The Pond

Beware the pond my son, for it is deep and black and it will suck you in if you are not careful. It may look save and shallow but that's part of the pond's power of deception. You have to be careful never to go near it for any reason at all.

That was the note my father left me before he disappeared. I do not know what happened and I don't think I want to find out, but I know now that the Pond certainly had something to do with it. The Pond swallows things and people but I do not know why or how to get them out again. I have never walked near the Pond or had any thoughts of doing so until her.

I met her on the way to work. It was a cold rainy day just as always, and she was cycling like a maniac. She almost ran me over which was a good thing because that gave me a chance to ask for her number and name. Eventually, I even worked up the courage to ask her out on a date and as things go in this world, we hit it off almost immediately. We moved from being friends to lovers in two short months. Then one day, she disappeared. The last time anyone saw her was two weeks ago, near the pond.

Tonight, I finally defy the wishes of my father and head to the Pond. I will find them and bring them back, but if I fail, at least we'll be together.

The Second

They gave us a name. They called us the fairer sex, the weaker sex, the second sex and that was all we ever were or allowed to be. We were to be seen and not heard, to be obedient and silent unless we were proclaiming the Lord’s words or conveying our husband’s or father’s or brother’s orders. We were to speak only when spoken to and then only to utter agreements or offer charming debates but only halfheartedly. It was practically a sin to win one over the other sex! It was a sin to be smart in ways other than the womanly virtues of keeping house and hearth. We were only allowed to be what our men wanted us to be, which was practically close to nothing. Any woman who thought too highly of herself was soon condemned of witchcraft, and do not expect the rest to rise up to come to aid either for we are a selfish bunch hoping only to save ourselves and only sometimes our daughters. Yes, we were always a self-righteous group basking in our own obedience and trying to outdo our sisters in the competition to be the slave of men. Oh what a field day the men must have thinking up of new ways to subjugate and torture us and then denying us all that rightfully belonged to us. They must think us fools, but once in a while we get our own back and we put them in their place. Such times are few and far between and in the end, they always get the better of us and many have lost their lives and their dignities because of this; because they were simply trying to survive in this world of men.

Why does God punish us for being exactly that which he created? He made us strong in ways unknown to men, He gave us inner strength that we may face all the pain that comes with love, life and other catastrophes and yet test this strength time and time again with war, rape, famine and heartache. He made us witty and smart in order that we may work at Adam’s side, being a good companion and helper to him and yet He allowed the men to shut out our intelligence and tell us that our thoughts are worthless. He allowed the men to subject us to the menial of chores and the dumbest of activities, our brains rot slowly in the perfumed parlors while we slowly feed it with silly notions of romance gleaned from silly romance novels not worth even a glance by the man who wrote it. God made us beautiful to look at, He gave us graces to make our insides as beautiful as our outsides and then He stands idly by while we get beaten, tortured and raped by the sons of Adam, by the ones He made us to love and share everything with. Why does the Lord make such a fool of us and why do we still seek Him so? Why do we crave His approval just as we crave the approval of the men in our lives?

Our lives become a vicious cycle of loving and hating, surviving and dying. We alternate between hiding in the shadows and proclaiming in the light. Many have gone before us and only a smidgen of them has succeeded in their quest to be heard and even then, even the most heroic and the most pure must fall. They used her and then set her at the stake to burn, and all we could do was cower and watch with unblinking eyes revealing none of our anger or trepidation.

Does it surprise you to know that we fear you? No, I guess not, but perhaps it would surprise you to know that we hate you. We hate all of you to the core and no matter how many of us may love you and marry you, deep down inside, we hate you almost as much as we fear you and that is a lot of hate. Our hate manifests itself in the little things like the inability to find that missing sock or that misplaced key. Some times, the hate manifests itself in bigger things like the inability to bear you a healthy son and yet each girl child is robust and beautiful. Other times, we manifest our hatred so subtly that you might miss it altogether, and these little incidents we call miscarriages. These little incidents are always conveniently used to point to many other things like the act of witchcraft, or the lack of nourishment or even the beatings you give us whenever you drink too much. Yes our hate is as evident as your love; your love which leaves its mark on our body and soul, all the little cuts and bruises that increase in size over the years. These are the expressions of your love that we cannot refuse or we might just end up dead, death being the ultimate proclamation of your love after all.

So long have we suffered that we’ve forgotten what it was like to live normally. But still we endure, we procreate and populate. We tell our stories to all who would listen and we teach our daughters the skills for survival that our mothers taught us. We whisper to them when they are just in the womb of a time long gone when we were happy and free. We tell our unborn daughters that one day God will hear us and grant us our wish to be free. In turn, our daughters will pass on what they have learnt from us to their daughters after them and so we live on through time, ever growing in number and in strength and then one day, when the time is right, the universe will right itself and we shall again be happy and free. But until then, we will wait, we will tell our stories and we will keep on surviving everything you throw at us, for we are the strong ones, we are the ones who shall endure and we are the survivors. We were never the second sex, we were the only sex and some day it will be that way again, some day, soon…

Breathing in Water

I've not thought of him in such a long time and it's strange because for the longest time, he was all I could think of. I've loved him for such a long time that not loving him anymore is a strange sort of feeling. It feels like breathing in water.

I remember bits of the memories, those bits that have not been torn to shreds at least. Those bits are vague and slightly alien to me now. I've done a great job with distancing my conscious mind from his existence. It's strange because it never took that much effort before to recall him from the memory banks. Now, it's like breathing in water.

There used to be a time when the phone could have gone deaf from waiting for his call but now, it hardly cares. There are other calls now for it to take. When his calls do come, it takes a moment before I can bring myself to pick it up and do the whole mundane conversation conversation. It gets harder and harder to be civil over the phone, kinda like breathing in water.

I've heard the name mentioned in harsh uncertain tones by friends and even aquaintances. Were we ever that famous as a duo? Or did I ever mention him all that much? It gets harder to remember and his name dries up and turns to dust at my "in-utterance". Once, it flew out so constantly that even in my dreams would I cry out for him. Now, saying his name is like naming the devil, used only when absolutely necessary. It is breathing in water.

It's hard now or maybe just a little bit different, like breathing in water, but soon I will get used to it. We were made to survive after all and all I need to do is to calm my lungs down and teach them how to pluck out the much needed oxygen and filter the rest out of the way. It might just be like drinking a whole lot of water and peeing at the same time, but soon my lungs will work just like gills and breathing in water would be something I don't even need to work at.