Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The poverty wars

He likes to top my stories on how we often had to struggle to stay afloat while growing up. Its a game we sometimes play, one of those that serve no purpose whatsoever.
I tell him about how my mom sold all her jewelry so that we could get a decent education. He asks, "Your mom had jewelry??"

I tell him about how my mom used to buy the cheapest cloth that she could find and how she would sew identical dresses for me and my sisters, and how she was able to make us feel it was a privilege to have the same dress. He says, "Your mom owned a sewing machine??"

When I sometimes reminisce about the good old days when MTV played 'real' music, he says he wouldn't know, they only had cable TV in 2000, and colour TV in 2004. I tell him about how faded my school skirts and sweaters used to be, because we couldn't afford to buy new ones too often. He says he went to an important function wearing his school shirt and his father's old trousers because he didn't have decent clothes to wear.

I tell him to shut up; he doesn't.

Just one of those little games that lovers play that serve no purpose whatsoever, save for the fact that it reminds us how good it feels to have someone to tell your stories to.

Brandi Carlile- The Story. 

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Bay-beee!!

And comes that time of the month that I used to dread-
of failed romances, weight gain and mould growing on shoes;
When the days grow shorter
And the nights become way too, too long
and October-
of reconciliations- to romantic hurdles, to weight gain,
seemed too, too far away.

Youth was when I fought those changes-
Raged and screamed and sulked the month away.
Oh that seemed like a long way away,
For now September becomes me,
Or maybe its the other way round.
March to September hasnt been long at all in coming .

And yet, the month still looms long,
And I look forward once more to October.
And November would disappear after,
In my chase for old December.
30 days hath September,
And I'll spend all 30 days counting
And watching the leaves turn  gold-
Nah, I probably won't.

October has 31 days
And I'll spend a precious few with you.
October and December,
I'll spend them with you.

Some things never really change.