Lisa and Clyde

"to forgive is to give up on the hope that the past could have been different"

A quarter of a lifetime. That’s how long it took them to be in each others’ arms again. Wasted years. 25 wasted years. Those years could have been spent together, building a different life together, but no, fate has not been so kind to them.

But alas! Perhaps fate has not been too ungenerous to them. Perhaps those years were not a waste, but an opportunity to grow and fulfill their individual dreams. And now after all those years , after they’ve nurtured their own lives, they’ve found each other again.

If you do not believe in destiny, perhaps it’s time that you should. The story of Lisa and Clyde is one such that proves the power of a Higher Authority, the greatest matchmaker of all. If you are meant to be, then you are meant to be; and so it will be because the Matchmaker wills it to be. No matter how many years, when the time is right and the circumstances are ripe, then it shall be.

Dominic

"be the change you wish to see in the world"

Is our destiny predetermined, or do we shape our own fate? For the past two years, this had been Dominic’s query about himself and about life. And the more he pondered, the more he questioned; and the more he queried, the more he reflected.

Dominic was not a wealthy man, and although he was better off than a lot of people, he lived as if he weren’t. He worked as a consultant and engineer for a local organization dedicated to improving the water and sanitation infrastructure in Uganda for five years before moving to Ethiopia to do the same job. It was in Ethiopia where he met his future wife, a doctor volunteering in a local medical facility. They were married before the year ended and stayed in Ethiopia to continue their selfless work.

Now, five years later, Dominic asked himself: If I were to go back in time and do something else, would I have ended up in the same place?

He asked this not because he was unhappy with his life or his marriage. On the contrary, he was very happy and quite content. He only asked because years and years ago, long before he came to Africa he had encountered a major crossroad in his life, and the choice he made then had led to this particular place and circumstance. It was not out of discontent that he wondered about it, it was more out of curiosity because during that time at the crossroads, he had almost took the other path.

One evening, as Dominic lay in bed musing about the question, he fell into a deep sleep. When he woke up, he found himself back at that major crossroad in his life. This was his chance, his chance of finding out whether his life would’ve been different. After taking the path he had given up when he first ran into the crossroad, Dominic woke up again. This time it was for real, he was back in his bed. As he looked around his room, nothing was different. Everything was as it was before he had slumbered, including the picture of his wife and himself married by the chieftain of the local tribe in their locality.

He said loudly to himself, “It was only a dream.”

A moment later someone knocked on his door.

He quickly went to the door and opened it. It was the native girl his wife was training to help in the medical facility.

“Dr. D, you must come quickly. Two men had an accident and they’re in the emergency room right now,” the girl informed hurriedly.

Dominic doubtfully looked around the room and the empty hall. He blinked at the girl, unsure what to do or say.

“Doctor, you must come immediately,” the girl said again.

“My wife is not here,” Dominic replied.

“Your wife is asking for you at the emergency room, Doctor. She needs your help, Doctor.”

Dominic, still unsure, followed the girl down the hall. As he walked he kept on asking himself, why does she keep on calling me doctor? She has always called me Mr. D, not Dr. D. And that was when it hit him. The dream, the crossroad, the path he chose this time.

Tom

"think twice"

Have you ever wondered why Tom ran away? He had a home, a good one…a really good one. He had a family–his mother cat, his father cat, his two uncles, and five siblings. His master’s maid took care of them all including him. He was fed thrice a day, and there was always water in the toilet whenever his cup dried. He had his own pillow on the big couch, and he had his own collar with his name on it. Although he shared a scratching pad with his siblings, it was big enough for all of them. In short, he lived comfortably…very comfortably. So why did he run away?

Indeed he had a good home, but Tom longed for more than that. He wanted adventure, a life outside the house. He wanted freedom! Living in the house meant following all the rules, but Tom was tired of all the rules. He just wanted to get away. One day he tried breaking the rules so they would let him out. His family chided him and began reciting the rules of the house:

Before crossing the street
Or leaving your seat
Think twice

Before eating that cake
That was left on that plate
Think twice

Before catching those mice
Please hear my advice
Think twice

Before licking your paws
And scratching your claws
Think twice

Before snatching that dish
Or stealing that fish
Think twice

‘Cause you live in this house
Don’t act like a louse
Think twice

Can’t handle the task?
Must you really need ask?
Think twice

For leaving is unwise
If you go you could die
So think twice.

But Tom was very hardheaded. He really yearned to be free. So he didn’t think twice, and he broke all the rules. Eventually the doors were opened and he was kicked out–figuratively speaking. He ran away, and everyone thought he would never return because he boasted that he never would. And he never did.

And not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t think twice while he was crossing the street.

Think Twice

Before crossing the street
Or leaving your seat
Think twice

Before eating that cake
That was left on that plate
Think twice

Before catching those mice
Please hear my advice
Think twice

Before licking your paws
And scratching your claws
Think twice

Before snatching that dish
Or stealing that fish
Think twice

‘Cause you live in this house
Don’t act like a louse
Think twice

Can’t handle the task?
Might you really need ask?
Think twice

For leaving is unwise
If you go you could die
Think twice

Geoffrey

"you make breaking hearts look so easy"

Isn’t it obvious? I am very sad and lonely, short of being depressed. I barely eat; I have no appetite for stale crustaceans. Sleep eludes me; I am not comfortable in my new home–if you call these synthetic corals home. I say “new” because unlike my neighbors here, I wasn’t bred in captivity. I had a home once, a real one where I was free and happy. Now, look at me: I look old and weary. And I am. Everyday I remember how it was like to be with my family. I miss them so much. They loved me and loved to look at me racing away or dancing around. I made them smile and laugh. Now, my audience consists of children poking at the glass to get my attention and people taking pictures of me–sometimes forgetting to turn off their flashes. The horror! They hurt my eyes; they blind me! There was a time when these humans were interesting, and I swam around for them for a while as they watched. But I soon grew tired of it and them; they don’t know how it feels to be trapped in here for a long time and being made a clown–I’m not a clown fish, there’s nothing funny here; if you’re looking for Nemo, he’s in the next aquarium! I just want to be free. Is that so hard to ask? If I break your heart for looking like this, you’re breaking mine for keeping me here. Let me go.

Marie and Polo

"do you wish we'd fall in love?"

Marie:

You flash me a smile
And stifle a laugh
Catch me by surprise
By looking like that.

You twinkle your eyes
and say something nice
I cannot describe
How I feel inside.

Infatuated
Happy and giddy
So it’s one-sided
Don’t care, let me be.

Then you walk me home
Make sure I’m okay
I know we’re just friends
I like it this way.

Polo:

I give you a smile
I laugh at your joke
Catch you unawares
When you give that look.

Reminds me of one,
One from my sad past
For whom I sing to
A love so steadfast.

When I walk you home
I make sure you’re okay,
For once long ago
I lost her that way.

Marguerite

"struggling but hopeful"

How many times do we experience real, true love in our lifetime? They say once, and if we’re lucky, twice. But perhaps the bigger question is: after experiencing that one true love, can we ever learn to truly love again? This may not be a very urgent query for us, but I know one who, as we speak, is out there right now looking at the darkening sky, wondering, deciding, torn. Her name is Marguerite.

I met Marguerite a few years back. We were introduced by a friend of mine who was a friend of her cousin. She was a beautiful, witty and charming girl who made everyone around her laugh. Constantly the center of attention, she was also the life of the party. Her laugh was infectious, her cheerfulness addictive. Her radiance and exuberance drew people to her, including myself.

Through the years she became less and less available to her friends and everyone else as she began an intimate relationship with somebody who possessed a disposition opposite from hers. He was not a handsome fellow, but his looks were tolerable. Perhaps he would have been more appealing if it were not for his reserved and quiet manners. He was not a bad man; on the contrary, he was kind and gracious. He was just greatly misunderstood because of his proud manners.

Marguerite was the only one who truly understood him, and she loved him truly and deeply. Her love and devotion were met with equal ardor, and for some time they lived happily and contentedly together.

However there is always that insecurity looming when such happiness and satisfaction is reached: happiness could not last this long. And for the young lovers, indeed it did not. A terrible sudden ailment claimed the life of Marguerite’s true love, and before she knew it, she was alone, much like a widow with a broken heart and a thinning glow.

She struggled for years to recover from the pain and the heartbreak, sometimes disheartened and severely melancholic, while at other times more hopeful. Ultimately, she lived and continued living. Although she never fully retrieved the glow that once made her stand out, she nevertheless regained some of her happiness.

It was during this time when another man came into her life. This man was different from her previous lover, but he rekindled in her a feeling that not only reminded her of a distant past, but also spoke to her of a possibility for the future.

Now, she’s deep in thought. Upon her perch on that rock I could only imagine the inner conflicts that have led her to find solace in nature. How can I tell her to give love another chance? That there’s no transgression in learning to love again? How can I tell her that it pains me more to see her alone and unhappy than to see her fulfilled in the arms of another? How can I tell her to let me go, to forget me?

And as if she heard me, she says, “I’ll never be forgotten; you shall forever be…”

How many times do we experience real, true love in our lifetime? They say once, and if we’re lucky, twice.

Diego

"one direction"

My Final Tribute to My Muse

This road, it’s my journey

These steps, my struggle

Forward leads me from you

Determined, get myself through.

Yet once in a while, I fall back

Sometimes stopping altogether

For moments I am immobile

Tasting tears instead of water.

On these moments, they flood in

Everything that has ever been

I break down, start to panic

I hate myself for it.

Understand this though:

That in every inner tussle

One’s bound to get in trouble

Mais c’est la vie; it’s normal!

No point, going back

Only pain in looking back

One direction, only forward

Be proud in moving onward.

Made mistakes, no regrets

Part of life: to have loved and lost

But run along, through the rough

Go ahead: live, love, laugh.

Patrick

"don't over take me; it's embarrassing"

Patrick, 34, was a slow and careful driver. The other day, as he was taking his motorbike for a ride, an old man on a motorized wheelchair passed him by.

Patrick could not help begging the old man to slow down. “Please don’t overtake me; it’s embarrassing!” He cried at the old man. The latter just gave him the finger and went on. Patrick was so offended he increased his speed until finally he was able to overtake the old man on the wheel chair.

As the distance between them widened with Patrick in front, Patrick turned to wave at the old man, saying, “So long sucker!”

Then crash!

He had continued running on a stop sign and hit a garbage truck.

“Moron,” the old man remarked under his breath.

Janice

"i'm still upset"

“When I get my hands on him, I swear I am going to wring his neck!” Janice said furiously to her friend over the phone. She’d been waiting for her boyfriend at the restaurant for over an hour, but still no sign of the “worm”.

“Don’t be upset, I’m sure he has a reasonable explanation for being late,” her friend replied.

“Well he can just tell his excuses to the waiter when he gets here because I am leaving!” She cried. She paid her bill and walked out the door, all the while saying to her friend, “He’s always late. I am so tired of waiting for him. I am tired of hearing his excuses. Just exhausted! And he’s not even picking up his phone or answering my messages! That stupid idiot!”

“Something must have happened to him. Aren’t you worried?”

“There’s always something happening to him! And I don’t even know where to begin. Last week he lost his car keys. The other week his mother was in town–he didn’t even bother to tell me. The other day he had diarrhea! You know what? That’s it! I have had enough! It’s over! I am breaking up with him!”

“Janice, don’t you think it’s too soon to break up with him? Give the guy a chance.”

After a moment of silence, Janice said, “You’re right. I should give him a chance to explain, and then I’ll kill him and dump him forever!”

She hailed a cab and went home.

Five hours later, as she was doing the dishes at home, the doorbell rang. It must be that stupid worm, she thought.

“If it’s him, tell him I don’t want to see him,” she told her brother who went out to get the door.

A minute later her brother called her to the living room. It wasn’t her boyfriend at the door, it was her friend–the one she was talking to on the phone earlier. With her was Janice’s boyfriend’s cousin and closest friend, John.

“Hi!” Her friend greeted her.

“Oh, hi. I thought it was him.” Janice looked at john and remarked, “Let me guess, he’s sorry? He doesn’t even have the decency to show his face or send some flowers.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see him? And you hate flowers,” Her brother commented.

She told her brother to shut up and leave.

“Are you still upset?” Her friend asked her.

“No, I’m not upset; I’m enraged,” she replied. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Well, I’m here to make sure you’re okay when John here tells you some news,” her friend replied.

“What? Tell me what? Is everything okay? Is it the worm?” She asked, her tone changing from anger to concern. “Oh my gawd. He’s dead, isn’t he? Oh my gawd.”

“He got into a brawl. Someone stabbed him and stole his phone,” John explained. His face became even sadder as he continued, “We tried to get him to the hospital, but he gave in on the way. He made me promise to come here myself to apologize.”

Janice was quiet. She sat down, numb. Her friend quickly sat beside her, concerned that Janice was not sobbing like a cow.

“You’re not upset?” She asked.

“The hell I am!” Janice retorted, bursting into bouts of tears. “I was supposed to be the one to kill him!”

Samuel

"it's fine to deviate"

They said to Samuel that it wasn’t all right to court her, a girl from a different background. It wasn’t that his family abhorred the girl’s religion and culture; it was more like they were afraid for him, scared something might happen to him if he assimilated with them, such as convert. But he loved her, and nobody could tell him what he could or could not do. He was his own man.

The moment he left the house, he was resolved to court her. The minute he got on the train, his parents called him on the mobile phone to dissuade him from pursuing her. As soon as he answered his phone, his father started yelling at him, and on the background he could hear his mother weeping. Why he had divulged to his intentions for the girl, he didn’t know. It was an impulse of the moment, a moment of rage brought on by an entirely different matter.

“I hope you’re not going to marry this girl, Samuel!” His father thundered. He had to distance his ear from the phone to avoid becoming deaf. But his father was talking so loud and his mother was crying so hard that their voices could be heard all over. He was suddenly embarrassed because the crowd in the train was looking at him.

“So what if I do?”

“I will disinherit you!” His father replied.

“You know what, I will marry her!” He said back and hung up. His cheeks burned with rage and embarrassment.

Yes, he was going to marry her. He had to. So what if the girl had a different religion? So what if she was different? He didn’t care about all that as long as he loved her and she loved him. Yes, he was going to marry her. He loved her, he was almost twenty, and he was rich–his savings had reached almost five thousand. Nothing was holding him back except his parents whom he could probably live without, considering that he have his monthly allowance and his savings.

Samuel got off at the next station and walked to school, hurrying more than usual. He wanted to catch his future wife, to talk to her, before his classes start. He took a shortcut through the trees and bushes of the big university garden, and as he emerged from the garden to the parking lot, he immediately spotted her walking along the sidewalk. He half-walked, half-sprinted towards her.

“Hi!” He said as he got to her, panting. The girl didn’t hear him and continued to walk on.

“Hi!” He said again more assertively as he kept up in step beside her. The girl turned to him and smiled brightly. She was so beautiful he almost choked as he tried to speak.

“What…err…what…are you…err…what are you doing tomorrow night?” He said, clearing his suddenly dry throat.

The girl looked around them as if trying to make sure if there was nobody else around. “Why do you want to know?” She finally asked, turning to Samuel.

“I err…I…I err…I was wondering if you wanted to go out…err…with me…err…like on a date,” he replied.

The girl looked taken aback at first, then her expression softened. Then she smiled and said, “That’s really sweet, err…what’s your name again?”

“Samuel.”

“Oh, right, Samuel. That’s really sweet of you, Samuel, but I really don’t know who you are, and I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me going out on dates with other guys. But thanks for asking.”