Reflections...

What good is it living life as though you are only a heartbeat? A heartbeat which beats according to the same rhythm everyday from your first breath to your last? Do you expect anyone to remember who you are before you fall to your demise? Will your demise be tragic at all? Suppose your life was " paused " and you were grabbed by a reasonably well-presented individual (obviously with a remote control). You notice that he is holding a small notepad and pen which he then offers to you. With a puzzled look on your face, you simply revert your gaze back to him. He looks back to the scene in front of you and presses the " rewind " button on his remote control. When you look back, you notice a small little baby lying down and starring upwards. You observe the scenery around you and notice someone who looks similar to your parents. As you observe the family interaction, you suddenly realise that this little baby is you. Having never seen yourself as a baby in action,...

It’s rush-hour, every hour, in her head:  Always lost in the past, or worried for the future. The gift of the Present becoming rapidly estranged. Veira believes her life was full of one-ways: All detours and backroads led to quarrelsome chaos.. Her head was stuck in first gear, afraid of stalling, With monotonous tracks on repeat played as background noise. Veira’s heart was the occasional drably-dressed hitchhiker: She was never sure when to open her door to it, Since she was many a time disillusioned by its disloyalty. For Veira, words were many and sense was sparse. Like a twisted treeline of incomplete motorways, All leading to one destination: hodgepodge porridge. She never found herself, except out of gas in the fast lane, And she never quite understood why. At standstill moments, Veira’s head drifted to a place: A farfetched longwinded road which she believed to be fulfilment. Alas, many a time she allowed the mist and fog to fool he...