The World of Tai Tai

He smiles, hands on the steering wheel, one foot on the gas pedal, propelling the car forward.  Bound and gagged, all I can do is look on.                                   He drives on, hardly looking at me, humming snatches of songs. Suddenly, he has changed direction. The car makes an oblique rise, and then down it goes. Both of us jerk forward. The road curb is gone. We  are going down a slope, where the sea beckons far below.  I struggle, trying to free myself. I shout, but nothing comes out. My husband and two children....do they know of my whereabouts?  My fear forms into something gooey which fills every part of my brain, limbs and stomach. Hours before, I had been doing my laundry. The bell rang, and I opened the door, shocked to see him outside. `What are you doing here?" I said. We had...

He smiles, hands on the steering wheel, one foot on the gas pedal, propelling the car forward . And I,  tied to the seat, mouth stuffed, and body strapped to the seat, keep fixating my eyes on him. He drives on, hardly looking at me, humming snatches of songs, and suddenly, he has changed direction. The car makes an oblique rise, and then down it goes. Both of us jerk forward. The road curb's gone. We  are going down a slope, towards its end, where the sea beckons far below.  I wriggle, trying to get myself free, but to no avail. I shout, but what comes out is only a tiny muffled sound. My husband and two children come into my mind. Have they been informed about my kidnap? The anxiousness in my heart is multiplying. It forms into something gooey, so viscous that it begins to fill every part of my brain, my limbs and my entrails. My bladders almost burst. Hours before that, I had been doing my laundry. The bell rang, and I opened the door, shocked to see him outside. `...

He smiles, hands on the steering wheel, one foot on the gas pedal, propelling the car forward . And I,  tied to the seat, mouth stuffed and sealed, keep fixating my eyes on him. He drives on, hardly looking at me, humming snatches of songs, and suddenly, he has changed direction. The car makes an oblique rise, and then down it goes. Both of us jerk forward. The road curb's gone. Unsteadily we  are going down a slope, towards its end. I wriggle, trying to struggle free, but to no avail. I shout, but what comes out is only a muffled sound. Hours before that, I had been doing my laundry. The bell rang, and I opened the door, shocked to see him outside. We had had a split, and I had thought time had washed away our pain. He lunged forward and pinned me down. After gagging me, he carried me down on his shoulder, oblivious to my struggling. In what-seemed -to-not-like his car, I was strapped onto the front seat with tape. He enjoyed the pleading look on my face, flicked my nose and...

No, hold it, please! She begged. Then, blow after blow of punches hit her body,  crushing her body and her spirits. He said he loved her, yet treated her with hostility. Every time, a fight erupted without any sign, when she mentioned something that was the least provocative. He would punish her, beat her until his wrath was all spent and he would leave her weeping in silence. Two hours passed. Her tears had long been dry. She thought over and over again. All that had to come to an end. He was sleeping, shirtless，only in a brief, like a child. His muscles were all relaxed, and his chest was pulsing to his heartbeat  She packed a few of her stuff, and left with a half-filled luggage bag on her back. She had had enough. All those four years of misery. Walking in the street, her footfalls were at first heavy,  but after quite sometime, became light. She was leaving that place. And facing her was a dawning light.

Curiosity overtakes me, making me unaware that the schoolbag is half-dangling from my back. The ants, the subject of my fancy, are moving in a trail along the road. Athai is standing next to a pile of wood. Her eyes are looking into space. For days she has been like that. Mama, busy washing the dishes, is oblivious to what we have been doing. Lunch was over. And I had only taken a few spoonfuls of rice and dhal curry. Then, I saw the ants. A trail of them by the roadside. Except for mama washing the dishes, there is no other noise. Athai is in a daze. I peer at her over my shoulder. There seems to be a glint in her left eye. And crumpled in her hands is a note. Athai is forteen, seven years older than I am. She was not like that  a few month ago. A group of workers came with tools. Mama said they would be repairing the road. For weeks they had been working with dilligence. But then, at the end of that month, the youngest of them seemed to take an interest in her. Athai,at fir...

Rubble- broken plasters , broken bricks,  broken beams. Help has come, but it is tentative. He staggers to the large confusion of mess, and picks up a few bricks.There is a lump in his throat. His eyes are glazed over. Sometime ago they were fine. Now, however, they are gone under the rubble. All sorts of voices burst around him, but most want to search for the trapped ones. The Help team pulls the panicking crowds back, lest they should add more weight of agony to the victims below. Some fights have erupted but they soon die down. Stupor takes over. She is below.  Where are her daughter n two sons.? Everything has gone down. She pushes. She cries for his name. She prays. The air below is thining. All that repeats itself all over again each time she awakes，until her faculties are gradually shutting down. Suddenly, she feels herself lightened n up she goes, over the rubble, over the surrounding people. She sees him, doubled over, sobbing in his hands. She reaches out...

Two hands emerged from behind, and caressed his face.His eyes widened. His body stiffened. Cold slid down along his spine. The next day, he went to work as usual. But there was spring in his step. She had noticed that. There was something different in him. The swiftness. Oh, look at his waist. It seems to have reduced. He attacked whatsoever task with more vigour. He was fresh. He was new. Two days before he had been different. He had been beset with stress. He had wanted to quit. Now, he was full of optimism. Kind of good, but she sensed something not right. Jovian retreated to the kitchen, and made himself a drink. He knew what Margaret was thinking . He recalled what had happened that night, when he had been in the t hroes of despair. The two hands had appeared from behind and given him the shock of his life. It had been a strange woman. She had said she could buy all his troubles. He had given her some doubting look, but wavered at the sureness on her face . He remembered...

Through her eyes the stars were swimming. They were fragments of rocks. Rocks floating about. She had been floating for quite a while.  Her eyes did not fathom anything she saw. Strong winds pulled at the thin flannel of her dress. The drug must have kicked in. It gradually blurred all her senses n caused her to hallucinate. In the beginning, she had entered a dark tunnel. Next, she had been sucked into a bright light. Then, she had found herself adrift in the limitless expanse of  galaxy. She decided to close her eyes. But when she did, all of her past seemed to be playing in a loop - from the very moment she had been birthed, the day she had cut her finger, to the night when she had tiptoed past her father's bedroom, and then back to the moment of her coming into this world. Suddenly, she experienced a jerk, so fast that she had no time to shout. She felt herself expanding, disintegrating, becoming part of the stars, part of the milky way.

A strike Followed by some sparks And some smoke Produces a flame A stick of flame Such a glory Such a sight A new life A new hope Fleeting But impactful .

Mean Gingerly, cautiously I am treading on the ground Feeling its squelchiness Its precariousness And its unevenness. I am left with no choice. There is no turning back. Which means...... I have to continue negotiating the terrain. Feeling its volatileness, its tempest, N the unknown future ahead.

Your spirit Your innerself Your intraself Launch, launch them Let the world know you Let the world feel you And let the world respect you When they are no more, Let the world weep for you Let the world build a statue for you And launch it for the world to idolise.

In darkness, My steps sucking from squelchy ground My breathing labouring from putrid smells My sight weakening from all the blurriness. Inch, I inch forward Towards the end A door that emits A little light. I reach it. Relieved. No! A wall over me. Tears spill out. But my fight is not over yet. Gathering all my strength From nothingness. I clamber through And find myself Facing a new realm. Inch, I inch forward Inhaling fresh air Seeing a wider view Hearing bird songs. I inch more, feel more. IT is worth the whole journey All the effort, Dead is my past, And alive is my present, And my future.

The crossbar is high But I believe I can clear it I get ready run semi circle Gradually gaining momentum When near the target I jump, jump As high as I can I land on my back On the bed of cushion And the bar Remains unstirred. But I am not happy Because I made a jump below That bar.

Red My eyes My temper My lust Are all red Are all fiery And would you please Stay away from me? I need to attend to All my redness. Let me be alone.

He finally received a garland. I asked myself if  I knew the person. He had passed on, leaving me alone with a boy. There would be many lonely days and nights ahead. I added more notes for him. One by one, fire ate them. Smoke permeated the air. Yes, someone had given him the flowers. But I did not know the name. . There was no one in the hall  save the two of us.  At the front his picture stood, in his hat, smiling. We were on one side, with our heads bent low. After tonight, after the funeral, I had to make myself braver in fording all the challenges. In my hands was a letter. It had come with the flowers. A few words were scrawled on it - Be wary for the bygone, for it haunts. I did not know what it meant. What Ernest had done. Whatever. Revenge, retribution, how you wanted to name it. I didn't care. I just wanted tonight to be quickly over and done with.

After drying her face, Ajimah hanged the towel on a hook, and decided to resume her reading.  She picked up a book and continued where she had bookmarked. Half way through, she stopped, and checked behind her pants. Inside the pocket she could feel something. She tucked in her fingers and pulled out the mysterious object. Her eyes dilated. It was a carrot. A mini, dehydrated carrot. Her thoughts started wandering. On her way back from town four hours before, she did not remember if anyone had pushed it inside her back pocket. She frowned. Just as she was about to throw it out of the window, a distant memory struck her. Many years ago,  her high school classmate, Ahmeer,  one of her admirers, had shown her a mini carrot. In answer to her doubting look, he had said, ' The next time you see it, it would be twenty years from now. It means I will not be far from you.' But three days later, Jack had died from an accident. A speeding car had run him over. She had soon forgo...

Fadzul decided to buy it as a gift. Ning happened to pass by , and saw how he instructed the shopkeeper to wrap it, and then walked out of the shop with the gift in his hand. ' Hey,' Ning said. ' What is the gift? ' Fadzul had a start. He looked sideways at her. A busybody. He pursed his lips and  gave her a look of rebuke . 'Come on,' Ning persuaded.' who is the lucky girl?' Fadzul sighed. ' Well, you are right. It's for a girl.' Fadzul did not look back, and took out the remote switch of his car. Yeah, it was for Zubaidah. She would be surprised. As for the others, they did not deserve to know why he had bought it. Today was a special occasion for her. At her house, Zubaidah filled a glass with water for Fadzul. He tilted it down and after a slight pause, handed her the gift. Zubaidah was bewildered, and she made a dry laugh. 'Why? It's not even my birthday.' 'Open it and see.' She obliged and after some tea...

Ning finally reached home, and plomped all her shopping on a table. How dreary!. How she wished in an instant, life would change. She took out what she had bought one by one. First, a broccoli. What could she do with it? Blanch it as usual, and mix with a knob of buttter? Next, she drew out a nail clipper. She had bought it in a whim. All because on the lever it had almost the same pattern as the favourite umbrella she had lost - whirls of flowers against a pink background. She had prized the umbrella,  carrying it with her wherever she had gone to. It had been a gift from her granny.  One day, before entering a changing room, she had hooked it at the doorknob outside. But by the time she had finished trying out a skirt n come out, it had disappeared without a trace. She studied the design, and her eyes moisted. Did the person who had taken it know how much it had meant to her? Sighing, with a click she put down the nail clipper, and strided towards the kitchen with the b...

Lying on bed, her eyes were wide-open. She couldn't sleep. There were many problems on her mind.  He heard her stir. So he turned to her, and asked, 'unable to sleep again?' Squarely she met his gaze. In his eyes she could tell how concerned he was. She rested her head on his chest, and brushed its hair with her hand. She decided not to tell him. Those problems were beyond him, and no matter what, she should handle them alone. He could smell her hair. That soft scent. And her body. He could smell something unique on her, as he always had. She wore no perfume. Yet, there was a slight flowery smell on her, which both mystified and aroused him. She could feel his breathing quickened. She knew he wanted her. But she was not in the mood. Avoiding the pressing lips, she finally gathered enough courage, and said,`Ming, it's not fair. I should tell you something.' Ming gave her a weird look. She struggled to sit upright. Resolute writ large on her face. 'I'm ...