A Coffee Moment

A Coffee Moment, originally uploaded by Chitra Aiyer.

Bittersweet the memories are

A cup of coffee
can mean so much
and so little

A nodding acquaintance,
a lover who could not give more
a parent left behind

The joy in the deep brown always endures
You can immerse yourself in the aroma

Learning how to live
Is a coffee moment.....

porta do céu, originally uploaded by zenog.

The Queen walked down the path
It bristled green
The insects scrunched under her feet as she walked
She was tipsy – the gin had been a bit too much for her

She swayed a bit – the afternoon sunshine was gentle on her face
The path seemed to wind on forever
But it had been a blissful morning
Full of bright laughter and happiness radiating from all the faces

Well she knew they would not be happy forever
The gin had contributed to that slightly giddy feeling

The gate was almost upon her…

Some lagers can cause all the trouble

Portishead, Bristol.

The day had begun innocently enough. He was 15. His Dad had done the runner ages ago. His Mom didn't care a piss about him. The slapper was sitting cozy in Scotland with that wanker! And of course his bro, cuzz me, the half-brother...the dirty filthy copper, what a tosser he was!

He opened the fridge and there sat the lagers waiting for him. 3 perfect lagers - cold and the taste just the right hint of bitter. He didn't think too much about it- just grabbed them off the shelf and ran off to meet Jimmy. Jimmy was his best mate- always ready for taking the piss.

Jimmy met him near the corner store run by the currywalahs. The smell permeated the whole street. Every time, he entered the shop, he tried to nick something. They always knew he stole things but were afraid of him - the blue eyes always glittered in contempt . The brown eyes didn't have the strength to match the sneer etched permanently on the chicken pockmarked face.

Jimmy saw the lagers in his hand and knew that today would be a good day. They both ran towards their favourite hangout - the parapet near Mrs Brown's house- where they sat and stared at all the posh girls from the private schools. Taunting remarks from the parapet were always met with studied silence from the girls.

They started on the first of the cans, gulping it down with relish. 20 minutes was all it took. The cans lying abandoned on the road - not even an attempt to place them in the garbage bin near Mrs Brown's house.

They were walking down the street - happy- the lager lay warm in their stomachs- when they heard the first of the sirens wailing....

This not-so-good story was inspired by a true life story which be read here. Some of the slang which I had forgotten comes from here.

The beginning of the saga

His smoking hot whisky eyes

That was the first thing she had noticed and the quick grin of course

The rain was pouring down in sheets and she thought,

‘What a quirk of fate, I seem to meet my destiny every time it rains!’

Her car had stalled – something or the other had given up its life

She was sitting all alone – feeling the loneliness coming off in waves

She heard a quick tap

And fate she smiled her wicked grin

Irene rolled down the window pane

40 years blurred in her gaze

Looking into Iyer’s eyes

And his story well now that makes a separate rhyme….

Iyer and Irene

From much before and for ever after

Irene blazed her wordy guns at Iyer’s accent

Iyer disdained to reply

He looked away and sniffed at the air

Asked, ‘Where is my thair sadam?’

The smile that lit Irene’s face

Equivalent to a thousand candles it was

She stopped, looked at him and

Decided to end the battle as it were

‘That my love, you’ll have to make

For yourself’, said she.

‘I intend to have my whisky first’

In married life continues Iyer and Irene's saga

A small episode

Her hair fell softly on her brow but the malevolent smile that twisted her face would have done the Dark Lord proud. She inched softly and surely towards the sacrifice waiting at the far end of the hall. The victim was unaware that her brains would be smashed to smithereens with a silver bullet. The Nazgoid-277 was built to destroy the scum that walked her planet in the name of human beings. It was a weapon, pure and pure - built for one purpose only - annihilation.

Her footsteps echoed eerily in the vast cavern of the corridor. Her silver jumpsuit glittered- it was meant to accentuate every inch of her figure. The victim would be a willing one.

She stopped at the anointed one's door and knocked. A screen fell across her face - charming smile, blue eyes heightened by the tension. She waited. The door opened. An abyss stared back at her. Her head spun. Her reflection looked at her and asked, 'So you have come finally?' Then without a trace of irony, 'It does feel like I have been waiting for millennia.'

The Nazgoid-277 slipped from her hand in slow motion. It hit the carpeted floor with barely a thud. The bullets seemed to discharge of their own volition destroying the perfect face in the mirror. The reflection wavered for a minute or two before vanishing. Its purpose had been served.