Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Sunday, October 27, 2013

. 17.07.13 the Journalist .

  My friend was an investigative journalist, who had been working on his latest scoop for the longest time. He knew that some people were after him. He was the target of a lot of powerful and dangerous people, as he wrote amazing pieces on human rights and the freedom of people from the oppressing governments around the world. Sadly he was assasinated/murdered while working on his latest job. I had some of his worknotes and discovered that he mentioned the people he suspected were onto him; two aliases by the names of Rapier and Hyena. But what my Dream is mainly about is what happened after his death.

  Before his death, he recorded a series of videos of his family, his closest friends, all his loved ones, which he made into a documentary. The documentary was aired after his imminent death and we all watched it. When it showed on TV, I was watching it with my dad. It looked as if he was filming his own birthday party, with his voice spoke in the background, "This is my beautiful mother - This is my baba (father) - And this is my good friend, Yaqeen. He always wants to be the first to welcome me and hold my hand during celebrations," to which the friend in the screen laughed. Everyone looked so happy, for he was considered a hero in his country. No one looked like they knew they were celebrating the last birthday of his life.

  My friend always wrote poems, mostly about his life, his family, and his home, Kashmir. In my Dream, his compilation of poetry was voted number#1 in the newspapers list of top most read literature, after the premier of his documentary. His documentary, upon its release, became number 9 in the list of most watched documented media of the week and won an international award. My greatest surprise was the mail I recieved after I finished watched TV. I couldn't watch the film till the end, it was too sad. My heart ached every time I recalled the smiling faces of his parents.

  Looking through today's mail, I noticed an important-looking envelope addressed to me. I opened it up and found that it was some kind of will. In the will, my friend had entrusted to me a certain amount of money. Accompanying the will was a letter personally written by him, thanking us and hoping that the money could help us with whatever problems we had with our families. He asked us to take care of our families while we still had the chance. He had given most of his savings to his family and distributed it among his closest friends. He also donated to different charities and organizations. I cried, still holding onto the envelope, pressing it close to my chest. My heart cried, sincerely missing such a good person and friend, who died doing what he loved and protecting those he loved.


Sorry if this Dream was short and perhaps not as whimsical as some of the others, but this was a really sad Dream for me to remember and write down because knowing this friend in real life, it sounded like it was something he would really do. May God protect him and bless him for what he's done, and for being such a good friend and man to begin with.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

. 27.11.12 the suitors .


  It’s the late 1900’s, like a set straight out of Pride and Prejudice and I am a Bystander in this Dream. There’s a dinner party going on and the center of attention is a lovely lady with dark hair in a pearl coloured gown. She in enchanting and is the focus of all men around her, especially these two. One had silver hair, tied into a neat ponytail, and was dressed in rich, navy blue attire with golden trimmings. Compared to the other gentleman, he looked like he was of the higher social status. The other man was just as handsome, had dark brown hair tied into a ponytail as well, though it was a little shorter. His clothes were rich as well, but plain in comparison to the first gentleman.

  For simplicity’s sake, I’ll name the two men. The one with white hair will be Frederick and the one with brown hair will be David. Frederick was an aristocrat who had his eyes on the lovely lady for a while and has asked her hand for marriage once, but she had turned him down. However that didn’t stop him from seeing her every chance he got. He attended social gatherings and dinner parties, only if she was too invited. Unknown to him, the reason she rejected him the first time was because she had already her heart set on a childhood love, David.

  David was from a wealthy family too but was a working man and earned his living, while Frederick was born from old money. He and the girl knew each other for longer a time than Frederick. Frederick was always wary of David, but he was envious of anyone was closer to the lady than he was. That dinner party however, David made a special announcement. He proposed to the girl there and then and, flustered and blushing, the girl accepted. Everyone cheered and was overjoyed, and congratulated the two. And Frederick seethed in a corner by himself.

  The Dream then shifts and takes us to another time where Frederick is with David, alone in a library or study room. This is where David tells Frederick of his story, of how he and the girl were friends from childhood and how naturally their love for one another blossomed. It was obvious to David that Frederick was jealous, as they bantered sarcastic remarks over petty, unrelated issues. But what he didn’t know was how well Frederick’s hatred had rooted every since the night of the dinner party. David was too proud over the fact that he had won her hand instead, but he failed to remain alert. As they bantered, David stayed seated in the comfortable armchair while Frederick walked idly about the bookcases around the room.

  Where he was able to point a pistol at David’s head and shoot him point-blank from behind.

Jealousy and hate make men into terrible things. This was just so sad, I don’t even know. I bet Frederick went insane and got himself caught and thrown into an asylum, where he grew into a psychotic, fuelled by the delusion that he’ll have the girl fall in love with him no matter what the cost. God, that’d make a creepy movie. Wonder if it’s already been done before...

Thursday, April 11, 2013

. 24.08.12 a girl in a grey world .


  If the world were a colour, it would be grey. Well, it’s not really grey. But for this girl, it was. She was an odd little girl in an odd little world. Well, she wasn’t really little, nor was the world she woke up in. But one thing was true, it was all very odd.

  When she woke up, she wasn’t really lying down. She was standing up straight and felt a bit disorientated, as if she had fallen in a daze in the middle of the corridor. She can’t remember where she was or how she got there in the first place. And everywhere around her was very strange and unfamiliar. The decrepit structure of the buildings, the damp, grungy decor and the foreign smells thick in the atmosphere; it was not a pleasant place to be, but the girl was not frightened.

  As she explored the place, she found her reflection in a large, piece of mirror shard, sticking out like a jagged piece of ruin. She seemed like the only thing in the world with colour. Her short hair and top were a bright, dark pink, almost a magenta shade. Her skin was porcelain white, with a blush of colour on her cheeks, like a doll. Her pants and knee-length boots were black as tar, and so were her eyes. But her eyes had pink pupils in the middle, like buttons.

  Not a moment too soon after inspecting herself in the shard did she hear a strange sound. Further down the corridor she spots a large frog-like creature. Or maybe it was a child. Perhaps it was both. Its skin was swamp-green and it was hopping about like a frog, but there was something child-like or impish about his face. Whatever it was, it seemed like the only moving creature besides her. In a lonely grey world with nothing to do, she follows it through the maze of the worn-down building. The creature bounced off the walls as the girl nonchalantly followed. It seemed as if it wanted to be followed because whenever the girl stopped and took her time to inspect something, the frog-imp-child would wait for her close by.

  Through corridors and corridors, the girl passed by shadows and old ghosts and people whom she was sure were no longer people; all residents of this forgotten grey world. The girl found a staircase and was enticed to go downstairs to see where it led. But she heard someone coming up the stairs. It was a woman singing. Suddenly fear overtook the magenta-haired girl and she hid around the corner. From a safe corner, she saw the woman’s black gown trailing behind her as she sang softly, but cheerily. She was dressed in all black, like a mourner’s gown, with a long, black-laced veil covering her face. The atmosphere was eerie and cold and for the first time, the girl was frightened. She went to look for the frog-child.

  Finally the girl sees a curtain at the end of a large hallway, with bright light creeping in through the gaps and moth-bitten holes. Without hesitation, she pushes through the curtain and her eyes are blinded, for a moment, by a vast spectrum of colours. She finds herself in the outside world. She looks up to the blue, azure sky and she can feel the warm sunlight on her porcelain skin, still feeling cold from the grey world behind her. She finds herself standing on a patio garden, with greenery of all kinds in pots of different shapes. On the wooden floor and a number of them handing above her head. Some of them even had flowers and they were a beauty for her button eyes to behold.

  Just then, she feels arms wrap around her and someone is hugging her from behind. The girl hears a voice speaking, saying things like ‘how much I’ve missed you’ and ‘it’s good to see you again’. The girl turns around and she stares into the chocolate eyes of another girl, not much older than she was. She had brown hair and was dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. She looked at the girl as if she were expecting a response to the warm welcome. The magenta-haired girl looked confused at the stranger and asked, “And you are...?”

  And the girl with chocolate eyes was stunned. “Don’t you remember me, Magenta? It’s me! You do remember me, don’t you?” A second later a lifetime of memories flooded the girl’s mind, shocking and terrifyingly abrupt. The girl with chocolate eyes was just a child when Magenta came into her life. Woven by threads of dreams and wishes of friendship, Magenta was brought to life by the little artist and her world of crayons and bright paint. Whenever she needed a muse or a friend, Magenta was always there for her. But one day, the artist fell ill for the longest time and her world of colour was turning pale from malnourishment.

  Months passed and the girl remained in a coma, and unconsciously sought dreams from everywhere else except her own. But though Magenta was almost forgotten, she never left her little artist. She remained in limbo, where she awaited her canvas world to be restored to life. But after a while, Magenta lost her memory and wandered through limbo aimlessly, constantly forgetting what and who she was and what and who she was supposed to be. Finally the day came when the artist awoke. And she sought to find her muse once more. “I’m sorry. I never intended to forget, especially you.” Magenta replied as she hugged her artist tight, “You never forgot me. Your heart remembered. You were always there, while I was the one who lost memory of my master.” And painted on her porcelain face was a smile.

This was a sweet story with loads of abstract concepts, but I loved it to bits. I especially liked how blur and nonchalant Magenta turned out to be. There are still a few things I didn’t get, like who the frog-child and the lady-in-black were supposed to represent. After all the grey world is actually the grey matter in the artist-girl’s head. I love the special relationship the artist has for her muse, like she really loves her and protects her, because she has been a part of her ever since she was created. And now reunited they can make worlds again <3>

Saturday, February 23, 2013

.: just for us :.

Aster and Fou; Dream 29.03.09

Just thought I'd post up this recent illustration I did of two characters from a Dream long, long ago. One of the earliest Dreams I blogged about even. When I first wrote down the details of what went on in my bobble-of-a-head, the story was not smooth, characters were intangible, things shifted and disappeared and just like any Dream, most of it didn't make any sense. So I rewrote it as a real, concrete story, at the same time experimented with a writing style and plot that still left it vague and surreal. I call it 'Just for Us'.

Enjoy~ And as always, feedback is always appreciated~

Thursday, February 21, 2013

.: late for valentines as well :.

Blueberry and Lime celebrate another Valentines day.

Might as well be late for this one too.
But anyway, don't just save your 'I love Yous' for Valentines day.
You should say it more often, 365 days a year! Why wait?

*~* Hope yall had a great Valentines this year *~*