Covid 19 defeated at Kabul

 If Covid has taught us anything. It has shown us in stark relief that life ends! Memento Mori. I hope humankind(I didn't write "mankind" to avoid "offending.., "  who knows what verbal gymnastics one has to writhe through in the near future to avoid offending who knows who😷🤐, or what!) eventually understands that all men or women or... in 2021 are still the same type of beasts that scavenged with vultures for leftover hyena kills in  Africa just 200000 years ago and nothing that he or she(thanks Monty Python) does can change that. We should all be humble, Why- just 50 years ago, a Willys Jeep leftover from WWII was a sight to behold for village kids in some corners of the world(most people won't know what a "Willys Jeep" is or a "Spitoon" but then..) That's the historical and so called evolutionary theory part of my message(FB post.)

  My other message is, be thankful for life, and "let everything that has breath, praise the lord."

Stay safe and be humble. It all ends...and all the time-there is probably nothing new anywhere, anytime, the Sun also rises! Saigon was Kabul or Kabul was Saigon. The deep stealth Taliban want us all to bow down and be obedient and in a century while we were/are or will be still nostalgic about a "Pan Am" space station, we might have to ultimately bow down to the true faith of Muad'dib and live in a desert. Life might not be tolerable but it will still end!

L.Tusing

An innocent banded krait

A venomous banded krait caused quite a commotion slithering near my gate. It wasn't a big fellow; just into his teens, I should think. This species is not known for its aggression or nimbleness- being a lethargic serpent species. I let the chap slither away unmolested into the park. I didn't at all mind the young gentleman serpent out on his evening stroll through the colony and the wider world; more importantly, my dogs didn't mind him at all, which must mean he was an OK fellow. But, as is the habit of homo sapiens around these parts, passersby and layabouts in the vicinity were quick to film, gabble about and spectate like incorrigible voyeurs, disturbing the fine sensibilities of the young snake and forcing him to hide in the bushes. That's humans for you. That's my snake story update for today, hopefully my next update on snakes will be titled- "The spectacle caused by a spectacled Cobra."

CHOICES IN LIFE- BANKS AND BANKERS

When banks want to screw you; they do a good job, what are your choices in life when it comes to banks and bankers. May I suggest a few.

Scenario 1: You are neck deep in a river, stuck between a well armed banker on a boat and a crocodile Best choice: Embrace the crocodile-it only wants to eat you, the banker wants your soul.

Scenario 2: An apocalyptic event has overtaken the world and a searing, flame ringed, sputtering wall of lava, 500 meters high is engulfing your city, you can feel the scalding heat on your face as you race away from the inferno, the bank building with its armored vault is the only place of possible refuge. Best choice: Walk into the lava! bank vaults trap souls for all eternity.

Scenario 3: Suicide bombers have overtaken your local bank and come out with a list of demands which must be agreed to within four hours or else they blow up the bank and kill everyone inside, you are the chief of police. Best Choice: Do nothing. Because one should never negotiate with terrorists.


Scenario 4:You have six friends on facebook because you are such a loser that even the guys with fake profiles wouldn't add you. Five of them are bankers and the remaining one is a stalker who keeps sending you his soiled undies. Best choice: Unfriend the five bankers, the stalker is your fan! He might not be such a bad guy at all.

I REMEMBER A DAY IN JUNE

I remember her laughter and then, I remember…

…I remember a day in June and the way the river looked as we came down to it, a brown serpent surging between the hills. It flowed cool and hurried amid the green lushness; a creature born of water, silt, and time. I remember the smell of wet mud that clung to everything and above us; clouds crowded the sky from rim to rim, ready to flail at the earth.

We walked barefoot, on the banks of the river, on pebbly silt flecked with the shells of clams, because there was nowhere else to be in town and nothing to do except to be with each other. I remember her eyes, shining like silver almonds through the veil of rain and how her girlish banter rose like a song above the sounds of the river, and that we had the time, to talk of everything and nothing. I remember the taste of her lips; the scent of her cheap Burmese perfume, the warmth in her tongue, the tautness of her body against mine; and how; her breasts rebelled in my palms.

I remember her laughter, a lost melody of my youth, how it bound me to her like an enchantment, on the road back to town. I remember the easy purr of the Vespa on the slick roads, how the sound of the engine and her voice melded in my ears. I remember too well, those other sounds, as we slid past the shuttered houses in the village, past the soldiers, on the road crossing the cemetery.

The years have passed like a staccato of rifle fire, and those other sounds grow louder and threaten to drown out the memory of that June day. It is at such times that I hear the sound of that lost melody of my youth. That laughter that was also an enchantment and I am bound once more to her, and I can remember that I am a creature born of memory, blood, and time.

Then.... I remember a day in June…

Lalsiemdik Tusing, 23/10/13.