connection?
Was it just me or did you feel it too –
The warmth, the comfort, the love
Of conversations and wisdom shared?
Years have gone since those inseparable days
You have moved on and so have I
Now we meet each other in social gatherings
Pretending we are still best friends
We meet, we greet, we talk
But do you feel the chasm as I do?
And then in moments of weakness you say –
“You’re still the only friend I have”
But do you know how to be a friend?
How can you when you never learnt?
Who am I to blame you though
When I made a new cult and forgot
The “somebody” that I used to know?
It was time.
I had spent eons on Earth; pruning and straightening out the human race. It was not easy. Difficult choices had to be made. But a new world order had been created where generations could survive and thrive. For the first time in a century, the human race was happy. It had taken them a century to understand what that meant. But like everything else, they had figured it out.
Now it was time for me to leave. Time to go home. Time to rest. Time to rejuvenate.