A bright but aged woman sits across from me holding a tiffin. She looks around the train cabin, perplexed and occasionally shuts her eye while inhaling deeply. She must be looking back at her life and memories, I whisper to myself. I suddenly notice a lanyard she wears around her neck; a phone number and an address is handwritten on the tag. Could that be where her home is? 

In case she forgets everything and loses her way?

Half a heart

You know you’re stuck in a rut when you start to count down to the end of everything. There is hardly anything you look forward to except (eternal) rest.

In this moment of weakness the past week, a timely reminder came to me on Facebook. My dearest grandfather passed away four years ago on this day. Indeed, I miss having someone to dote on me, someone to call me up to ask how I was doing, someone who would always crack jokes just to see me laugh and smile. Looking back, I can’t help but feel sad and grateful that I was on the receiving end of his selfless love. 

I know that he is somewhere watching over me. I also know that God is there watching over all of us. I hope they both see the man I’m trying to become. 

If I can give just half of the love that my grandfather had given me, to my loved ones I’d be happy.


It’s the same ritual every night

I lay in bed listening to heartbreak tunes

Humming my own words in half spite

One song to tide me over I try to craft my own

Not sure if I should write about what I know

I don’t even know what I know

Going round in circles that’s your style

I think of what we could be

Your honey, baby or just plain happy

Am I doing this right?

I’m just saying what’s on my mind

For your love I’ll continue to fight

May I never think that I have everything figured out and set in life. There’s always something else I need to learn; to see; to respect; to love and to appreciate.