Saturday, May 07, 2011

To: World,
on a disposed paper plane



Look at him, sleeping with a hand over his ear, fending away the thousand-legged spider, and another under the pillow clutching a toothbrush, a keychain, and his Mama’s wristwatch. Behind his closed eyelids, he’s counting, not sheep, but miracles. One, he says – the way my father laughs. Two, he says- the way my bed hovers like a spacecraft in the dark. Three, he smiles – the way my sister pronounces my name.
Look at him, World,
but don’t you dare touch him.
Look at him, placing his dinosaurs all around the house – under the armchair, to shield his Mama’s friends, behind the photo frame, to look out for memory thieves. He sifts them by color, for the orange, long-necked one is the closest to his heart, and the blue winged one, can barely fly after his injury. He cries sometimes, for him, “ But why can’t you move?”, He cries sometimes, for his Mama, “ But why can’t you see?”, and he cries sometimes, for you too, world “ But why can’t I be an object?”
His Mama once told him the story of Pinocchio, the wooden toy, who strived to be a boy. “ But why, can’t I be a toy?”,
And he asks me for a story, about a toy, named Ali. And I tell him, about a universe called Ali. He laughs, and I see my reflection in his glazed eyes.
“ Tell it again,” He says,
Once upon a time, I start
But where is Ali, he interrupts
He’s in the story,
But why isn’t he THE story?
Alright,
Once upon an Ali,
I start again
And he laughs, and the laughter never dies down in his throat, and he laughs some more.
In Ali, there lived the most absurd of creatures,
And he sits properly again, and his hands are in his lap, and his smile grows some more.
There was the three-eyed monster,
There was the ball of fur,
There was the crocodile who speak songs.

Because in Ali, there lived the most absurd of creatures!
He shrieks out loud,
And the blue winged dinosaur can fly again!
In Ali, everything flies. I tell him, and he gasps.

Look at him, world, but don’t you dare touch him. Those tiny hands that know not how to build or maim, but how to extract life for life, would one day, be the ultimate change you’d been doomed to neglect.
So, world, take me,
Take all my dreams, memories, and well-built notions,
But world,
Don’t you ever dare, touch him


Sincerely yours,

1 comments:

profound? priceless? charming? breathtaking? One of its kind?....hmmm when it comes to your writings, it is really hard to describe. Words always fail me in your page, and this is not about my language.. it is sth beyond that..
and yes, dear fucking world, don’t you dare touch him..

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