Haunted House

A window whistles, a stairwell creaks,
Alive with monsters, alight with freaks.
Curtains rustle; a clock strikes eight,
A stifled scream, a whine of fate.

Deafening footsteps caress the floor,
a body slumps still; another more.
A crackle of magic, another dead
dust filled rooms glow orange and red

Wide eyed blues watch from a narrow slit
As evil races and dark fairies flit.
Two more taken by falling beams,
Anguish silenced over siren screams.

Four remain where eight once crept,
Falling still where fire leapt
Hearts ignite with one last heat,
But claws catch at their thudding feet.

A boarded up sign sways in silent breezes,
The roaring flames bites and freezes.
Eyes water where throats are parched,
Ashen remains where the dark light marched.

Yellow coats arrive at the scene,
Spraying hope where children were last seen,
Breaths catch in broken hearts,
Bodies removed in covered carts.

Twelve break down and four remain,
Hoping that prayers are not in vain,
Two more leave and as much stay,
Begging, for their child, another day.

A flash of blue, a singed dark lock:
One survived where others did not,
And ignored in the relived shouts and cries,
Is the glint that shines in impish eyes.
           
Fires die down but evil lives on,
Hidden behind the victories won,      
And when all think it has been kept at bay,
Then it shall return on that day.

Just Missing Riyadh

Ah Eskan, how I miss your tall towers,
Your little bakalas open at all hours
The random saudi boys playing football, 
The multiple azaans heard through the wall
I miss Riyadh and the people in hijabs,
How every road has at least ten cabs,
How I could eat any food wanted to,
And how there was a whole lot less work to do.
I miss my friends and the bright sunlight,
and how people only ever go shopping in the cover of the night
I miss the streets, the sounds the smells,
I even miss the random bangalis as well

I miss how roads were constantly rebuilt,

I miss the dust, the sand, the silt

I miss eating Galaxy and seeing coke everywhere,

I miss how wearing an abaya was not permission to stare

I miss hearing arabic being spoken by all,

I miss not looking up country codes before making a call,

Not that I call anyone or anything but still you know?

Now here I am on an island far far away,

Not the fairy tale I imagined but hey,

At least I have cute little nephews and nieces

But I swear, if they start crying one more time my brain will be in pieces >_<

A School Song (ASS), Big Ugly Thing ThatRhymes (BUTT); Funny, Racist, Illegal, ExhaustingToRead, NotWorthyOfYourTime, Dinosaur, SanityQuestioned (FRIENDS)

Yeah so me and Abrizzle collaborated on a poem. You can tell which parts are mine coz they are awesomer. But just in case your awesomess detector isn't working, Abrizzle's lines are in bold and mine are in italics.

 Let’s see when life plans for us to meet again

What will have changed between now and then?

We may spread across the world one in NZ, one Saudi Arabia and one in USA

But may you all remember me, every step of the way

And keep in touch,

With each of us,

 Using twitter, Skype and FB,

And promise to add to our class's thread even if we are feeling lazy

But one thing I know for sure

Is that there is nothing I will miss more 

Than seeing their pretty faces everyday

And being called "girly"...whining about homework, lectures of teachers and Pictionary that we used to play

I'll miss the noise,

Fati talking about boys,

 And all of Sam's crazy chats,

Em Zee going on about Maths

Abrizzle talking about how she isn’t pink and girly,

And to everything I do, just saying ‘maskhari!’

 I'll miss taking walks in the green ground;

 the place to go to 'take a round'

And Rabeah's random, crazy hyperness

 Which lifts you up no matter how much you are depressed

And the happy dances in the basket ball court that made u ROFL!

 And the parties with all the lack of bling bling!

At the farewell on the catwalk Em Zee's shy twirl;

Sam's classes to Rabeah on how to be a girl! <3

And classes and all the times we wanted to ditch

But there were no places to hide

And the times, in ICT, when we tried to switch

So that someone else with an Abaya would be bored inside

I’ll miss those moments of craziness with you guys,

The BGLs and that birthday surprise

I’ll never forget the practical jokes we played

And the deadness that we felt at the start of each day

And all the times that we played cards,

And how we treated each other’s subjects with complete disregard

Sure, now bidding goodbye is hard and sad;

But we part with memories, good and some bad

 Slight tears in eyes;

Sad sighs;

As a little inside each one of us dies;

Tight hugs with goodbyes;

 That's where all the love lies;

But as we part now;

We hold an unsaid, unbreakable vow;

 To keep in touch and never allow;

Anyone to forget us, so for now...

CHAO! ;)

Distracted

Here I am, up to my neck in ICT
Staring at the screen until my eyes bleed,
Spending hours at a time to finish it quicker
But all I do is be on facebook, tumblr and twitter.
You'd think by now I'd have learned,
And I would shut all my stuff when ICT was concerned
But unfortunately I lack self control of any kind
And I am completely unable to focus my mind
See look at me now, with my functional specification open
But I have no doubt that I will suck at coping
Oh look mom's here, and so that I don't look bad
I'll make a serious look face and change the tab
My resolution to study is so utterly sucky
That it'll take me a week to finish this, if I'm lucky
Even now I'm blogging instead of doing my work
And tomorrow at school, Sir Nadeem will make me look like a jerk
So I guess I'll go now, before I'm mince meat
(You have full permission to bust me if you see me tweet)

The Story Game

So me and Abrizzle played the story game on Tuesday. Basically it's a game in which the first person says a word, and then the second person says another word starting with the last letter of the previous word and so on. Then when you have a list of words, you use them to write a story. the story has to contain all the words in the same order.

The list of words was:
death - humorous - salute - elephant - Turkish delight - tutor-report - Timon - nautical miles - sushi - imperius curse - eeep - palindrome - easter egg - giant - tomato soup - pepper spray - yoga - arachnid - dandelion - never after


My story:

The Inheritance

   This story starts with an ending. in this case, it was the death of the greatly venerated Uncle Dig, thus named for being the best digger of all the meerkat family and his company of gold mining. His ending was ironically humorous because he died while he was digging. The tunnel collapsed and his body was never found.

   

   Today, on the day of his funeral, hundreds of workers form the Gold Miners Society saluted at his memorial stone. Even the boss, Mr Howard, an elephant of noble ancestry, came to pay his respects. The flustered family tried to serve him turkish delights and lemonade but were embarrassed to find that he was allergic to both. Mr. Howard left the site, offended, but not before whispering into the ear of Uncle dig's grand nephew's tutor and handing him a brown file. Later on, the tutor reported that, had it not been for an immense sense of duty (and a large bribe) he would never have passed on the message to the grand nephew, an infant meercat named Timon.

   Many nautical miles away, in a posh restaurant, a gold digging tycoon viciously speared some sushi on to a fork and shoveled it into her mouth. A frown crossed her face and The Maid took that as a bad sign. Lady Maham clicked her fingers and six servants marched in, their faces as impassive as those under the imperius curse. "take this rubbish away" she said calmly. The Maid eeeped at the Lady's use of that sentence. Lady Maham only ever spoke palindromes  and when she didn't, it was a very bad sign. the last time it happened was when her easter egg got swapped with a giant ostrich egg. the maid still had scars from that day. 

   

   Ever since Lady maham had heard that a meercat named Timon had inherited the mythical treasure map to the lost city of Atlantis, she had lessened her use of palindromes drastically. Where ever this Timon was, The Maid hoped that he was running away as fast as he could.

   Far away, a grown up Timon sipped on tomato soup for his 18th birthday. today he would finally get his inheritance. the file containing the map lay before him, itching to be opened after spending almost two decades in the dark. The young meerkat reached out towards the file when suddenly the door banged open and a tall lady who reminded him of Cruella De Ville stood in the doorway with a glinting dagger in her hand. Timon knew who it was and was prepared. He quickly dumped the entire contents of the pepper shaker into his pocket perfume, creating a makeshift alcoholic pepper spray.

   Timon held his only weapon in front of him, grabbed the file and backed into the other room while Lady Maham carelessly stalked towards him with a jealous gleam in her eyes. In his mind's eye, she had a deranged grin on her face and the blade of her dagger dripped crimson. He span around and made to run for it but tripped over an inconveniently placed yoga mat, causing the pepper spray to be flung out of his reach.

  Lady Maham towered over him and was about to snatch the precious file from his grasp when Timon felt a tickle on his nose. Crossing his eyes, he saw one of the many arachnids that infested his home perched on his nose. He also noticed that Lady Maham was paralyzed with fear. before Timon could take advantage of the situation the spider scuttled off...and jumped on to the Lady's outstretched hand.

   She overreacted and started shaking her hand wildly. It was as she was doing this that her hand hit the file and it flew out of Timon's grip and sailed across the room. the manila envelope landed safely  on the windowsill and they both sighed in relief. but  they had relaxed too son, because the wind blew slightly, tilting their obsession. the old map slowly slid out of the open envelope and before it hit the floor, the fragile paper desiccated into a million bits of dust that floated away in the breeze like dandelion seeds.

   And thus the map was lost forever and Timon and Maham lived happily never after, with Maham never heard talking in palindromes again.

:D:D:D
Read Fatima's too... here
  

Rambling

   Tomorrow is the first day of a new year. More importantly, it is my mom's birthday. She's been the same age for the last five years or so coz every time I ask her age, it's the same. Her age-defying cream must really work. It is also Eiichiro Oda's birthday too. In case you don't know, he's the guy who drew the manga for one of my favorite anime's ever, One Piece *cue theme song*.

   There is something about birthdays of people who write books or draw anime that make you really appreciate how short and fragile life really is. At any moment, they could die. And then...You will never know what happens next in the series. I know that sounds really materialistic and everything but it really bugs me. Imagine how different the end of Lord of the Rings might have been if the author hadn't gone off and died? I mean, I know he wrote down the whole history and everything but there is an image in the mind of an author that only he can write down perfectly. The current books are more like a description of something that the nephew of J.R.R Tolkein has never actually seen.

  A million times worse than that is the loose end of Charlie and the White House. I want to know what happens and yet, Roald Dahl is dead and nobody will ever be born that can take what he wrote and continue it. It sucks.

  Imagine you are on the most epic, most thrillery, most cliff-hanging episode of Vampire Dairies/Grey's anatomy/random-TV-series-that-you-watch-like-an-addict.and the episode is over and you are on the edge of your seat, wishing like crazy for Friday to come along with the next episode. and then two minutes later you find out that the series will never be continued coz the guys who were making up the plot suddenly died and left you hanging there.

  I told this depressing thought to my parents and they came up with the solution: Just ask God when you go to heaven. This seems like a really great idea until you realize that heaven is going to be so awesome, you won't care about silly things like pirates or vampires or whatever. It makes you wish there was a place where you could make a list of all the things you want to ask for in Heaven so that when you get there, you can be reminded of what your pre-heaven self wanted. And then maybe your Heaven self will be like "OK, since this person worked so hard to get me here, I might as well humor her". That would be cool. Maybe the first thing on the top of the list could be "I want curiosity about what happens next in One Piece' or something. And then your Heaven self would care!

  Anywho, my mom wants me to go to sleep. Little does she know that I'm going to stay awake till twelve and light a mini sparkler in the kitchen. But I suppose it's a good thing because otherwise, I'd never stop rambling on here.

BS. No, not what you're thinking. I mean Business Studies...Or maybe it is what you're thinking

Sometimes, you can ignore what's going on in the world. People can piss me off and I will just assume my no-expression face and not say anything till I'm sure my next words won't be a string of curses. But then there are things that you can't just tune out. Somethings just push through the gaps of the hands you've buried your face in and slap you repetitively on the same place. And then just when you've stopped wincing and crack open your eyes, it slaps you again. Sometimes, you're the one doing it to yourself. Because you have to.

Because sometimes, you have a business assessments tomorrow.

Of course, this isn't a very regular occurrence. And that just makes it worse coz teachers think 'This may be the only test they'll take seriously for a long time! Quick, name as many chapters as you can in 2 minutes!'. This is actually a lot more than you would think. Especially when they can just go "68 to 73!' and not "sixty-eiiight, sixty-niiiinnneee, seveeenttyyyyy, seventy oonnnnneeee and seventy twooooooo!'.

So here I am studying 16 chapters of business in which 50% of the words are synonyms of objectives, 40% is something like 'strategy', 'aims' or 'tactics' which are all extremely different things, and rest is just a truckload of adjectives describing how awesome the iPhone is. And for no other apparent reason than to make me hungry, they have a random picture of KitKat Senses. And also, just like in "Where's Wally", the writers of this book have a profound sense of happiness in trying to hide the word 'corporate objective' in every chapter and it is our job to find it out and highlight it. Coz obviously anything with as big a word as 'corporate' must be important.

Also, Human Resources does not deserve so many chapters to it's name. I bet no one actually uses psychometric testing. I bet they all just check if your suit is from Jigsaw or a thrift shop and hire you based on that. Or how much gel you were able to get in your hair without looking like Ken. Or how important your briefcase full of junk food looks. Or whether or not you can curl your tongue and do that alien sign with your hands, coz that is an important feature that every business person must have.

Ok, Em Zee if getting pissy about me studying for my exam coz she is so understanding like that. I hope you have fun with your lives and achieve all your corporate objectives.
Ok, that wasn't the best hiding place.