Sunday, May 12, 2013


I had a dream that I had committed a hideous crime. Someone was murdered but I knew not who. Neither was I sure the victim was a man or a woman. All I knew was that I did the killing.

 I remember I used a pillow to cover the victim's face. I remember its desperate struggle for air, its strong resistance against my attack. Its  hard pushing and hitting at my arms continuously. Till its very last breath.

Now, the deep marks caused by its fingernails are clearly visible along the entire length of both my hands. The pain is annoying.

I remember dragging the body from the bed and putting it into a large black garbage bag. I dragged the bag out the front door of the house to my car. The street outside was completely deserted. Looking back over my shoulder, I realised that that wasn't my house from which I had just exited. Whose house was that, in which I had committed such a deplorable crime, I couldn't figure out.

 What was the reason for such an horrendous act, I simply had no clue.

The next thing I knew was that it was morning.  I was comfortably sleeping in my bed, in my home.

 There were several loud bangs on the front door. I crept out of bed, went to the window and peeped. As I lifted back the window curtain to have a better view, there at that instant came a severe pain in my arm. Immediately that brought back to my memory the killing  I did the night before.

 So, I guessed,  everything was real.

 So real.

From my window I could see five police officers dressed in darkest blue. Three of them were standing at my front door. The other two were examining my car, parked a few steps away. I noticed that one of them was attempting to open the booth with a jack. I remember I hid the body in the bag there. It was still there.

I didn't know what to do. Was it better to open the door or to run?

Before I could even think, my door was broken in and five officers stood before me with their pistols pointing at my head. I was pushed back against the wall.

One officer said something to me in an angry voice. I could hardly make out a word of what he said. As my eyes were glued to the window for I could see a body climbing out of the booth of my car.

Saturday, February 23, 2013


It is in the gathering of the faithful in the night before the procession,
 I see thousands of people reaching their hands out to touch the statue of Virgin Mary.

There are mothers, fathers and their children too
Many have come from afar. Like me, I do not belong here.
I am just passing through.

In fact, I am here in the city of Manila in the Philippines.
 Just wandering around the night market and quite by chance come upon
this magnifient cathedral built by the Spanish during colonial times.

Seeing the tears flowing down the cheeks of hundreds move one to tears as well.
I do not know why, though not much of a follower myself,
I just break down and cry.

A lady beside me says people come here tonight  for their blessings
People rich or poor, come without pride.
People kneeling to get in to get a glimpse of our holy mother
Such a joyful and wonderful sight.

That reminds me of a holy pilgrimage.
Far may one travel with one aim in mind.
To bow before the holy one despite the distance or the toil.

It could be the journey to Mecca
It could be the one to Santiago De Compostella
Could be the one to the birth place of Christ
Or even the one to the holy river of the Ganges
Whatever are your beliefs
Your blessings would be in abundance
Your prayers would be answered

I dare not doubt that as I watch the faithful here tonight.
I wish I am one.

Monday, February 18, 2013


If this is a dream I am in now
I don't want it to end
The reason is so plain
You are my only friend
When I awake next morning
Traces of my tears remain
For I know in this lifetime
I will not see you again.

True friends are hard to find
The reality in which I live now
Many come to watch you fail
Watch how low you can bow
Some that may come to help
You will understand why
So that they can despise you
So that they can watch you cry

If this is a dream I am in now
And you are with me still
I will try to stop the clock
And hold the night I will
The reason is so plain
I don't want this to end
For in this lonesome lifetime
You are my only friend.