Gift of Love

Wishing everyone a blessed Christmas and an inspiring year ahead.

 

Heavenly Love

Wishing one and all a blessed Christmas of joy and peace, and a beautiful new year. Featuring the lovely painting by Kok Tuck Chong from Mouth and Foot Painting Artists.

 

Clothes Maketh A Man

Outside the wind threatened with the prophecy of a storm. Halfway through my shirt, she came in and sat by.

As I finished with the final button, she stood up and came towards me. Instinctively I drew her into my arms and kissed her on her lips. She laughed and pulled away in a tease. Running her eyes down my torso, she gave me an approving nod.

“Clothes indeed maketh a man.”

Before she went further, I pulled her back in.

“Yes, but actions maketh a man more.”

Love to You

Amused by a muse.

I watched her as she stepped out of the shower, hair tousled and a huge towel wrapped around her body. She came towards me, that slight smile at the corner of her mouth. I sat up in bed, slightly amused at the wicked glint in her eyes.

“Yes?”

“I want to ask you a question.” She got back in bed beside me, throwing out the towel from under the sheets with aplomb. I raised an eyebrow as she draped my arm around her.

“What’s the question?” Her body was cold, drawing warmth from mine.

“What is love to you?” The breath from her lips caressed my ear in a tingling sensation and I turned to gaze into her eyes. Her lips were a natural shade of pout and I remembered the taste of her tongue in my mouth.

“Love is a stirring, an impulse. A force, a sort of strength. It works in mysterious ways, quickening hearts, planting desires. It nourishes like the softest rain to the flowers, it destroys equally well.”

“It is the rise and fall of your body against mine, as night grows light. And it’s the imprint of you always, in my mind.”

Guest Post: A First Tindering

A fellow writer friend mused on his first Tinder experience and I asked if I could share it so here it is.

I finally made a profile after much hesitation – to “see how it goes” – and I was rather overwhelmed it exceeded 99 likes after one day of signing up. Now I no longer know the actual count unless I go for Tinder Gold. Being the introvert I am, I’ll pass.

Today I swiped a few more ladies, and accidentally swiped a few DARN YOU TINDER but after recovering from my head spinning from all the different profiles, it is time to make a list of turn-offs from my male perspective:

1. The super flawless photos – well not really a turn-off but you make us feel insecure. Worse if you say things like “Show some respect you stupid egg.” or “Don’t waste my time.” We understand the no ONS/FWB/DTF but rudeness, oh the irony.

2. The snapchat filters – you think the sparkly glitter and doggy filters make you cuter. They don’t. They’re just distracting us.

3. Tits and asses – yes some guys are looking for those, but seriously, we don’t want our future gf/ wife flashing her jugs to the whole world.

4. Doll-like filters – think goldfish eyes and tiny jaws with surreal red lips in nymph-like poses accentuating the items in #3. Which brings me to the next point.

5. Super-unnatural poses – when you contort your body in attempts to be sultry or sexy but it does not turn out like that. You could just, show us a nice silhouette of your ass if you like, that’s simple enough for the male brain to process and less horrific.

6. Super-long bios – it’s nice to be authentic and sincere, but some of us get lost in the paragraphs of words, especially if it looks like CV content. BUT, if the first few lines get our attention for being witty and make us smile, we will likely be hypnotised to read the whole thing and swipe you right. Hit us or miss us.

7. “If it matters” – we don’t get the point of including this behind the info you include. Like, we already read what you said and whether it mattered or not, it’s already gone in. Don’t disclaimer yourself, you are more confident than that.

8. “Don’t worry I won’t bite” – uh really? Or do you mean you won’t swipe?

9. “Give me your best pickup line” – what does this prove? How intelligent we are? How much memory power we have? Or whether we have access to Google at that moment?

So what sort of profiles could turn us on? I can’t say for the rest but personally:
– light makeup if you must, because when you are my wife I will need to see you without makeup, so I’d like to get accustomed to it
– filters are fine as long as it still looks like you in real life
– relaxed poses natural smiles, because that’s how you will be with me every day
– and since I am a wordly person, wit is a huge turn on because I know we would have endless blissful times of wordplay in between other play

I’ll probably leave it for now as I need to finish a writing job, so just swipe on.

Oil for Grime: A Life Hack

The infamously obstinate kitchen grime and dirt lay placidly on my shelves and jars. I was cleaning my kitchen and had decided to tackle that ultimate bane of housekeeping.

Tapping on a kitchen hack I had come to know of, I fetched a small cup of cooking oil with a straw in it and set it down. Reaching out, I brought down a grimy jar, then proceeded to drip on it a few drops of oil using the straw.

He stopped by and looked with interest as I was rubbing the oil into the grime.

“Are you cleaning the jars?”

“Yes, and the shelves too.”

When all the oil had been rubbed in, I took a paper napkin and wiped down the jar. Almost as if a miracle, it came out grime-less and clean.

“I see you’ve got a splendid hack for grime there.” He nodded in approval at the gleaming jar.

“Thanks! It should work even on the thickest grime that I hadn’t touched in years! But it will probably take a little more oil, and time…” I glanced up at the ancient layer of dirt on the topmost shelf. “Soap and water is fine for surface dirt, but for stubbornly rooted grime, rubbing oil loosens it from where it clings so it can be easily wiped away. And then, an easy wash with soap and water for total cleansing!”

“That sounds pretty much like how people can be restored too – cleaning out the grime from what’s in the depths of their minds – using the right cleansing agent and a little time – then a final surface wash, and we’re good as new.” He grinned.

“That’s indeed pretty much it, I guess.” I stared at the clean jar in my hand. It wasn’t sticky to the touch or dirty anymore.

“But it will be all worth it to have everything restored to its former shine, won’t it?” He said, looking at the other jars sitting on the shelves.

“Yeah! Then the jars will be all ready for use again!” I grinned back.

“Great! I’ll leave you to it then.” He waved as I shook a grimy hand at him, and then walked away as I picked up the next jar.

Behind The Wall

Came across the story of pianists Giorgio and Emil who lived beside each other for a while, and felt the words and sentiments appearing.

My soul stirred and woke
To the melodies of you
From behind the wall
That separated us two

A desire to draw closer
And you closer to me
Made me slip you a note
That we would meet

When my playing ceased
That you might continue
And when your songs led
I would surely follow through

You acceded my whim
To my utmost delight
Two piano players playing
Together out of sight

When we finally met
It sealed my destiny
You said I was your light
Did you know you were to me

Yet the sun at day’s end set
So it came for us to part
Though your playing has ceased
I shall continue with my heart

You left me a precious gift
Of the melodies of you
And I’ll play behind this wall
That now separates us two.

Igi – do you get it?

Just yesterday, a youngish friend used igi on me. What the heck’s that, I asked. He said it’s young people language.

As a language teacher and recreational writer, I was rather annoyed. After all, this abbreviating trend is, from my personal experience with students, positively correlated to difficulty in writing even a proper sentence, complete with whining and complaining of how tiring it is to write. I ran igi by a younger friend who stoically said it’s not young people language, but a lazy people thing. I’d have to agree.

Back in school, I learnt about abbreviations and acronyms, both official and otherwise. They make sense and are greatly appreciated. But things are being carried a little far, I guess with the constant ‘need’ to be trendsetters, to gain followers, be trendy and what nots. But until the day legal documents adopt these new and funky short forms, I beg to be unfashionable.

And where do we go from here? It will get more and more difficult for the general masses to read the classics, to appreciate poetry and its leisurely nuances, and perhaps in the end, long form users will be a rare commodity. Which may not be a bad thing. We’ll see.

Umbrella over Coffee

I opened my umbrella and made my way precariously down the glossy steps, the paper bag holding my birthday treat from Starbucks dangling from the tips of my fingers. I’d wrapped 2021 and was all ready to indulge in some sweets and coffee.

As I approached the traffic lights, I saw a young man ahead, waiting at the kerb for the green light. Suddenly, I had an impulse to shelter him from the rain. It was something I hadn’t felt like doing in a long time. As the lights remained stationary, I decided and took a breath. Here goes.

“Would you like me to shelter you across?”

He turned towards me with a slight look of surprise. “Oh… no it’s okay, I’m just going nearby.”

“It’s okay, I’m going the same way,” I said with a grin beneath my mask.

I held out my umbrella towards him and we waited, a slightly awkward silence hanging between us. All too soon, it was green and we started walking.

In that short walk, I found out he lived in the apartment across and was waiting to study Architecture at university. We talked about how he is looking to tutor Math and Science instead of English like me, about mothers, about kids. I spoke of enjoying couplehood; he asked if I was going out to celebrate New Year’s Eve. We shared a wistful wish to travel and then arrived at the diversion where we were to part.

“Well, all the best for your studies,” I said. He responded with some parting words. There were no numbers, no Instagrams, just a serendipitous act of charity for a stranger who remained one at the end of it.

And somehow, it lent a sort of magical touch to this New Year’s Eve, as if humans crave the warmth of giving in the coldness the world has come to be. Maybe. But I know I would do the same again the next time I have an umbrella over coffee.

Wishing everyone a very happy new year.

The First Gift

The origins of commemorating this day, featuring the lovely work of artist Yongsung Kim and its title. Wishing one and all a beautiful Christmas filled with joy and love.