This is only for Yu

My name is Yu. I am 18 years old. Palsied. Weak. Mentally unstable. Partially blind. I have always thought that land was flat, until little Lara told me we all live on a big orange.

I dont know how to write. Even if I knew how to, I dont think I will be good at it. But I can read. Very slowly. And most times I dont understand. I have never wanted to. Lara tells me she is going to start to teach me to write one of these days. She says it will help me read faster.

Lara. My sweet Little Lara. She is the one helping me put my thoughts into words, so that one day I'll have you read this. And I am glad that that day is today.

I dont know where to begin. Is it because, I know no beginnings. I also dont have memories of my boyhood. As I try to think, the least I can remember was when I was old enough to climb a tree. I also grew up very fast. I was looking handsome until I started losing my hair. Now I am left with just a thin curve of grey on the back of my head. Lara once picked lice from my hair. Ever since, she calls it The Fertile Crescent. She tells me it has a biblical reference, but I dont know.

I dont know how many years it has been since Lara is with me. You might want to ask me how I know my age. It is just a number. I was probably thirty then. But I thought I will be eighteen till I die. (laughs) They said Little Lara was five when she first came to me. I have never counted the years as she grew up. I dont want her to. In my mind, she is always the playful and sweet Little Lara. But she can be rude too. Especially when she refuses to buy me ice-cream from the corner shop. I know I ask her for one everyday. Maybe she knows its not the ice-cream but the lady at the store I want. Or maybe she doesnt. I dont know what Little Lara will think of me as she writes this. But I know she wont estrange me. She can never. She owes it to me for what she is today. "Isnt that true, Lara!" (laughs again)

I wish I was in Artesia now. There is going to be a band of players with their strings and drums and flutes. I have watched their posters. That poster. It looked like these players have never had and will have a bad day in their life. You should watch that singer's mouth. Open. Ecstatic. All of them had long hair and were wearing fancy clothes. They were probably playing a good song in that poster. Maybe. I dont know. But I know the poster said they will be in Artesia today.

Lara wants me to think in the order of time. She is smart. But she is not smart enough to understand that I forget the things I would want to remember. The other day, we walked by a garden full of flowers. She told me their name. And I forgot. Now playful Lara tells me she will never speak to me if I forget that those were chrysanthemums.

I will tell you what happened today. But this little girl here tells me that she is getting bored of this old man. She wants to go play with her friends. I will allow her to. After all, I know my life is not interesting and no one will ever want to know about it.

"Yu, I know you would have loved to know that someone was going to read this.

I will miss you."

Lara Yu.

virginian stock

love, like the sun and the night, was always there in our lives. amorous glances, butterfly kisses, tender handshakes, an occasional hug, furtive walks down the fieldside...many a pleasurable moment as we laughed together and cried together. to me, he was the only one. and we lost no moment in love.

we lived past those times of apathy and illwill, when man hated man, when war was at the doorstep and peace knelt low. escaping ourselves of all that held between us, bringing us closer as the world around us distanced itself, only till i bore my child.

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virginian stock. i remember them. i remember their smells too. how could i forget that night. that night, those flowers and us. soft whispers from streaming lives from the earth below. the scents that wafted from those flowers threatening us for a brief moment. indeed, i remember them all. when all seemingly bright things evanesced under the setting sun, his eyes glistened, oblivious to all things around us. i remember how stealthily he waded through those dark waters, when the rest of the town slept, dreaming of virginian stock and hate.

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growing up never came easy to him. it could never have been. neighborhood fraught with ill-speaking mouths - hags who rail and pass their time, reviling postmen, betel-nut vendors who spat bitterness as they bicycled past his home, mothers who forbade their sons to play with him. the ever-growing enmity grew in him like a bloody cancer. he hated those who hated him. hatred like love, grows.

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the poison the townsfolk fed had been numbing his senses. i could see it. my touch made no difference to him. paralyzed, ready to brush with his end, he drew a deep breath, suspiring of all the disgrace he lived through all these years. those still eyes looked at me, never to move again.

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