Sunday Mornings at Tekka Market

As a kid I have always enjoyed going to the market with my grandmother. It was a weekend trip I looked forward to. The fresh yu char kuey and 'butterfly' fried in that large frying pan, the live chickens that try to peck your hands while you wait for the butcher to slaughter them. The stinky stench that can only be removed after a good shower. Those were the days that counted towards my memorable childhood. 

After 17 years, this year, I once again was able to experience those memorable days but with a rather more interesting, sophisticated and witty take to it. 

Every Sunday for the past two months, I have been following my mother to Tekka wet market. It is a half an hour drive from my place but it worth every morning getting up at 0730hrs. You see, the first thing you will notice as you enter the back stairs of the market (near the underground carpark) is the Paris Jazz music being blasted throughout the area. The first time I went to the market, I thought I must be dreaming. Who places good jazz french music in a wet market? Apparently, this vegetable stall does. I would be dancing and tapping my feet as I help my mother get the vegetables for the week. After which I would have a conversation with the stall owner who seems to have taken a liking to me (looks like all the stall owners do, I will tell you the story as you read on) questions me if I can cook and evaluates my cooking skills as we converse. In between my mother contributes her critical view on how I can cook but there is always room for improvement (what is new with mothers?). 

Then I would move on to my favourite fish stall. Now that place is where I am truly discover the world of seafood. For instance, a few weeks ago I learnt what type of fish is suitable to feed babies and toddlers and I have to say, it is quiet an expensive fish. Today, I met two Malay men, who taught me how to identify a female crab from a male crab and how to choose fleshy crabs. A mist the conversation, I did ask the men if the male or female is more fleshy and the stall owner interrupted by saying, "male loh. We all so handsome!" I couldn't help asking that gentleman who gave me that remark if the handsome male would give me a discount and surprisingly he did (art of charming) and after which  as I left, I said,  "Thank you handsome". A cheeky smile and "thanks lady" was the reply in return. It was clearly a flirty and knowledgeable morning for me. But what I am impressed is the way people interact in the market. It is just a friendly sociable place. The stall owners know you after two or three visits (at least for me) and the exchange of knowledge is remarkable. I find the whole atmosphere so colourful. 

Well, talking about colourful, three weeks ago, the women whose stall sells dried stuff had an episode which I became a shield for her. My mom and I were busy buying things when both my mother and the stall owner noticed a cockroach climbing up the near by chair. Both she and my mother freaked out and started screaming and she ran and hid behind me until her older brother came and grab the pest and threw it out the market. It was hilarious to be in the mist of the action and later watch the sigh of relief and bitching of the cockroach- haters club, consisting of my mother and that stall owner. I was clearly bemused and highly entertained. 

I truly enjoy visiting the market. The music, the stench and the amazing communications reminds me of my childhood days. Children nowadays have no idea what a market truly is. I happen to discover this amazing jewel right here in Singapore. But I have to comment, it is a evolving market and one I am sure will continue to evolve.  

Return of A Tale of Two Cities (RTTC): Grumpel's Offer

I recently discovered a new interest in continuing a Tale of Two Cities which I have written quite extensively about. I have introduced some new characters into the story. Any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is purely coincidental. Enjoy!!!

Trevor ran his fingers down the young prostitute’s back. She giggled and wrapped her hands around his neck and hugged him closer. A young lass nevertheless, quite experienced from the way she ran her hands through the back of his head, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Don’t you want to go up now Captain Hart?” asked the prostitute, moving her hands down the front of his pants.

Trevor grabbed her hand and placed it on her thighs, “Not really” he said dryly.

“Come on, Captain Hart, a charming man as yourself must have desires for a hot lass like myself?” She slowly traced her fingers down her fully blossomed peaches.

“Of course, I have desires,” he smiled warily. A glint in his eyes. “But, I was just wondering, do you tend to lower yourself to all sorts of men because it makes you feel beautiful or you do it because you are a creature that has no control of your insatiable lust for men?”

The colours drained off her face momentarily, only to be replaced with a huge crimson colour that made her look like a bull in a fighting ring. She rose from his lap and without a word, spit on him, missing him from an inch and turned her heels and walked away.

Trevor was used to such reactions and worst from women. It has become a habit that he finds hard to let go. Trevor was becoming bored with the norm. Women were all the same. Usually smitten by his beauty and charisma, they never seemed to get enough of him. Of the women he met and shared his bed with, some were smart and others were just plain stupid.

The bar was starting to fill up with more pirates and their escorts for the night. It was getting stuffy and Trevor was in need for a breath of fresh air. He grabbed his rum and slide out the back door like a phantom.

The night was cool and Trevor felt the cold breeze hit his face as he walked through the forest. It was a full moon and nature’s touch of lighting to the atmosphere made it so much calming to his nerves. He wandered where his legs took him and ended at open space with some rocks clustered in the middle. Trevor had walked a long distance, judging from the slight ache from his calve muscles. He decided to rest on the rocks soaking in the natural ambience.

“Beautiful isn’t it, Trevor?”

Trevor felt a familiar sense of heat running through his body. A voice, so cold and familiar that he could never forget it. A voice that should have been silenced a long time ago. A voice belonging to the infamous, dark master who hold the power of immortality. 

“Grumpel” he growled.

A dark smoke materialised in front of him, followed by what seems like a human figure and before Trevor could blink his eyes, Grumpel, the dark lord was in front of him. Trevor did not flinch looking at the creature of peculiar nature. Grumpel has not changed since the last time he saw him which was incidentally 3 years ago. He was still the scaly- looking human with piercing eyes of a reptile. He grinned at Trevor through his disfigured teeth.

“Nice to know, you have not forgotten me. Oh wait, of course you can’t. After all, I was the one who played a minor role in getting Mika killed” he sneered.

Trevor, closed his eyes. He remembered that fateful night as if it was yesterday. Mika, the wife of a sailor, willingly came with him on the night of the raid. She was an intelligent and lovely woman, who stole Trevor’s heart. She was older than him by age but her enthusiasm was far exceeding that of a young lass. He loved her and she had always been faithful to him. However, Mika’s weakness for the need for gold made her an easy prey for Grumpel, whose main strength was turning anything into gold. In a raid, due to her greed, Trevor lost Mika who, was stabbed in front of him by his arch enemy. Despite that, Mika still held a special place in his heart.

“Still reminiscing?” interrupted Grumpel.

Trevor opened his eyes. “What do you wanr Grumpel?”

“Nothing at all. Just a small favour from the Great Captain Hart, but nothing impossible I have to add, “ he grinned.

“ Stop layering your misdeed and tell me what you want.” Trevor’s patience was wearing very thin.

“Alright. I need you to kidnap someone for me. Now, I must warn you, she is an ordinary girl but with a huge gift. I need you to get her for me”

Trevor smiled. “And what gift does she have, may I ask?”

“That is none of your concern. Just get me that girl!” Grumpel’s voice was rising.

“Calm down Grumpel. It was an innocent question. So you want the girl. Great! But what do I get in return?”

“A bargain I see Trevor, well, I will offer you a special knife which allows you to kill Petrina. After all, she is the one you have a trifle with and I know how much you guys are at slitting each other’s throats”

Trevor got off the rocks, at the mention of Petrina. Now, this was one woman, he wanted cold dead. That daughter of a gun had killed his crew members mercilessly after looting from them. Which princess would do that? That cunning bitch! He had been plotting to kill her from the day, she set his eyes on her killing his crew men.

“Deal!”

“Great! Now make your way to Petrina’s castle. She will be having a grand ball for her engagement. There you will find what I have asked you for.”

“Petrina is getting engaged? To who?”

Grumpel smiled, “Aren’t we all excited? Well, that is a surprise you need to find out on your own.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. What’s new with Grumpel.  He turned his back to make his way to the bar.

“Oh Trevor, you can’t be going to a ball dressed like that?”

In an instance, Trevor was surrounded by a huge smoke of purple and he brushed the smoke away. Grumpel was gone but Trevor was cladded in one of the most polished silk and great shining shoes.

“Damn, formalities!” 

The plot thickens (Inglis)

Ratel watched her from a distance. She was completely in absorbed in the conversation with her the guy sitting opposite her. She was clearly very excited and was spending more time talking rather than eating her aglio olio.

She was nearly exactly how she would be when he met her on the other side. The only difference was that she was more animated in reality and she definitely fidgeted a lot more. He found her very entertaining to watch and perceived that the person whom she was speaking to must be very much entertained by her.

“You know Ken. I cannot believe that he would have done something like that. Gosh! He is so fussy sometimes. But nonetheless, without him we would never have met” laughed Inglis. She was really glad to have met Ken. He was around her brother’s age, yet he was able to relate to her better. Maybe because he thought more like a guy but was far more emotional to be one. Sometimes having Ken around was like having a little sister to talk to

Ratel saw the way Inglis eyes twinkled at certain parts of the conversation. He admired the dimples which appeared each time she laughed. Her hair bundled up with thin loose hair falling on her cheeks. Her lips… he swallowed. He remembered how she tasted when he kissed her. That fateful night. He wanted to experience it over and over again. He wanted to be near her, hear her voice , touch her. Ratel got up and moved over to the counter to pay for his coffee. She would never recognize him. He made sure he disguised himself well, especially his scent, which, she was very familiar with. Yet, he moved with caution. The cash counter was near to where she was sitting and he wanted to make sure that nothing would trigger her to suspect he was there. As he approached the counter, he realized that the Inglis had stopped speaking.

“So Inglis, did you manage to find out who this mysterious spirit is that seems to appear to you when you least expected?” asked Ken with his mouth full of squid ink pasta.

Inglis sighed “No I wish I knew. You are right Ken. This mysterious spirit seem to have taken a liking to me. In fact, he appeared three nights ago in my room. But that stupid thing did not have the courtesy to present itself formally. It just stood beside my bed and you know Ken, my room was so cold that night that I slept with my sheets over my head. Imagine the shock I had when I pulled my sheets down and turned over to see a face staring at me!” she cried.

“Ooh you had a glimpse of his face? What did it look like?” exclaimed Ken. He was nearly screaming. Ken had never seen an angel or demon or even a dead cockroach spirit in his life but he had never fail to believe that they existed. "So, come on Inglis, what was he like?" 

"Well, he was tall and very fair and he was wearing a red and white collared polo T-shirt. In fact he looked like Wally from the book, 'Finding Wally'. Yeah, come to think of it. Yes, that was what he looked like. 

Ratel's jaws nearly dropped. "Isis!" 

"Sir that would be four fifty" 

Ratel looked at the cashier. "Four fifty sir" 

He took out his cash and made his payment. He was lost in his thoughts. Ratel did not understand. Why would Isis pay Inglis a visit? He was the head soul catcher for the devil's council (Teful Churlen). What would he want with Inglis?

The conversation was already over between the two and they were talking about heading back home. Ratel quickly made his exit out of the French restaurant. He needed to find the only person who would be able to shed light on this matter.

"Isis" 

The girl who never cried

The girl who never cried

She stood there waiting

She never moved

Her eyes watching and waiting

Not a twitch, nor a sigh

The Nurse was all so familiar

With the procedure due

She slight the needle in

Deep, inch by inch

Until it hit her bone

Yet no reaction

Her breathing was normal

Just like as if she was resting

Fully awake and yet dead

The needle sucked all in

Way too much for her to bear

Yet, she just stared

The procedure was over.

The Nurse had to ask

“Don’t you feel pain?”

For once the girl’s pupils moved

They looked right into hers.

The very essence of her soul

In a smallest whisper she replied

“I am PAIN”

lingehswari

A night with the mad hatter

She wandered as he spoke,

A meadow of graves

A shadow in the distance

A familiarity, a comfort

The mad hatter in the middle

He spoke a strange tongue

Littered with in-betweens

Iced with banter of intellect

She sieved him silently

Too fast to comprehend

She appeared dumb

Too little he knew

Too much she was reading

She opened her mouth, silent.

Words frozen in time,

Magnitude of truth, she had sorted

The mad hatter went on

She stood still, speechless

He went on, insult after insult

She still waits to speak

Matters of the hatters’ denial  

Lingehs

15 July

2345hrs 

Death gets a clue from Michael

The wheezing was slowing down. It was nearly time. Carl Rozario was taking his last breathe and he was making no effort to stay alive. He was happy to go. After all the hard work on earth, it was time to move on. He slowly turned to see the figure lazing on the sofa with a glass of vodka in his hands. Carl Rozario coughed loudly and yet the figure did not stir at all. Carl Rozario coughed again.

Death could feel her next to him. Her sweet pheromones embracing him, blending into one. He could still feel her soft skin on him. Her lips. Gosh, they were killing him. The taste was still on him. It has been days and yet it felt as if he had just kissed her. He muscles tightened when he saw the scene of Inglis disappearing replayed in front of him. It was too much for him to bear. He opened his eyes to jazz.

"Bobby Darin, I guess I'm good for nothing but the blues" coughed a voice.

Death turned to face the figure on the bed. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the poorly lit room. As his vision cleared, he realised that the figure was no ordinary being. " Michael?"

Michael was sitting near Carl Rozario with a glass of vodka on his hand. He turned to face the lifeless body.

"Carl Rozario. Hmm, poor chap was wondering why there were two death angels in his room. Told him that it was none of his business and led him over."

Death was staring straight at Michael.

" Ratel Maya, are you alright dude?"

Death looked at Michael. It has been a while since someone actually called him by his real name. Michael was really worried. He had known Ratel since he started out as a beginning death angel. Ratel had shown him the ropes despite being his boss. He was patient and kind and fierce when he needed to. But what was more important was that he respected everyone and appreciated what they were doing. He was strong and tough but today he was very much troubled.  

"It's her right.... Inglis?"

Death  closed his eyes and threw his head back. It was tearing Michael apart watching him in this state.

"You know, you could get her if you wanted..."

"No... not by force... not in that way" he replied without opening his eyes. The jazz was so soothing and he just wanted to lose himself in the music.

"Well... there is a way..."

Death peered open his right eye and saw Michael walk towards him. Death realised that Michael, though not as experienced as him, looked much older than Him. He looked old enough to be his elder brother, which he once had as a mortal. Michael sat himself opposite Death and his lovely semi-gray eyes stared right into Death's eyes.  A stare that Death knew meant business and also a crazy one.

"Ratel, come on, all you need to do is to select the next Death and you can step down... be a mortal again"

Death took a sip from his vodka glass. "You know that is a huge risk I am taking. You saw the candidates, you honestly think they qualify?"

Michael did not reply. He was staring intensively at Death. Suddenly, his pupils dilated.

"You are afraid of letting go, aren't you?" he grinned.

Death, got up. He did not want Michael to see his face. He did not want him to have the satisfaction that he was right.  Death did not want anyone to see his vulnerability.

Michael continued. " Ratel, you need to let go of your fears. You have lost every single loved one in your five births. I know it hurts terribly. You accepted the job because you have become immune to pain or at least learn to accept it. But today after centuries, you have started falling for this girl. And you know your contract is coming to an end. You can't deprive yourself of such an opportunity."

Death knew he was making sense and yet he could not accept the reality. He turned to face Michael. "Mike tell me, what is so special about this girl? I mean I have had my fun with many girls, demons, name it, look she will go away soon. You want me to risk my current vocation for this girl, who may leave?"

"What if she was no ordinary girl? What if she is the daughter of ...." Michael bit his lips. Gosh, he had given too much information. Michael needed to keep the information confidential before he get his head literally severed by his Big Bosses.

"Daughter of? Michael, who is Inglis???" With one stride, he was standing infront of Michael and grabbed his collar. His eyes pierced into Michael's. Michael could feel his fury burning him. Michael cried in agony. 

"Please Ratel. It hurts" he cried

"Then tell me,who she is?" he bellowed. Death was shaking all over. Something in Him clicked. All this while he has been thinking that Inglis was another special case. Another reincarnate death angel who had to finish her job on earth, or at least that was what he was told by the rest in the council. He was to watch over her. But no matter what, it is impossible for a mere angel to be able to call upon Death and control demons the way she had done over the past few years. There was more to her. And He was desperate to know.  

"Ratel, I can't tell you everything. I will be executed in a horrible manner. But all I have to say is that , she is as powerful as you are. She is no mere small fry in the hierarchy. She is bloody powerful and she is slowly learning it. She is the daughter of a very powerful figure. That is all I can say." Michael was on his knees and tears were streaking down his face. That was all Death needed from Michael to confirm his long grown suspicions which were hidden deep down inside.  

Death had no idea what he was feeling. But all he knew was he needed to find out her real identity. That was his driving force. With that thought, he disappeared in search of Inglis in the mortal world. 

picture from www.goodreads.com

Death's intimate kiss

Death had not seen such a determination in her eyes. “Alright, but it is not going to be a Chris Pine, that I bet you.”

“I don’t care even if you look like the Phantom of the Opera or the Hunchback of Notredame. I want to see your mortal form… or the last mortal form you took.”

“Well, I only had one mortal form despite being born 5 times. I am the- wandering- Jew- type, have you forgotten? Oh well… you sure about it?”

Inglis nodded her head.

Death closed His eyes and a slight breeze blew over. Inglis held her breath. Slowly, under the moonlight, she saw him slowly transform from toe to head.  Inglis gasped. Her eyes opened wide. She could not believe her eyes.

Death’s mortal form was no taller than Chris Pine. He was Caucasian guy with hazel brown hair and a small beard which gave him a roughed look. He opened his eyes and stared at Inglis. He had a good frame and was rather good looking. Inglis moved closer into the moonlight.

“I have seen you before, haven’t I?”

Death did not move his gaze. “Yes, I first met you in London. You went out to get bread and I was going to collect a soul in that district. I was the guy who spoke to you in the streets.”

“That explains why you disappeared suddenly,” she interjected as she moved closer to him. Inglis had no idea why she was doing what she was doing. She moved closer to him and slowly took his hands and put it around her waist. He held her other hand and held her close. She was still looking at him and he at her.

At a distance, the band was playing Linda Ronstadt’s - When I Fall In Love. The moment felt perfect. Inglis didn’t bother about her surrounding except for one thing; she was dancing in the arms of a guy she had met on the streets last year. She felt somewhat safe and warm despite knowing that she was dancing with Death.

Death had never felt so much alive. He was holding the hands of a girl whom he had become fond of. She was no longer a girl. In a second she had transformed into a lady. He was a mortal for once. He liked her touch, but he liked her lips even more. As the music came to a slow stop, Death did something he always wanted to do. His lips descended on her.

His lips came down upon hers, gentle yet demanding. She tasted sweet, really sweet. God, she was killing him. He grabbed her closer and his hands caressed her back. She shivered and slowly opened her mouth wider. His kiss deepened. She moaned. Death was excited, his desire was slowly becoming lust. She kissed him back. She was a good kisser, no wonder men were crazy about kissing her. She grabbed his shoulders and pressed him closer to her. It had been a long while since Inglis had such an intense kiss. Death was becoming a better kisser than the guy who taught her to kiss. The guy she had place in the pinnacle for a long time. Death slided his hands down her back and squeezed her butt. She gasped and drew her head back. Death moved his lips down her throat and she moaned deeper. Death felt his blood rushing rapidly into his groins. She grabbed his head and pulled it back and licked his ears. This time it was Death's turn to groan. He so badly wanted to lay her down and explore every inch of her body.

Suddenly, he could no longer feel her. He, himself was not moving. Nothing was moving. He felt a strong suction against him. A huge warmth. It suddenly struck him. He wanted to yell but all he could do was to watch Inglis slowly vapourise in front of Him.

Inglis was going back to her body.

She was waking up from meditation. 

Inglis' challenge to Death

Death led the last soul into the light when he heard a strange music in the air.

“Jazz?”

The next thing he knew was that he was walking into a club. It was a cozy little club with a live jazz band which was exceptionally good. Death found himself swaying from side to side. The lighting in the club made it look as if he was in Paris in the middle of winter. It was romantically refreshing.

“Table 27 sir”

Death was so taken in with the ambiance that he did not realise the wide-eyed waitress standing infront of him . She was probably not over the age of 20 and she was blushing and lowering  her eyelashes at him.

“Why, thank you!” Death wondered why she was looking at him in that manner. As he walked, trying to locate the table sign 27 on the tables, he caught many women staring and giggling at him. It was odd. He wondered whose appearance he has taken this time. He crossed a wall with a huge mirror and caught his reflection.

“Chris Pine. That explains,”  he licked his finger and smeared it over his eyebrow. “Perfect”.

As he continued walking, he eyes caught a figure near the balcony. It was a figure he seemed to be very aware of. His heart skipped a beat. She was leaning against the railing. Her silhouette was full- figured. The cutting of the night lacy cocktail dress exposed her beautiful Latin legs and her long brown back. Her red hair was glowing in the moonlight.  Death felt blood rush to his loins. Now, that was a feeling he had never felt for a long time. He found himself moving faster towards her.

Inglis could feel the presence of Death approaching. For once she was looking forward to seeing Him. She could not phantom how she managed to land herself in such an amazing place. She knew she was doing her meditation and then the music turned into something Jazzy and now she was here waiting for Death. She wanted to see Death. She just wanted to.

“Nice ambiance!” lnglis turned to face Death. She was surprised to see Chris Pine staring at her. She liked Chris Pine, who wouldn’t anyway?  She had to remind herself  that it was Death. She looked into his eyes.

Death could not take his eyes of her. She was so ravishing. He wished he could touch her. The thought of running his hands down her back, feeling the softness of her skin, knowing each and every aspect of her body, was getting to his head. He gripped the handle to steady himself. He suddenly saw her looking at him intensively. She seemed to be searching for something in His eyes.

Inglis was wondering what Death actually looked like. She was looking for His past in his light blue eyes.

“What are you looking for?” asked Death who could not help smiling, watching her expression change every second.

“Hmm… wondering how you would look. I mean , I am sure you were born as a human once. I wonder how you looked?” 

 Death smiled. “Why are you suddenly so interested in how I look like? I thought you had fun with mortals, like Lesi and Juan.” Death stopped abruptly. He should not have said that. He knew what had happened with Lesi and Inglis (and he was lucky she is still pure) and was very close in granting her wish of killing him. But He knew it was not in his capacity to do so. He had a price to pay and it was not His responsibility. He saw her lower her eyelashes. She was hurt and he knew why. She had seen him with another girl. Though she knew he was sick in his head, she was a girl after all and this was another disappointment for her again. Though she was immune to disappointment, she did feel a bit of pain. 

The house suddenly roared. The live band was playing, ‘flying me to the moon’. Inglis looked up, her eyes were bright. She grabbed His hands. He was stunned.

“Inglis! Don’t you feel anything?” He gasped. She smiled a cheeky smile.

“If I could create this, I must also have the ability to block the memories and its effect from me. I do feel it but it is very mild. It took me a while to control it and meeting you many times did help. No worries. Follow me, “ and she dragged him down a spiral staircase which led them to a garden. It was beautiful open space surrounded with flora and fauna. She stopped where the moon was shining. It was a sight to behold and the band could be heard clearly from where they stood.

“ I am over mortals Death. Sometimes handling my own demons and my own kind is far more suitable for me. Will you dance with me? I feel relieved that my episode with Lesi is over. I just want to dance in this world I have created. So, will you do me the honors?”

Inglis’ eyes were twinkling and he could not help  but give into her request. He moved forward and was about to reach to hold her hands, when she moved back.

“No, not as Chris Pine, but as yourself. A mortal form”

“Inglis, you got to be kidding…” but Inglis was not joking. She folded her hands and waited.