The Flashbacks



We were looking at each other, sweetly smiling. 

He took my hand. I was glad. 

The smile never disappeared from our faces. 

That innocent smile we did have in the past. 

The happiness we shared. 

I opened my eyes with a gasp. 

I can’t tell if those were dreams or flashbacks. 

I have actually forgotten about him. 

Now I get reminded. 

Our smiles. 

Our song. 

Our love. 

They were real. 

In the past. 

Once something happens, it stays true forever. 

We loved. 

We did. 


The Foot Drill



The alarm clock goes off. 
He, one of the many hes and shes, gets up. 
He takes a cold shower. 
He brushes his teeth. 
He pulled on a plain white shirt. 
He puts on a pair of black trousers. 
He secures the trousers with an even blacker belt. 
He combs his hair from the forehead to the back. 
He gets some hair gel and combs again, and again, and again – until all the hair is stiffened. 
He takes his bag. 
He leaves home. 
There are some other hes and shes on the street. 
They do not greet each other. 
They walk in the same direction. 
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
He arrives at the station. 
He goes to the same store. 
The sandwich he usually gets is out of stock. 
Doesn’t matter. They all taste the same. 
He grabs a sandwich. 
He puts the sandwich into his mouth. 
He bites. 
He chews. 
He swallows. 
The train comes. 
He gets in. 
He grabs the hand rail. 
He falls asleep standing. 
He wakes up. 
He alights. 
There are some other hes and shes on the street. 
They do not greet each other. 
They walk in the same direction. 
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
He accesses a building, one of the many buildings, with his access card. 
He goes through the gate. 
The security guards stare at him. 
He does not stare back. 
He stops in front of the elevator door. 
There are some other hes and shes. 
They do not greet each other. 
They all look up and wait for the floor number to go down. 
The elevator door opens. 
Everybody squeezes themselves in. 
He stands in the centre, surrounded by hes and shes. 
It is so crowded. 
Nobody says a word. 
The elevator door opens. 
He walks out. 
He walks past hundreds of cubicles. 
Grey cubicles. 
A chubby man appears from round a cubicle. 
He sees the man. 
He slows down. 
He nods when he whispers ‘uh’. 
The chubby man speaks in an emotionless tone, ‘meeting in 10.’ 
He whispers another ‘uh.’ 
The man watches him as he continues walking. 
He finds his grey square in the jungle. 
He puts down his bag. 
He sits down. 
Now he can see nothing but grey partitions and a grey monitor. 
And dozens of yellow post-its stuck around the monitor. 
And stacks of paper sheets. 
On which are tables containing tiny figures. 
The numbers mean nothing to him. 
Tik. Tak. Tik. Tak. Tik. Tak. 
He never looks away from the meaningless numbers. 
He did not realise it was late until some of the lights are switched off. 
‘Uh,’ he whispers. 
He stands up and sees the cubicle jungle. 
He cannot see anybody though most of the lights are still on. 
He takes his bag. 
He starts to walk out of the jungle. 
The chubby man appears from nowhere. 
The man glares at him. 
He does not look. 
He keeps walking. 
The man watches him as he walks to the elevator door. 
He looks up to wait for the floor number to go up. 
He steps in. 
He steps out. 
He arrives at the station. 
He gets on the train. 
He finds a seat. 
He falls asleep. 
He wakes up. 
He alights. 
He walks home. 
He arrives. 
He drops his bag. 
He takes off his shirt and trousers. 
He lies down. 
He closes his eyes and weeps.

The Contentment



‘You can’t do it. No chance at all.’
I didn’t make eye contact.
I focused and kept on trying.
‘I told you you can’t!’
That didn’t make it through my ears to my brain.
Not long after that, I succeeded.
Time for eye contact.
I locked my eyes on his stunned face,
With a triumphant smile.
He sighed.
My grin grew wider. 

The Opposite Theory



The wind in my ears while cycling is serenity.
The one who smiles the warmest at me is the most evil.
The friendship I trusted genuinely is an illusion.
Compliments are given to me not because they want to praise me but because they want to make the other person looks comparatively inferior.
Education is but an entry ticket; what you really need to know and understand is out there in the real world.
At a job interview you go to, you
are not the only interviewee. That is actually a mutual interview.
The strongest material breaks; the softest material bends.
The simplest food cooked by the simplest method is gourmet.
The hardship I am enduring right now in this seemingly dead end guides and leads me to my ultimate goals.
Dreams are not dreams. They are tangible and reachable.
‘Whatever you think, think the opposite’