INVITATION

Sympathy can turn into love, but I wonder how long such relationship can last when one realizes that the love is not the love. Will one just put a stop to that relationship and start anew? Is it easy to shake off obligations without feeling guilt? I have known great love, love that overcomes difficult times, personal weakness, temptations elsewhere, and grows stronger. Yet I have seen more relationships dissipated like a puff of smoke. We write more love songs than anything else, but even the song writers can not keep their relationship a life time. For ordinary people, we have duties to fulfill and conscience to follow. Most of us can't just walk away like nothing has ever happened. Eventually separation becomes a material thing rather than emotional. We measure the relationship in terms of dollars, not love. We measure what we lost and what we can gain. We fight for what we think we deserve to have to compensate for what we have paid. We often want more than that, but we don...

I raised my arm to touch his face his chin clean shaved I could smell the scent of soap and feel the bristly stubble, restless tingling my fingers I dreamed of his voice, deep and resonating his eyes, glacier blue under the starry sky, the bay was quiet, the breezes were soft like Autumn water, I cried out his name a thousand times and the poundings of my heart all dispersed into the silence Our paths are parallel divided by oceans and continents distanced by planets I could only release my soul be it captured and wrapped by his light Longings and dreams, I put them in a package with no return address I send them away, set them free away they go and depart from me will they never come back to me cut them, burn them, drown them, smother them will they never come back to me Waves ebbed footprints erased there and back again, the vast emptiness is restored to me

"So," Marcus put down his fork and looked at me, "when are you going to introduce me to your parents?" "Pretty soon," I said, "I am planning it." But I am not so sure about Ma and Pa meeting Marcus, after what my brother Steve has gone through. Actually I should say Ma is the problematic one. She had an allergic reaction to my brother's girlfriends. She grew up in a culture where openly shown affection and intimacy was a taboo. She was uneasy to see my brother and his girlfriend getting too close. A couple of times, they were watching TV in the living room. Ma would marched in the room and sit down beside them. They felt so uncomfortable that they soon retreated into Steve's room. If the girl stayed after 10:00 pm, Ma would become restless. She would go upstairs, knock on my door and speak in an unusually loud voice urging me to go take shower and get ready for bed. She made sure that her voice was loud enough to penetrate into the l...

Rohan, My dear friend, where are you and how are you? It has been so long and today while I digged into my memories, I all of sudden recalled your little room, simple and clean, with your guru's picture on the wall. I could see it from the river street. I remember sitting in your room, while you made tea. You don't talk much. You left the tea on the table, picked up your book and continued reading. Your little room was the shelter where all noises of the outside world were shielded away. How peaceful to be there, no need to talk, no need to engage in anything, just being there, was such a joy. Do you still remember the day that we rode our bikes, with your friends to the city relics? You got me a 28" bike which was so tall that I couldn't get on it. We laughed all the way, seeing things, roaming in the allies. It was a hot summer day. You must have become a proud father now, with giggling little ones. Can you still find a quiet corner at home reading? I bet you...

I remembered to water my flowers today. I almost ignored them for 3 days after I got my computer. This is the first computer I have that I don't have to share with others. I am so happy to have it. My flowers are doing just fine, I have found. Strawberry is not doing so well though. The fruits are small. While I was cleaning away dead leaves in pot, I found a peanut, with whole shell buried in the earth. It must have happened not so long ago as the shell was still clean. I wonder who buried the peanut there. Beibei said the blue jay. Of course. I have seen them stopping by my balcony. I put the peanut back to where it was, hoping whoever buried it there will be able to find it later. When I was young, we lived in a room in a 3 storey brick apartment building, sharing bathroom (or should say toilet) and kitchen with 3 other families. We burned coal for cooking and heating. The floor was concrete. We had a few simple pieces of furniture just to satisfy the day to day use. Back...