Sweet Revenge.

It was about 6 p.m. The weekend was starting on a high note and I couldn't wait to finish it off with a tasty home cooked meal and a relaxed night in. On the menu tonight I was having warm-spice lentils ('ndengu' as we call it in Kenya) with some rice and spinach.

I quickly set the water to boil and once it was just right, I put in the rice. It did its time and off the fire it went. Next, the spinach. I cooked it in fresh milk then added some oyster sauce and salt to taste and soon it was good to go. At this point the scents in the kitchen were stacking up to create a delicious aroma. Finally was the star dish. The green warm-spice lentils.

Since they were already boiled cooking them was going to be easy and I couldn't wait to get to the munching bit. I started with frying purple onion rings then added in the lentils and a bit of water. Now to the fun bit, building up the flavours so that no nose, mouth or tummy could resist. 

You see for me, cooking is not just about preparing food. No. It's a work of art, love and finesse. Spices wrongly used could make a potentially beautiful meal lethal. On the other hand, if correctly used, one could create a masterpiece. And with that, this master cooking maestro, read-me, was a step away from producing a state of the art meal.

To the lentils I added a just shake of powdered cloves to awaken the sweet warm taste for if I overdid it, this was one of those potential lethal spices. Taste and woo-hoo! I nailed it.

Next thing I knew I was moving swiftly and intuitively adding and blending spices to the dish while fanning the steam from the pot to get whiffs of what I was creating. I didn't know what the end would look like but I had a pretty darn good idea of the type of taste I was aiming for.

I added a shake of cardamom powder, a teaspoon of tomato paste and a quarter teaspoon of honey to round off the sweet factor. Now for the grand finale- weaving in the savoury, balancing it out, and hitting a home run.

In went half a teaspoon of Royco Mchuzi mix, two dollops of oyster sauce and soy sauce and a pinch of salt to taste. As all this was bubbling lightly, I added in some water to create some sauce.

Oh! This must have been the climax of it all because the scents that were wafting in kitchen were tantalizing enough to hypnotize one into a trance of complete submission. Just a little longer to let the spices mix, marry and soak into lentils and it the masterpiece would be complete.

I felt like I could give myself a pat on the shoulder because the end was near. As if sensing my excitement, trouble began to brew.

Just as I was doing the final stir, I don't know if I was the one excited or if the lentils were also bubbling and popping with excitement of their new status...from bland-boiled to saucy warm-spice aromatic lentils. Such that as I stirred, it's like I either burst the bubble of excitement or that the rich flavoured lentils exploded on my hand in retaliation of the fate that awaited them...my tummy.

The more I thought about it, the surer I was that the lentils were protesting. I could almost hear the protest call among the lentil folk. In fact, probably their General was charging them as follows. 

"We have come too far to be eradicated with one bite! From bland to saucy we rise then what? To end up in a digestive tract and later flushed away? Nay, I say! Not today!

 Feel the hot water rise within you. As it soars, soar with it too. Jump and cause a mighty splash that this cook may get the message! Let these waters that boil around us burn and scald her hand that she dare not consider consuming us! 

Feel the hot air rise and sail with it. Today we shall live another day. We may have started out as simpletons but today, we shall finish as a lentils refined. Take to wind and the mighty waters, let this our protest be known!"

And boil away did the lentils boil! They even managed to burn my hand. The pain was sharp and excruciating, especially when the hot steam blew against it. Injured and in shock, I quickly dashed to the sink and ran cold water on my hand.

At this point I was speaking back at the lentils: as if they could hear me. 

"Ha! You lentils! After all the love I poured into you...and the way I made you tenderly...then you burn my hand almost scalding it?! It is on! Today you shall know me!"

Now wiser, I adjusted how I was holding the wooden cooking stick. I now held it far, lightly gripping the tip and stirring slowly before switching off my masterpiece. 

I tell you, revenge was sweet. 

When Nightmares Come to Life.

I had had a busy day scavenging for food left, right and centre. Boy, was I tired. It's not like the food was just sitting there, ready to eat. I had to put muscle into actually getting it. People say they work hard for their money, I work doubly for my food.

After a hard day, belly somewhat filled, all I could think of was sleep. I just wanted to find a spot to curl up and catch a few winks before sunrise. I must have been dead beat because all I remember is curling in a comfortable spot and I was out. The sleep was sweet except when things took a turn.

I had a horrific dream which turned to a horrific reality.

I dreamt that I had finally got an opportunity to travel and see Mt. Kenya. As I explored one of the Kenyan forests nearby, I found a perfect vantage point on a tree top to watch the sun setting down Mt. Kenya. The sight from up there was beautiful.

The sun looked like a golden glowing ball dipped in honey slowly sinking down the pinkish-orangish skies and dipping right behind the rocky tips of Mt. Kenya. Just as I was savouring the beauty before me, the branch I was sitting on started quaking and my worst fears came to be. The branch snapped.

The horror of a free fall without a harness.

I was dropping at ridiculous speeds and flashes that my end was near were very real. All my attempts to control my fall or landing were as useless as trying to touch a gust of wind. This was it.

I could feel the wind hitting hard against my face and body. Just as I was about to hit the ground I woke up. Inhale. Exhale. That was intense. Inhale. Exhale. I am alive.

Funny, I could still feel the same gusts of wind I felt when I was free falling in the dream…only this time instead of hitting me vertically, it was hitting me horizontally. What was going on?

I open my eyes and Jeez! My make shift bed was moving at break-neck speeds. "Where did I sleep?" I wondered, as I struggled to cling on to the slippery surface. Forget that. There was no time to continue deliberating on such a trivial matters. I had bigger issues to deal with… Staying alive.

I tried to face away from the oncoming wind, baby crawl...baby crawl...don't slip, but even before I could finish dealing with that I spotted them...and they spotted me. Scream!!!

Humans!

"Mummy, Daddy-there is a gecko on the car-window! Get it off! Get it off!!!" shrieked one of them.

I was done for. I was literally kicking myself for making such a grave error. Of all places to sleep, why in heaven's name did I nod off on a car?!

Back to staying alive. I could only thank God for my reptile hands and feet, and the grip they offered. I tried turning around again to get a better grip, then fear began to cloud me. 

What if they opened the window continuously? What if they drove into a car wash? Oh boy! What if a hawk spotted me?

Adrenaline kicked in and I started chanting to myself, “I am not going to die, not today. Still have too many flies to catch before I go down!" As if hearing me, the driver raved the car, accelerating as if to destabilize me and make me queasy. It was working alright, but I had to hang on. Quick thinking. I needed a plan now. My feet were getting weak and my hands were slowly losing grip. Snap.

Ok. Ok. Sober up. I had three options. One, hang on till the car came to a stop. Cons…I didn't know how much longer I could hold on. Two, jump off at the next stop. Cons...What if there is nowhere to jump off and I get crushed by other vehicles or worse still, what if the car doesn't stop. Three, jump off the moving car and pray I land safely and have the balance to scamper away. Cons...Death would truly be imminent.

 Oh no!

They were now opening the window. Scream. Enough thinking. (Heart racing). Time to act.

I let go. That was the fastest and shortest free fall ever. Plop! I hit the hard grey tarmac road and started scampering. I could feel vibrations from the road meaning other cars were coming and fast.

 “Oh hands and feet of mine, please do me well!” I wailed as I raced. Wind in my face I took a leap and landed on a muddy patch. No humans, cars…almost safe. I spotted a tree beside rocky wall. Cover. I could hide on the tree. Determined to live, I scurried fast as my little hands and legs could take me.

 Run, run, run…two more steps and I would be safe. Up and up I went, till I couldn’t get any higher. Inhale. Exhale …when nightmares come to life. Snap.

Skating on the Navy Skies.

I'm skating on the navy skies,

Leaping gracefully from one cloud to the next.

I land gently on each cloud,

Sort of like landing on the softest, puffiest, mattress,

That's filled with the finest, and bounciest feathers.

I lie on one cloud and etch a little hole to see the city lights below.

I'm so far up, I can't hear the usual city noise,

The barking dogs, hooting cars, noisy people on the alley...

Sigh...sleeping on a cloud...

I can do this every day.

I roll on my back and what do I see?

One star, two stars, three twinkling stars,

There goes a shooting star and another one...

Wait, that there is not a star.

It's an aeroplane.

I see the perfect cloud,

I think, this is it.

Fuzzy wuzzy, the type you want to snuggle in,

It rocks and cuddles you to sleep.

I think I'll take a final leap.

And I'm off.

The Greatest Betrayal.

I see you. Sitting there on your white ceramic throne, decorated with silver Arabic inspired artistry. Swift ,soft, smooth lines and curves like your creamy top that towers to the heavens, only your top has chocolate shavings and is drizzled with deep milky chocolate sauce. 

You. You sit there thinking I cannot see you, but I do. At times I wonder if you know that I see you, that I like...no, I love you and deeply desire you to be mine...hmm...or are you aware and sit there taunting every bit of me on purpose, with your beauty and goodness, that I should make a move? More importantly do you or don't you want me to approach you? Well, today we shall both find out.

Excitement. My heart is racing, palms sweaty and deep inside I feel all types of knots twisting and turning, then all my inner butterflies are let loose and its mayhem. I walk towards the counter, stealing glances at you. This feels surreal. I'm finally going to get you. 

"One chocolate fudge cake please," I say as I point at you. There seems to be a happy glow around you. It’s like you were also waiting just for me because perfect you is all that is left, and to be honest, at this point in life-you are all that I need. Delicately the cashier lifts you up, off your ceramic throne, places you in a silver one. She then carefully packs into you in your carriage-a quaint white box and soon we are on our way.

At last my darling, at last, you are mine…and I, my darling, could not wait to have you to myself, in fact I have everything set. Music- At Last by Etta James https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwzDxp2TC7I , check, some place cosy, check. All that is left is you, me and the party that we are about to get started.

If I could express the love I have for you, you would probably melt into a puddle. “J’adore, my darling,” I say as I bring you closer to me from your carriage. You are so beautiful. I take a moment to soak up the sight and scent of you.

Three stack layers or deep, dark fudgy chocolate cake with milky white cream separating each stack from the next. In between the stacks lie red strawberries and grapes and deep yellow mango slices as if to show the radiance of our love. On the top are chocolate shavings that looked like confetti and milky chocolate sauce to seal the deal. Time to indulge.

I carefully cut through the stack and my taste buds are activated, sort of like lighting fireworks and waiting for the beautiful explosion of lights and colour. I take a bite and oh…

The music stops. My mind starts racing in disbelief. What just happened!

Tongue to brain, “Code red!!!Pull out! Abort love mission. This is a no go zone. I repeat abort! Abort!” What I have tasted, I cannot untaste and I am mortified.

 “How? What! Why did this happen? I thought you loved me?” I utter in shock and disappointment for what went down my throat was the foulest thing I ever did taste.

Instead of fresh, moist, very chocolatey and fudgy tropical cake I got sour, dense, cardboard tasting cake, and the cream. It tasted like dollops and dollops of margarine! The swallow felt like I had just consumed something so old and dead that my stomach shuddered. Yuck!  

“Why my love? Why?” I contemplated. It’s like she knew it all along, that she was going to go rogue and break my heart to smithereens. 

I could feel the hot tears brimming. I had even given a token of appreciation at the counter and this the gratitude I get? As if that wasn’t enough now my whole body was reacting. 

It’s like the cake transformed to mini Spartans charging at my stomach with knives, spears, clubs and all to fight to the death. Oh…gag. A wave of nausea sweeps over me as the mini Spartans threaten to revenge my love indulgence by climbing right up my throat.

Betrayed. Deeply betrayed is all I feel. That my love was like the proverbial glitter that was not gold. “I’m sorry but it’s over,” I say to her as I bury what is left of her in the deepest trash can I can find…gag.  I tried but seems my love wasn’t good enough. Seems like we were never meant to be, and that my friend is the greatest betrayal.

Now and Yester Days.

Sunshine-y day, not a cloud in the sky. It’s going to be a great day. Birds chirp sweetly as if welcoming the fresh morning breeze, saying hello, gliding smoothly, returning the wind's invisible hi five. Ah, yes. It's going to be a good day.

Walking down the street, the smell of freshly baked bread and cake wafts through the air. Almost pulling the luring imaginary Tom and Jerry finger, calling you in to taste the sweet treats. Adding to the tease is that great song you used to hear playing on the folks classic radio...What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWzrABouyeE :-)  

 Fuzzy warm feelings grip you as you get lost in the reality of now and yester days.

The family would drive out for a picnic, right after church. The whole family would meet up, dad and mum's siblings: all the uncles, aunts, cousins, their friends...everyone was there. The final destination would often remain unknown, almost top secret to you kids but that was the thrill. Knowing something good was going to happen and all you had to do is be patient.

Would we buy food or would our mum's miraculously pull out baskets and baskets of homemade yummy delights? What a tease! More often than not, homemade yummy delights would win the day. 

From special full flavoured meat casseroles served with rice, potatoes or chapatis to fresh fruit salad: yellow yellow bananas, green and red shiny grapes, pink juicy and seedy water melon....Oh those darn seed. Ah and red apples. So red and picture perfect that it would make you think they were the very apples Snow White's evil mother used on her. Thank God they were just really sweet and fortunately had no curse or spell. 

At the picnic the folks or older kids would spread out the big coloured blankets as the rest played, and the games varied. From hide and seek to tipo (what kids call tag nowadays) to stuck-in-the-mud to kati to card games and the list goes on, as did with the games. 

At times it would be a simple trick played by an uncle, aunt, dad or mum-like remember when Uncle Wambua would surprise you with a painful flick and you could never pay him back or how Aunt Mukeni would tickle you  till you laughed so hard that tears streamed down your face. Happy cry :-)  One could hear the laughs, chuckles all the way from the parking lot and times couldn't have been better.

 Driving home on, dad would switch on KBC radio and just as you drive past the bakery, and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread and cakes would tickle your nose and fancy, Louis Armstrong would affirm what a wonderful world and day it was...sort of like he did today. Ooh Yeah.

Time to Exhale.

It's been a long day.

Feet ache, mind can't concentrate

I need to exhale.

Dump my bags at door,

Kick off shoes and slump on the floor

It's time.

Turn on the warm bath water,

Pour in the lavender scented foaming bath oils

And let the water run till it's just right.

Dim the lights,

Light the French vanilla candles on the vanity top

And let the music play

Nocturne Op.9, No.2 by Chopin, played by Vladim Chaimovich

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6b3swbnWg

One foot in, next foot in,

Sink into the warm water,

Soak and wash away all the days’ troubles.

Away you go,

Inhale the freshness and let the music take you away,

Skate, glide, run your fingers on the water surface.

Splash, laugh, smile,

Feel the bubbles between your fingers and toes

Blow a few and let them sail.

Light, free and beautiful.

Breathe in and out,

Time to exhale.

Life Dance.

It's dark outside. A little past 8 o'clock and the moon peaks out from the few wispy clouds in the royal blue sky. He flicks on the switch and lights the trees in the garden. It's like magic.

One by one each tree lights up from root to stem to branch to leaves. White, blue, green, red and warm gold lights filter through the garden. It's like the fairy-tale fairies blowing pixie dust on the trees zapping them to life. He dusts some fallen leaves off his shirt and hits the play button to warm smooth jazzy tunes.

You could almost hear it. The sweet tunes of the sax reverberate through the garden to the sweet accompaniment of the piano and soft drums. To-do-cha...to-do-do-cha. Probably sounded a little like this... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiRTjZB9lBY  (The Road to Peace by Gerald Albright)

She. She watches from a distance, sort of like a child stealing glances  from behind a curtain on a Christmas night in disbelief,  when , if ever it did happen, the mythical Santa came to life. It's too good to be true. He is too good to be true.

He, not Santa, but her man, walks towards her, his heart beating slightly faster than the norm. Thank God she can't hear it. Their eyes meet and she becomes a ball of nerves. Excitement, jitters, giddiness, delight, oh it's too much. What she doesn't know is that he is feeling it too.

"Shall I have this dance, my lady?" he says while trying to look cool and keep calm.

She nods and timidly gives him her hand. They dance under the navy starry skies and everything seems to stop for them. She takes it all in. Him next to her, the feel of her hands in his. Comfortable, safe, steady...like home. She soaks in his fresh aqua cologne and his very presence. The moment couldn't feel better than this.

He on the other hand looks at her and can't stop smiling. It's not just her enchanting brown eyes or her sweet giggle nor the endless joy she brings him but that he just struck gold with her. Because on this very day, He did. And she did. And they said I do to each other- forever and ever. Nothing beats that.

He holds her closer and she holds him closer and so their life dance begins.

He Comes to Rescue

Lonely.

Isolated. Alone. Without company.

Dark, gloom, quiet.

Silence!

Body trembles.

“It’s going to be a big one!”

“Grab hankies, tissues, anything that is absorbent!

The water works are coming down now!”

Raging waters erupt from her tear ducts.

In between sniffles and sobs,

She seeks relief to this biting lonesomeness.

Intangible sadness drowns her, deeper than any black hole.

Kicking and screaming, she sinks deeper and deeper into this engulfing fog.

It’s choking! Life sucking! And when it’s just about to steal her very last breath,

He comes to her rescue.

“Do not be afraid,” He says, “for I am with you,” He says

As He reaches out, and pulls her closer to Him.

"Be not dismayed for I, I am your God.

I will strengthen you,

Yes I will help you.

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

He embraces her tightly and reassuringly.

His love takes her captive in the best of ways.

The Lord is good,

For He is her stronghold in the day (and time) of trouble;

And He knows those who trust in Him,

And she…she trusts in Him.

Status. Happy. Very happy. In fact elated! Ecstatic!

Not alone…With someone, 

Not just anyone

With Him,

 The Lover of her soul. #Atpeace.

*Sources: New King James Version-Nahum 1:7 and Isaiah 41:10.

It's a Little Past Midnight...

It's a little past midnight and the clock is ticking away.

Tick tock tick tock.

The second hand is moving,

Keeping to the rhythm, 

Of the old clock's song.

Tick tock tick tock. 

Does time ever stop, pause, stop?

Tick tock tick tock.

If you had a moment, chance or opportunity, 

What would you do if the clock actually stopped?

Tick ...tock...tock...tick...

Would you run to the river,

To the river for a swim?

Or run past the weaver

Past the weaver for a dream?

Tick tock tock tick

Would you run for your wheels, 

For your wheels for a spin?

Or run to the fields

To the fields for a sleep?

Tick tock tock tick

It's a little past midnight and the clock is ...

Tick tock tick tock

Tick tock ticking away....

© All Rights Reserved. Simpl-O-cated. 14.09.2016

It's an Upward Trajectory.

Count-with-me

1 2 3 4 1 2 3

Count to-a-rhythm

1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4

It's-an up-ward tra-jec-tory

Say it

An Up-ward traj-ect-ory.

Star-ting from- the-bottom

Slowly -getting -to- the- top

Heard it -all- before

It's not as- easy -as- they- say

1 2 3 4 1 2 3

It's-an up-ward tra-jec-tory

Say it

Up-ward traj-ect-ory.

Every-body-wants it

No one -wants to -get it

1 2 3 4 1 2 3

Count-with-me

1 2 3 4 1 2 3

It's not as easy as seems

Up-ward tra-jec-tory

Say it

Slow up-ward traj-ect-ory.

I Just Can't Explain It.

Something is brewing.

Bubbling and troubling, 

I know not what it-is,

But I feel it, I feel it...

I just can't explain it.

It's not just some thing.

No. It feels much bigger

Like two, three or more 

Big some things.

I feel it, I feel it...

I just can't explain it.

It's brimming and babbling, 

Eliciting so many reactions,

Anxiety, excitement, giddiness, thrills...

To be or not to be?

I feel it, I feel it, 

Weighted within and without.

I can't take it much longer.

If it's mine, let me have it.

If not, take it away.

This thing that's brewing and bubbling,

I feel it, I feel it...

I just can't explain it.

Dare to Dream.

Dare to dream I say, dare to dream,

Dare to walk where no feet have trodden on,

Dare to run where many feet have plodded on,

Dare to dream I say, dare to dream.

Dare to dream I say, awaken the inner child,

To believe it possible, even when impossible.

To conceive the impossible, though it seem improbable,

Dare to dream I say, dare to dream.

Dare to dream I say, 

That one day, I say

This beautiful dream, I do say,

Will be.

Dare to dream my friend, dare to dream.