Détente
Posted on February 6, 2015 3 Comments
BLAM!
My bedroom door jangles, shaken to its hinges with the force of the slam.
“I hate you! You don’t understand anything!”
The Great Beyond
Posted on January 30, 2015 4 Comments
“One night the moon came galloping by
On a big horse right across the night sky
One night the moon came galloping by
Called all the dreamers to come for a ride”*
Blackness. Silence. Robbie scrunches further under his blankets, shores up the external pillow walls, and slaps his hands over his ears. He feels his stomach coiling in anxiety, sharp pains stretching out from its twisted centre. His ears, hot and sore from their fleshy earmuffs, still ring from the battle. Behind the door, an inferno of alcohol-fuelled rage and discontent contort his parents into vitriol spewing demons that pitch and claw at each other, shrieking their hatred, their unhappiness. Outside the window lies the Great Beyond.
Advance Australia Fair
Posted on January 28, 2015
The 26th of January is both Indian Independence Day and Australia Day. As someone of Indian descent, and Australian nationality, I face no conflict there. There is no tugging at my conscience to choose one country over the other, there is no struggle in embracing both celebrations equally. Both celebrations are about nationhood, the forging of a cultural identity, and those are such an essentially important concepts to me. So where does the conflict lie?
Unbroken Cycle
Posted on January 27, 2015 13 Comments
His long slender fingers rake through his dirty blonde locks, and Randy wonders briefly why his hair always has that slightly greasy look about it, even when freshly washed. The first glimmers of daylight peek tentatively over the horizon. Clipped moments strobe in his mind, snippets of events. Bodies shimmering with a patina of glitter, breasts and buttocks, full, and on display.
Rekindling
Posted on January 24, 2015 3 Comments
Scented candles ignite into life, filling the air with wisps of an ambiguous flower aroma as she holds the lit match to the wick. The label proclaims “Rose”, but it’s enigmatic enough to be mistaken for any flower. Red rose petals scatter across the white linened bed, and march neatly, crocodile-file into the bathroom. Malika rises from the corner of the bed, feels the pinch of her new $150 lace bra and knickers as they nip at her body, and shrugs on her thin looks-like-silk-but-isn’t robe. She strides, out of practice, in her black stiletto heels, dug up from a forgotten corner of her closet, part of her armour from a past life, well worn and permanently misshapen, to turn off the bath. He’s clearly not coming.
Rare Treasures
Posted on January 7, 2015 10 Comments
Goofing around at the Galveston Mardi Gras
Parenting teenaged boys is very like parenting toddlers. Or being trapped in a hall of mirrors. Neither adult, nor child, but both at once, they leap between fiery extremes, singeing me and leaving them confused.
Mornings are crammed with distractions and moving at glacial pace, while evenings are a tussle into bed, bathing-optional, clothes, the fallen soldiers strewn on the battleground of their bedroom floor, and emotions flung hither and thither on a hormonal bungee chord. Blue-blinking screens now replace the minutiae obsession of their toddlerhood. The tiny plastic accoutrement of Action Man, the pebble found, the filthy feather clutched possessively in chubby fingers, have given way to the phone or the game controller clenched in a vice-grip.
It’s Time
Posted on December 31, 2014 10 Comments
The year scuttles quickly to its close, scooping with it unintended victims that lie unknowingly in its path. I stand on the precipice of a new year, teetering uncertainly, vertiginous as I glare at the depth of the chasm before me. Just a trusting leap away, new ventures await, new pathways to be trod, new friendships to be made. Yet, I am loath to fold away the old-new friendships of two years, to origami them into an ideal as I wave farewell to those on their own journeys to different climes. Two families who played a pivotal role in our welcome, in establishing a community, stand ready to depart for the next step of their expat journey. Two women I have come to call sisters, will too soon be restarting lives a world away. I am bereft for myself, while simultaneously rejoicing for them.
Jane and Jen
Posted on December 31, 2014 8 Comments
We are Janus. We came into the world together, two faces one mind. I am she, and she is me. Our parents call us Jane and Jen, but they never know who they’re talking to. Jane and Jen born in June. We toy with them. We have played this game for as long as we can remember. We tried it first when we realised that they could not tell which of us was Jane and which Jen. Now, even they call us Janus.
The Gods of Thunder
Posted on December 28, 2014 3 Comments
Day 1: The thunder gods are angry. I can hear their rolling rumble, building to a climax of house-quaking booms. Everything pales next to their fearsome temper. Surely, they will punish our transgressions.
Asha Rajan 