I’m consigned to a world of my own,
Other characters standing mightily alone,
“Have I skipped a beat”, I ask my clone,
I’m resigned to be prone to a different zone.
Situations fold and unfold to a varying sew,
I thread wherethro’ with hardly a clue,
Normalcy appears to have many a skew,
Shrouded with the surreal and the mundane hue.
The world changes with a passing fright,
Beckoning me with all its fanciful might,
As reality is distorted with frightening sleight,
We are pushed to the edge to take the flight.
When awareness crosses its tantalising brink,
Our lives dance to the predestined link,
Conjuring untrammelled without a blink,
As lives are transformed in barely a wink.
A bearing so trivial yet an effect so believable,
A sense of realness yet containing the inconceivable,
I brace myself, losing control to your enticing label,
And wake up with a start as I destroy your cable.
Published in ‘The Copperfield Review’:Wide Awake
I would begin by saying that lately I’ve had a bee in my bonnet about all things that begin with and contain the near syllable of ‘be ’. So, it behoves me not to tread a beaten path and let things ‘be’ .To bee or not to bee? Certainly, to bee! The bee, far from being belittled, would be the befitting be, so to speak. The bee’s drawl only epitomizes its keen sense of belonging to the class of ‘bes’ by setting high social and industrial standards. When one is besotted with the task of playing beekeeper, it would only be natural for it to create a buzz of excitement. I’m being in the thick of things yet walking on thin ice!
Without beating about the bush, it would only be becoming of me to begin with a “be-ginning”. It signals the start and end of things without so much as what comes in between. When something is the be-all and end-all, one’s bespectacled vision betrays one’s beloved belief. In matters of high spirits, the bean bag is hardly anything to go by when one is full of beans! At a beanfeast or beano, if anything, bean curd would be preferred to bean sprouts or bean stalks. When one is besmirched, one’s image could take a beating. A beefeater is a guard at The Tower of London, who for all you know, could be a vegetarian.
When one uses a belay, one believes it would be their beacon of guidance and support, wishing nothing belies that belief. A benighted beatnik with a bezoar would dance to the sound of bebop while listening to “Begin the Beguine” on a beat-box! A benumbed beadle, on the other hand, would not let the begirded bezoar becloud his being and treats it betimes to ensure it is begone! Begrimed, bestrewn betel nuts, besmeared with mud are bedewed with water so that mud from the bedaubed nuts would be gone with the effect of besprinkling in order not to befoul them. If one is already bemused, beware of the drone of be(e)s to follow !
When capital punishment was the order of the day, woe betide the person who would be beheaded if he didn’t behave! The bereaved would then bewail the loss and bequeath a legacy at his behest, even as they’re left bereft. Regardless of the bequest, some would be bestirred into action and berate the beastly authority involved. The beleaguered behemoth authority would then behead more or be beheaded (as the case may be).
Back in the day, when a famous magician came to Beijing, people would make a beeline to be beguiled by his bewitching acts. He beefs it up by bestriding a befriended horse, makes a few gestures and lo and behold, turns it into a beaver! What became of the horse? The beady-eyed audience tries to beat its brains in bewilderment as it’s beside itself with awe! They bestow him with smiles and honours. He would feel beatitude like never before as he imagines himself beatified.
A young lady would be besotted, in a heartbeat, to a benign man and get betrothed to become his ‘Biwi-to-be’. She would later realize that she was befooled and what was benign before is not to be! She learns that love doesn’t always beget love and is beset with problems beyond belief. Bedevilled and unwilling to be beholden to him, she beats a retreat and tries to put the past behind her, unaware of the fate that would befall her.
At a party near a beach, a hall bedecked with begonias would await bedizened and besuited guests. A beachcomber would obstruct people in beachwear playing with a beachball that takes a course to destroy the beaverboard. A maid would clumsily wield her besom, to bespatter the beetroot juice on her gown, kept beneath the beech-wood stool. The bejewelled host beats the clock, works behind the scenes, avoids being behindhand and bedazzles one and all with her beatific smile. Beefsteaks and beefburgers are gobbled by beefy people. Some guests would come on behalf of others. Some would speak behind her back. Some would bemoan not having been invited while others would gatecrash. Few others would offer a belated greeting.
On a hot day, when the sun is beating down and fair-weather is betokened, students begrudgingly betake themselves to a chemistry class. The mild teacher beseeches them to pay attention and belabours the point not realizing that for the class her lessons are beside the point! She uses a beaker for demonstration but the class has sights set on other beaked creatures outside. When it’s their turn, they are befuddled and their methods are off-beam. Beads of sweat become evident as she packs them off with their belongings to the beetle-infested chamber below to be besieged by bewigged Beelzebubs who would beat the bejesus out of them.
If one is befogged by the number of ‘bes’ it’s only the beginning of the end of the drone of my bees that’s been very unbecoming! Just as a bean counter would exercise budgetary control, high time I learnt to manage my ‘bes’. My so-called beneficent beehive comprises ‘bes’ that generally take one avatar and would typically entice more ‘bes’ in time. With the old ‘bes’ having joined the party, time will come when the newb(ie)s start creating a buzz!
Being a beekeeper is proving not to bee! Bedraggled, I take off my beanie and wish to be on a ship becalmed for days on end. Be that as it may, I become aware of a beagle crossing the road, nearly missing a beat-up truck. I check out the beta-version of my friend’s bespoke software and realize that I must have forgotten something, because it went ‘beep’!