Monday, January 25, 2010

Airport Waiting

Before I do this, I should probably inform you that in order for me to write this post, I had to first sweat my way into finding an electric socket to plug my laptop, because, amazingly enough, in this forsaken country's one and only international airport, the only way to obtain some form of electricity is through begging. And so, having no other option, I begged.

"May we have your attention please. This is a security announcement.", she said as I sat down. Without the slightest interest of being secure, I looked at the person sitting next to me for approval, but I got a strawberry-cheesecake-self-indulgent man instead. What is brilliant is that a woman is now joining this very handsome young chap. And I'm sitting here by myself laughing on the inside because the joke is now on me.

And so I find myself alone. Waiting. If you think about it, all we ever really do in this life is wait. As a foetus, we waited nine whole months to come out, only to be welcomed by hairy strangers. You are now ten years old and you're waiting for your mum to pick you up from school. The dreadful teenage years are now behind you, and against all odds, you are still waiting for that knight in shining armour. You wait a little bit longer and that shining armour is now just a pile of rust.

But despite all this, we still wait. Because you and I, we both know, that the after-taste will be worth the wait, whether you're at the airport, stuck in traffic or in a place far far away.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Faking The Art Of Bravery

Sooner or later we all do it. Women fake orgasms to please. Men fake love to tease. It's an art really. A very convincing form of art. And it's ridiculously easy - you're either a very good actor or you're not. What is not as easy though, is the art of faking bravery, the art of faking smiles and the art of making others believe that you've got it all figured out.

You might not be able to admit it, or maybe you just don't want to, but deep down you know you should just break down and cry. But then again you know that you're better than that, that a couple of warm wet tears running down your blushed cheeks are not going to turn a black and white photograph into a coloured one.

So you fake it. Yes, you show your tooth-pasted white teeth and you fake it. You'll never know what you're missing until you try it for yourself. The pleasure you get out of it is beyond orgasmic. In fact, you get so used to doing it, that it becomes addictive. It possesses your emotions. It damages you in a way that not even a first degree psychologist will be enough for you.

It's funny really (or maybe not so much), but I used to think that people who do stuff like this are unmistakably fake, just like women getting boob jobs and men injecting themselves with botox. Turns out I was wrong.

Turns out faking it is easier. Turns out we are all award-winning actors and actresses in the end. With an "ahhh" there and an "mmm" there, we walk the red carpet, we pose, we win and we smile. Or rather we fake it. Because, yes, faking it is easier. Fooling yourself and others around you is less complicated than having to endure useless, never-ending comments that start with 'it will all be all right'. Because .. what if it isn't? .. what if it won't be? ..

p.s. pinch of salt.

Monday, January 4, 2010

The Unkissed Frog

On my bed in my room, I find myself scrutinising my favourite four walls. Rectangularly yellow, these walls have provided me my own personal fortress of solitude. Throughout the years, just like old wine improving with age, my box-forming walls accumulated character, knowledge and any other independent thoughtful ability that was thrown their way.

This in-depth wall scrutiny causes my eyes to fall on the frog. Yes, the frog. The green, four-legged amphibian commonly known as the frog. There is nothing extraordinary about this particular frog. He is just like any other frog, one who would never in a million years stand out from the crowd. Except he did. But only to her. And so she picked him and they danced the mambo jambo, living together happily ever after. Or so the story is told.

I grew up believing the story, thinking that on my next visit to our non-existent local lakes, I will find my very own frog. Or rather that he'll find me. To my bewilderment, we never did find each other. With mixed feelings welling up inside me, I started questioning the truth behind this sort of fairytale, only to find out that the answers to the questions I was asking were too much for me and my small colourful world to handle. And so, somehow still hopeful, I turned to science for better answers.

'Frogs are on the brink of extinction', scientific research articles claim (many gold stars for scientists). I cannot express in words the relief I felt when I read this valuable piece of information. My beliefs were restored for good and nothing and no one will ever take them away from me again.

There is however one question I still ponder upon sometimes .. if we know that frogs are becoming extinct, why is it that we keep on pursuing them instead of focusing our attention to other equally capable creatures, ones who are not on the verge of perishing? Why?

P.S. I advise you to read my blogs with a pinch of salt. Thank you.