Truth and Lies

I see only truth in your eyes, for the lies are folded neatly between your irises.
I hear only truth from your words, for the lies cling to your throat.
I feel your skin, and it feels of the truth, for the lies that lie skin deep hides from my touch.
I took a whiff, and the fragrance of truth surrounds you, for the stale air of lies were masked away.
I taste your lips, honey sweet with truth, for the bitter lies were swallowed deep.
So tell me now, tell me quick, what web of deceive had you spun around me?
what honey glazed truth had you fed me on?
What is truth...what meaning of it is to you?

Of the Golden Earth and the Silver Skies

CHAPTER 4 – Homecoming

 

      The elven maiden hums happily. Her loved one is coming home. She knows not when but after hearing such news, she bakes his favourites, makes the home special, just for his comeback. He had left her for quite some time now. Perhaps he will stay home longer this time, she quietly hopes. Loneliness gets to her at times, but not as much as her anxiety of waiting for him to be home, safe and unharmed.

Knocks came from the front door. The elven maiden excitedly runs towards it and opened it quickly. She gasps. In front of her was her awaited knight!

“Samudera. I’m back,” he said with a meek smile on his face.

“Mega, too!” squealed the horse maiden behind him.

She took him into her arms. All of her yearning for him felt washed away as she felt his warmth against her. 

“This is such a wonderful surprise!” she sobbed.

Wonderful surprise? His heart sank hearing Samudera’s sobs of joy. His homecoming is no wonderful surprise, for he brought with him dire news. One that would break her heart.

“Pawaka? Why so quiet?”

He looked at the elven maiden. Her expression was of pure happiness, but tainted with questions and doubt.

“No. Nothing.”

“But you look so…”

“Nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all.” The knight wrapped his arms around her and embraced her tightly. He felt ashamed for lying. An oath was broken. But he dared not to tell her the truth.

He’s hiding something, her heart whispers. But pure happiness for this newfound serendipity soon overwhelmed this doubt, and for now, it is silenced.

    Pawaka was relieved to be home. And he felt happiness blooming inside him. He smiled as he entered the humble house. The smell of wood, mixed with an appetizing aroma of cooked food welcomed him. He looked around. Not much had changed. Memories start to flood in. He remembers the time when he first met his foster parents. How they took him from the streets and raised him as if he was their own. How he hated them when they took Samudera in, and how they were murdered by a group of bandits when he left the house. It was too late for them when he arrived, but he managed to save Samudera. People around cared less. He sighed. The sin his foster parents ever did was to raise a demi- mortal.  He felt the burden. He felt the guilt. But he blamed it on Samudera. He used to hate her- for a very long time. Yet, the elven maiden never ceased to care for him. Blinded with self-pity and remorse, he mistreated her, threatened her, and caused her much pain. Strange enough, the elven maiden endured all that. And somehow, one day, he realised it was useless to keep hurting her. He asked forgiveness from the elven maiden. After that, he decided to become a knight, to ensure no other being would have to go through what he and Samudera had to and to compensate for all the wrongdoings he had done to her before. The demi-mortal still blames himself for his parents demise, though. Had he be more tolerant, more…open, then all of this will not take place. If time can be reversed, then he would have done so at the moment he saw the stiff bodies of his parents.

        A red wooden table in front of him reminds him of yet another deed he regretted. Fortunately it was not fully done. He looked at Samudera. The elven maiden flashed a smile. He wonders if she had simply forgotten the event.

     She led the knight and the horse maiden to the kitchen, where a sole table stood, laden with foods of all kinds. “I must say that I am sorry. This was all that I had managed to do,” said Samudera.

  

Mega wowed. “You can do better?” The elven maiden bashfully nodded.

“This is more than enough. Thank you, Samudera.”

     They had an amazing dinner, though homely, it was special. Not only for Pawaka and Samudera, but for Mega, too. It was one of the rare nights where Mega is not in her horse form. She felt acceptance, she felt bliss, and she felt as if she was a part of a loving family. And when Samudera touched her hand and gave her a smile, she felt she belonged here, with them both.

    They retired late, after clearing up the table and wash the dishes together. The horse maiden retired first, worn-out from the long journey and the excitement. Pawaka and Samudera were left alone in the kitchen, cleaning whatever mess she had done, in her attempt of assisting Samudera to wash the dishes.

“…Samudera?” The elven maiden stopped her work and looked at the knight.

“I’ve been very unkind to you…haven’t I?”

 “No, Pawaka.  You’ve been very kind to me. You saved my life once. And I am eternally in debt.”

He looked down at the gravy- stained floor. “Will you be wrathful upon me if I leave you… forever?”

Tears began to well in her eyes as the words fall to her ears. “You…you’re not dying, are you?”

“No! Samudera, don’t cry. I’m not dying.”

“Thank the gods. But, please don’t go away, you just got back…”

The elven maiden approached the knight. “Are you leaving me because I…I’m not good enough?” The tears overflowed and rolled down her cheeks.

   Her question stunned Pawaka. “Wha…n…no, of course not!” He did expect her to cry, but not this. Not this kind of question. The elven maiden slumps to the floor. The knight rushes over and wrapped his arms around her. She laid her head on his chest. “Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re perfect. Always.”

“Pawaka?” He looked at her. Tears stained her reddened cheeks.

“Yes, Samudera.”

“Do you…want me?”

“…Why do you ask me of this?” She gazed into his eyes instead of answering.  Her hands caressed his cheeks. He took them into his and hold them tight.

“Samudera, I…We can’t keep this up.” Somewhere in his heart aches as those words pass his lips. I know I want her, his mind echoes. I want her bad, now more than ever. But I can’t. He let her hands go and rises.

“You and I both know that this isn’t right. I…I’m going to bed. Good night, Samudera.” Slowly he leaves the kitchen; all the while trying hard to ignore Samudera’s muffled sobs. As he ascends the stairs, he knew that this is going to be a rough night.

Shout !!!

KYAAH!!

Ok, that was totally uncool.

No, this is not me being girly. And, no this is not me being emo. I mean, emotional.

I've been going through a rough time lately, and the examinations and the assesments are around the corner, stress builds up, fatigue dragged me down. I moan with each step I took. Man, I was so damn tired.

So, my friend gave a suggestion to...scream my heart out. Well, I thought. That seems better than crying my eyeballs out...like my room mate did.

So, the KYaah...was me...trying to shout. So uncool. But I can't just shout out of the blue...

Maybe I need to do something else to loosen up....

DAMN IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Damn it. Damn it. My work's going down the drain, shit. shit. I...dream in class(?) I know I crapped it all. I know my work's like hell. I just...it's just...crap.

What's happening to me I don't wish to know. I just want everything to go right again.

Why God,why?

No use asking...none whatsoever.

GDT 153 of 24/3/11

*snore*
*snore*
Hmm...uh?
Hey...where's the lecturer? I'm tired and bored and I can't even lift my pen...Hey...the figure I drew is distorted...damn.

There's not even half of the class here...sigh. I want to go HOME!!!!!!!!!!

I'm sick of this. Can I just...leave...?

21/3/11

I stand with my gaze to the melting sky, a solitary, motionless, grey figure against the colourful animation of all kinds of students. My mind travelled back, as the sound of sobbing rings in my ears, dismissing the serene sound of falling raindrops.

The wailing goes again, I sighed. My eyes were transfixed to the monitor of my laptop, but my attention fell elsewhere. My work is never going to be finished at this rate. They torture me as much as they torture themselves.  I hear only her cries. It irks me, flailing my attention. How pathetic. You asked for the break up, and you are wailing over it? Heck, if I were the now lucky boy, I should be the one sucking my thumb and wail as I hear sad love songs in the air. But then again, I am not that boy, or at least I wouldn’t be doing all those things. Break ups are nothing. ‘Love’ in these ages, in such a tender time of life, is never to be eternal. Both of the sides are playing push and pull, just to experience this rollercoaster they call ‘love’. This, all of this is senseless, hurting yourself while you hold the knowledge to avoid it. You idolise your lover when you are a couple but when you break up… I dismiss those feelings of irk, agonising attention kill, sympathy and immoral happiness. My work is my utmost importance.

“Call Tiha, tell her I can’t make it to class”, the words came between all the sobs and wailings. Luckily you still remember about class. Even if you’re skipping it. You should have Che’ Wan as your lecturer, he’ll let you off the hook for missing his class due to a break up. Seriously.

 Strange, listening to all these…’jiwang’ songs, aloud and over and over again seems to calm her down. And managed to make me feel all giddy. She listens to it even in the midst of azan. Sigh .Then she read the text messages her now ex-boyfriend gave to her. The wailing starts again. I gave yet another heavy sigh, put my headphones on, minus the music and pretended not to hear anything.

About yesterday, or the day before, my other friend broke up with her boyfriend. She wailed, too. It disrupted the blissful serenity of my sleep. A very groggy I gave a comment, “You know how teens nowadays are, there’s no need for you to…” And my not even finished comment was barked back with, “Shut up! Shut up!” There goes a peaceful morning. I rolled back to sleep and awoke a few minutes later. What a great start to a blissful morning! Damn.

They were always quick to dismiss me as ,” You don’t understand, you really don’t,” and would give me the ‘do not interrupt our talk on our shitty boyfriends, shitty classmates, shitty bitches of a classmate, shitty weather, shitty lecturer, shitty assignments, shitty this, shitty that, and the list goes on… my life is so like, shitty’ look. Yeah, I don’t understand on why this girl is bitchy for writing on your boyfriend’s facebook wall, or that your lecturer is shitty for holding up replacement classes. Oh, and yes, they eat with that mouth. Me? I prohibit myself from cursing or using vulgar words. Not in writing, though. Everything changes when I write. I am at liberty when I write.

So I might be a jinx to those in love, but well, secretly I am glad of that. I try not to experience this kind of love. And it seems that I break other people’s relationship of this kind of love, that happens without me interfering - my classmates included. One of them broke up with his girlfriend and does a very non-macho thing. He cried. So much for his ego. Sigh. I pity him, but immoral happiness grips me tighter with its vice claws. So I merely gave a wicked smile and a sarcastic remark, when he broke the news. Boy, do I sound arrogant, cruel and cold…heh.

But hey, that’s just me. I wouldn’t change. Not now, and hopefully not ever. Heaven’s tears grew thick. Everything seemed blurred. In my brown jacket, I sauntered quietly in the rain, wet and chilled to the bone. Back to my room. Back to see love suffer. Back to the embrace of the agonising mixture of immoral happiness, torture and sympathy. At least until they all get new boyfriends and girlfriends.  I hold that thought with a malicious grin etched across my face.

Sing~ sing~

So here I am, in the class of GDT 152, listening to my classmates' singing songs I have no knowledge on.

The lecturer's not here.

While the cat is out, mice came out to play. heh. I'm in front of the computer, doing some work in InDesign, wearing my headphones, and yet I can still hear them singing their heart out.

Better to see them full of gaiety rather than hearing them wailing. Or complaining. Or sleeping in class.

Maybe I'll go and ask them what song are their singing.

For I feel like joining them too. -_-'