The Autumn Kiss August 28, 2008

**I am publishing my short story here which is an excerpt from a short novel I am working on (working on selling it really!!). I thought I would publish few excerpts on my other blog but since this is my most popular blog and gets good traffic I would also publish my short stories here. So here enjoy the first installment. Please note that this is copyrighted. You are not allowed to reproduce or copy it in part or in entirety. By all means contact me for comments, suggestions or if you’re a literary agent or a publisher! If you want to publish it on your print publication, let me know.

You’re welcome to link to this story from your blog or website but you cannot copy.

Let me say that this is a great honor to bring it to worthy readers who might come across this blog. God bless Internet for bridging the gap between a writer and his readers**

The Autumn Kiss

Readers, you might call this a narrative about a Gothic landscape, an autumn and a romantic confusion. But of course will I leave it to you.

Eden was having the last days of autumn now and I loved autumn. It still stayed very warm during daytime but you began to experience cool or even cold nights by the middle of October. Winters were extremely beautiful- at least I think so. Winter is my favorite time of year in any part of the world; including the face of the earth where this story’s Eden was- that corresponds to about 32 degrees north of the equator. Which also makes it, roughly, an antipode of Texas, especially Georgia, South Carolina and the adjacent Atlantic Ocean. It means that if the rogues of Eden were brave enough to dig a huge hole in the ground, they might have ended up in the Southern United States, if they could make it alive to the other end of the earth that also happened to be land instead of Atlantic Ocean.

If you don’t mind my weaving geographical yarns, I would like to mention a few things about the climes of Eden. The intensity of sunshine in Eden was about the same as Australia’s- Sydney also is almost 32 degrees (33.55S) away from equator, in the Southern Hemisphere. But of course, as I often do, I can’t help boasting that Eden and the larger region around it had the hottest summertime temperatures than any other densely populated big region. At summer’s peak this whole region blazed as hot as let’s say Riyadh, Baghdad and Phoenix, Arizona in July.

The winters in Eden didn’t have the dramatic weather like snowfall but still it could get really cold when nighttime temperatures could creep below freezing because of the continental climate. Short but cold winters really stood out as people were used to enduing extremely hot weather most of the year. It was by late November when most trees started to shed their frost-bitten, yellow, brittle leaves. After the trees had cast off all of their leafy cloaks, for a couple of months all you saw was a landscape dotted with odd ghostly bare trees that seemed to have given up on life and died forever. Poplar trees with their gigantic skeletons rising into the cold dull sky looked uniquely strange.

At night, frosts could occur. Another notable feature of the region’s winters was the thick fogs which sometimes seemed to linger and float for days, and you wouldn’t see any sunlight, but just a hoary pall of thick grey fog. At night when people were buried under piles of blankets, quilts to keep themselves warm, street dogs howled at the invisible moon that was blotted out by thickly frozen air. Many people said the dogs could see the life forms from the infernal regions. As the eerie howls resonated throughout the night people became uneasy and often chanted or muttered holy hymns to keep evil spirits away. It was all very unnerving and Gothic.

As for daytime fogs, they often escalated to become smog because of fires and coal heaters that poor folks used, to keep them from freezing. People found the sunless days very glum and depressing, especially as they were used to the long, hot, incandescent summers.

I must mention that in those days when the events of this story took place the region around Eden really didn’t seem crowded at all and there were plenty of secluded places even in big cities. By further accentuating this desolation the coldest winters and hottest summers days turned the Eden into a ghost town. Mothers warned their children that- if they were not careful and loitered about- most evil spirits can enter their bodies on cold winter nights and hot summer afternoons when they must stay indoors to be safe. Some kids were so spooked by these descriptions that they often confessed to having seen evil spirits swirling around thorny bushes and lonesome acacia trees or in the mirages that formed when ghostly vapors seemed to rise from the tar covered roads under the burning sun.

But now, with the breakneck increase in population and new constructions all that empty space that fed the imagination is lost and gone forever.

The most appealing thing about autumn and winter for me was the natural freshness and healing that cold brought to me. Most of the invasive insects, filthy house flies (that seemed to be everywhere all the time) and hideous lizards (that always terrified me for some reason) either died or hibernated when it was frosty. For these reasons I always found the cold very stimulating, relaxing and wholesome. And there were no more streams of sticky sweat, blisters and rashes on my skin from the fire that fell from sky for most of the year.

In cold weather, people wore woolen clothes and they looked well padded and cute, at least the cute ones did. I always loved the sweaters and my forbidding mother had the keenest eye for all sorts of expensive pullovers, Jerseys that would look gorgeous when they wrapped someone with my age, shape, size, skin tone, hair style etc. In a way, in the wintertime, my mother was the artist and I her work. For this reason, I always let her buy me sweaters even though in almost every other thing I just told her to stay out of my life and leave me alone.

But let’s get back to the big scandalous event of this story. It was autumn and I was happy. For some reasons that I cannot really remember, I and my friends and partners in wanton crimes the Twins were not going out anymore, for our illicit smoking expeditions. Maybe we did not find it very appealing to sit on some tree branch in the wilderness and brave the cold breezes. Maybe they were down with bad cold and fevers like many kids were at the onset of winters. Other than that it could also be that autumn was the time for exams in schools, so I might have been too busy sticking my head in the boring text books and hating mathematics, as always, which made no sense to me. But- against my wishes- the scary Mathematics text books always surrounded me, as did the lizards.

We had one general store that had recently opened up in the neighborhood that year. The young guy who owned and ran it had been displaying some imported fancy electronic gadgets in glass cases to entice many teenagers in the area. He showed us some cool, real clever but inexpensive things like a teddy bear who said he loved you if you poked him in the belly, a Christmas card that chimed with musical tunes when you opened it, electronic watches with hundred year calendars and many other features, Key rings that beeped in different tunes if you whistled near them (that way you could never lose your keys, was the idea), little electronic games that used any kind of light (sunlight, electric bulb or tube light) to run, instead of batteries, many small torches that produced colorful lights, intercom phones that could connect bedrooms to kitchens, so husbands could ring and order a cup of tea from their wives who toiled in the kitchen; it could be the other way round in case of henpecked husbands. In short it was an amazing array of little gadgets. The wonderful and affordable red dot laser pointers would not arrive in Eden for at least 5 more years.

This day is clearly etched in my memory. I had bought a really dandy looking calculator with a big screen from the shop. It showed huge digits and gave out a tinkling sound as you pressed any key. Boy was I excited! To begin with I was so stupid at Math and it made me very angry when I could never solve the text book problems fast enough, as I took ages doing calculations. Besides, my answers were often wrong. I pained me to realize that unlike literature and many other subjects if you’re off the mark doing maths then you’ve lost the whole game no matter how much hard work you put into it. And I don’t even want to talk about square roots, LCM (lowest common multiple), HCF (Highest common factor), the multiples, the divisibles and such Mathematical metaphysical claptrap! In short, this calculator was not only so jazzy but it could also carry me through a lot of crap with least possible pain to my literature loving, moony and imaginative brain cells.

I had just asked my angel of a father that I needed the contraption. He dipped his hand in some small leather bag, handed me bunch of bills and said, ‘‘Sure! And here is extra money. Buy more stuff that you may like and also candy, chewing gum, soft drinks whatever you want prince!’’

So, this is how the calculator was in my hands that made me ecstatic, proud and relieved. The evening was a bit chilly and windy. With the religious zeal of a 12 year old for the trivial, I ran off to show the calculator to my best friends.

Ruble opened the door and I almost took a step back in deference; she looked different: Mature and more handsome than usual. She looked very feminine with a hint of boyish oomph. What was different I wondered and then I noticed she had her hair nicely done and had a fancy hair clip on. She smelled fresh and sweet. She had also rouged her cheeks lightly, had fancy ear rings, a lovely scarf around her neck that she wore in a snappy manner that gave her the blasé look. She even had lipstick on: A pretty girl all wrapped up in a very chic arsenal.

She apologized for looking so pretty, ‘‘Gosh! I’m sorry I was playing with mother’s lipstick. Please don’t laugh!’’

I was too excited to comment on that but I asked about her Twin brothers, ‘Ruble! Where are your brothers? I gotta show my pals something!’’

She too was surprised to see me so thrilled, ‘‘They’re not at home. In fact no one is at home.’’

‘‘Yeah? Well, screw them! You’re here! First, please get me a glass of water.’’

I lay on the carpet in front of the TV and switched on my Christmassy calculator that jingled to life. She came back with the water which I gulped down instantly. Joy being an infectious thing, soon she seemed almost as happy as I. She lay beside me on the carpet- on her stomach- and like me rested on her elbows and raised her neck to look at my device like some jaunty cat with a cute scarf around her neck.

‘‘Ruble, this is a miracle and a savior. For God’s sake I don’t even remember simple multiplication tables let alone complex calculations! Here I am dying to demonstrate and the jingles! O God.’’

I made some simple calculations and wanted to show that calculator thinks the same. Like a dolt I took great pride in predicting the answers to things like 7 multiplied by 4 is 28 and cheered when the calculator tinkled with conformity. At that moment something happened. I almost remember it in minute details, as a slow motion flick. I felt a shadow gently overcoming me from the side. Ruble leaned over to my side, from my left side, and slowly but gently brought her lips to my cheek and held them there for at least two seconds.

I froze. I did not turn my head to look at her but stared at the calculator with my mouth half open with awe.

But then I remembered that girls sometimes did that kind of cutesy thing to boys as they get into some kind of girly-kittenish moment. Of course I was no saint but I would have enjoyed it if the caress had come with some sort of -identifiable- prior short notice and had not so rudely interrupted my wild rapturous moment with the machine in my hand.

Other than that, all my short life before teenage I had liked so many girls and women, but I never really actively romanced them or wrote them love notes and stuff like that that many other boys did. I had always been extraordinarily reserved in the matters of heart. Only once, all I had done was hug a girl. I was only about six years old then, when my family lived in some other part of the city. In my neighborhood there were hardly any boys, so I only played with girls. I loved being with them until the older guys everywhere started to make fun of me and said that only girls played with girls.

But being with girls had given me many opportunities of experiencing romantic stuff of sorts that I watched in the movies. One hot afternoon in the backyard of one girl’s house, when everyone was sleeping, I enclosed her in my arms and held her there, leaning against a big shady tree while some little birds twittered up in the bowery branches. I felt very peaceful and she was quiet too.

Then she asked after at least a couple of minutes swooning in my arms, ‘‘Are you hugging me?’’

‘‘Yes’’ I replied.

‘‘Ok’’ She said, having allayed her doubts or whatever girly trivia it was.

That was all I had done but I had to pay for it. Next day she told the other girl we used to play with, called Dimple, about the hugging incident. Dimple was very angry about it and said it was a dirty sin. But Dimple was weird too. Another hot afternoon I was playing with her when my brother came and said, ‘‘Mom is very angry and she wants you home right now!’’

I did not know any swear words when I was six so I just said, ‘‘No!’’

My brother said, ‘‘I forgot to tell you that mother made a cake and dad has just brought a bunch of new comic books. It’s awesome!’’

I could not see through these tactics those days, so I said, ‘‘Yeah? Let’s go then.’’

Suddenly, Dimple got sad about my desertion. She held my hand and spoke, ‘‘Please stay here a minute longer. I want to tell you a secret.’’

She also begged my brother to excuse us for a minute and took me to the back of her house. I was absolutely unsure what secret she wanted to tell me. I was mighty perplexed.

When we reached under some shade that hid us from the blistering sun she was still holding my hand, with both of her hands. I asked, ‘‘What is it? What secret?’’

‘‘I’m a bit shy to tell you.’’

‘‘I’m leaving! Hurry up or I’m going away right now.’’ I was now very annoyed about her messing me around like an idiot.

She blurted it out, ‘‘Please marry me,’’ and clasped my hand harder.

At that time I found it neither shocking nor sweet. I thought it was very stupid of her and a waste of time. Everyone repeated things from the movies all the time: ‘‘I will kill you’’, ‘‘I love you’’, ‘‘Bastard! I will kill you,’’ and now ‘‘Please marry me.’’ How tedious: some kids had no imagination, I thought.

‘‘Is that all?’’

‘‘Yes. Marry me.’’

‘‘Ok. Catch you later.’’ I left and she followed me and my brother up to the main gate of her house. As a farewell she said, ‘‘Don’t tell your brother! Please!’’

When we were on the street my brother asked, ‘‘What secret was she talking about?’’

‘‘She said, ‘please marry me’, she is such a weird girl, this Dimple.’’ I was still annoyed.

My brother laughed and when we reached home he told it to mother who laughed too. I had no idea what the hell was so funny about it. I was so angry because there was neither cake nor comic books for me. I wanted to kill my brother.

Few seconds had passed after Ruble had kissed me on the cheek. It was my first kiss, as in boy and girl kiss. But I had neither sought nor expected it, so it had only shocked me. Then I heard a nervous giggle, ‘‘Sorry. I’m really sorry. Hey tell you what, I just did it to leave my lipstick mark on your cheek and it looks so silly.’’

‘‘Oh. Yeah?,’’ I giggled nervously too, ‘‘Well, in that case would you please remove it because if my mother saw it she will murder me or throw me out on the street to live with the mangy dogs.’’

She almost took it as some military command, ‘‘Sure!’’. She took her hanky and carefully started rubbing out and removing the mark she had left on my cheek moments before.

Soon, I got up to leave and play with my gadget in the safety of my own home, where no one would disturb me with random pecks on the cheek when I wasn’t even looking. But before leaving, I wanted to confirm once more. ‘‘Are you sure it is totally removed, I’m worried!’’

She again giggled nervously, ‘Yes! It is gone. Now get out, will you?’’

I’d never seen her blushing like this. It was almost as if that the evening embers of the dying sun were glowing from her porcelain cheeks.

The new Romance for Today’s Woman. December 5, 2007

Sexually speaking, women have always bowed, bent and gone down on their knees for men. The whole prostitution, massage parlors, brothels, sex tourism, porn industries, Playboys, Hustlers, The Sun’s page 3 girls, foreign women dating services; Russian, Ukrainian, Baltic, East European and Asian Brides.COM are all designed for the male lust. Indeed catering to the male lust is an industry worth billions, internationally.

 

 

I’ve always believed that this one way gratification of lust has all to do with economics. Men have money and power. What bigger instance I can give you than probably the best known and loved romantic novel in modern times, ”Pride and Prejudice.” If you know the plot or story, you would know what I’m trying to say. But this is changing as women have their own purses and the power to fill them, though sometimes through gainful marriages. And divorces. *Kidding* But truly, there can be no women’s liberation without women’s own money and careers. Today, at least in the Western World women have achieved all this or have very good possibility of achieving all this.

 

 

So, the Romantic Landscape and Sexual scenery is changing. First I had read this story about a week ago (Click to read, ”Older White women join Kenya’s sex tourism”) about this burgeoning sex tourism in Kenya where rich (at least by Kenyan standards) Western women (well past their middle age) are holidaying in Kenya with their big, beautiful, black and young (18 to 24) boyfriends. They party, drink, have romantic dinners, go sight-seeing and of course sleep together. The boy gets new clothes, shoes, free beer, food and maybe also the ice cream, both to be eaten and used during the sex plays in the tropical heat of Kenya.

 

 

 

 

Here is yet another modern romance story from The Times of London (Click to read, ”I pay a man for regular sex”). I say romance because, interestingly, women make really compassionate and romantic sex buyers unlike most men who treat prostitutes just like they treat their girlfriends and wives. The lady in the article writes, ”Once, sometimes twice, a month I meet up with Justin, a 36-year-old divorcé. We go out for a meal and maybe to a club before spending the night in a hotel. I am a divorced mum and work part time to spend as much time as I can with my four children. Justin also has four children. But what differentiates our dates from the norm is that I pay for Justin’s company, including having sex with him… He costs £200 for an hour, £270 for three hours and £600 for overnight – and every penny is well spent.”

 

 

She also adds that, ”This way I’m very satisfied sexually, which makes me a much calmer and happier person, and I do like the secrecy element of this arrangement.”

 

 

 

 

So, what are your views on the first and the second modern romance story? To the (one in second story) woman’s credit, she is not buying sex (and romance) while she is cheating on someone, the kind of thing men often do when they buy sex, on the side. And besides, there is a very strong moral argument in favor of these women that they have the right to do their own thing as long as they are not hurting or corrupting the rest of the world. Also, they have the right to be happy–”…a much calmer and happier person.” Besides, financially speaking, this also sounds like a fair trade between two parties. It is also interesting that old romance or new romance, money always seems to be at the center of love, sex and romance etc.

Thoughts on interracial dating, couples, marriage and race relations October 25, 2007

Well, I thought I would bring this subject up some time. But I just find it too boring to talk about. I mean things like one’s race, ethnicity and sexual orientation are talked about because how the whole society is designed with its combined perceptions, prejudices, fears etc. I give you one interesting insight into the human psyche as far as the race goes. I read this new story a while back where they reported about the confidential data from a Western dating website. One of the real striking thing was when people were asked which ”races” they would like to date. Most men and women selected, ”It does not matter.” Naturally, no one would like to be thought of as racist or uneducated etc. But when these very men and women replied to emails they almost always replied to the White ones, some 93% of the time. Interesting huh?

 

 

But why am I talking about it? First of all, I am academically interested in race relations and on the bigger scale, clash of civilizations. I am interested in race relations in countries where different races or ethnicities live: Malaysia (Chinese, Malay, Indians), Singapore, South Africa, New Zealand, Switzerland, Russia, Latin and Central America and most Western countries, ESPECIALLY USA. Second, I am bringing it up because there is a Canadian website called Vancouver forum and someone started a thread on interracial dating (Asian men and White women to be specific), especially on University of British Columbia Campus in Vancouver. CLICK HERE for The link to that forum

 

 

Here I am copy pasting some of the messages I posted on that thread. All that discussion piqued my brain into expressing opinions. BUT NOTE: As you are aware of my writing style, I am saying many of the things tongue in cheek and satirically. So, read it with a pinch of salt. But I really tried to express my thoughts on the subject Objectively.

 

 

1.) I donno what the fuss is all about. Some messages back ”Tina” pointed out rightly that this is a stupid conversation because ALL WOMEN ARE HOT in their own different ways. ”Tina” is right.

 

But there is only one thing that ”tina” forgot to mention and I would like to add something guys (as in boys). As long you have a regular job and money, you will attract women of all races, regardless of your own race. That’s the universal rule since the beginning of mankind (and thanks to man’s rib, womankind). I’m sure Adam got Eve because he had a rich Daddy to begin with…the Universal rule does apply, All through human history. Men of power and money get women. I know it sounds vulgar but it’s true. You can even read Shakespeare’s Othelo and how Othelo gets Desdemona (though he eventually loses her by killing her)

 

Talking of race, voot you think about your Canadian hero Mark Steyn’s new book ”America Alone- The End of the world as we know it”? Are you Canadians spooked by the bearded folks of Arabia lurking all over Canada as Mark Steyn points out? Get to my blog post then for the book’s review and comment: HERE]

 

2.) I do agree with you Burning Ember, though you have a blunt way of putting it. I am no big fan of interracial for its own sake. I don’t think it’s cool or unique. It just happens that’s all. And in your own words, the society is all against it. They hate it. Same goes with inter-religious marriages. Jew-Christian/ Christian-Muslim…. Jew-Muslim! All tough stuff. But I personally find it SAD. It means society makes rules for us and we don’t have any say in our own life. And all this in the modern age.

 

I bet in old times, really old times, different races in many places intermarried and mingled without all that fuss (That’s why we share 99.9% of our genes). I personally would find it tough if I marry a person of different race, I’m brown and marrying both a White or Black is more or less a taboo, sort of social crime. But then if I do fall in love with a White or Black woman, I personally would go ahead and say to the rest of the world (that would Object or try to stop me) that they can sit in their chair and finger their anus… or maybe I will be more polite and quote Bible ,”For this reason they shall leave their mother and father and become one flesh.” lol **By the way, I’m just giving an example**

 

 

Hmmm.. what else. To sum it up, I love good and interesting people of all races and I hate bad and boring people of all races, cultures, ethinicities, species or whatever else we have. )

 

 

3.) I believe the reasons are mostly cultural, religious, economic, lingual (and many other factors like different families, friends, cuisine!!…and so on).. That’s why people from two different races get so many hurdles to overcome, if they do like each other or worse yet, fall in love.

 

 

4.) Hi Robert. I agree with your observations, though it did make me wonder a little what the heck you were doing stalking interracial couples all day long?

 

 

But anyway, you’re right, Asian Male/ White Female is something of a rarity. White male/Asian Female happens quite often. Now be surprised, I am in NZ. And I see the same pattern here. But I am a bit surprised by this post because I really didn’t think it was all that a big deal in Canada. But maybe it is because there really are LOTS AND LOTS of Asians in Canada, especially in a city like Vancouver. Hence the fuss.

 

 

Well, coming to basics: there are psychological reasons (i will get to it in the next paragraph) as well as White race being considered the epitome of human beauty etc., thanks to Hollywood, TV, Playboy and what not (For the love of God has anyone seen hot Iranian or Afghani girls? Even many pretty Asian girls are very hot, though they deviate from ”classic features”)

 

 

Now psychological reasons. In Immigrant Western countries Whites are in majority and it’s their home turf, they got demographic advantages and everything else that comes with it. Of course, then, for colored males getting a White Girlfriend is like a trophy girlfriend. Yeah, I know it sounds stupid. But that’s the way it works. I often have talked to many mixed race or colored guys here in NZ– who have mixed race gf– say to me when I ask where their gf comes from, ”…Ohh she really looks white though… She got like light brown hair and green eyes…Ohh you would think she is white…” It sounds so uneducated, depressing, self-hating and vulgar to me.

 

 

Further notes added on Tuesday, 30th October.

 

 

Note 1- Just adding an observation that often the word ”INTERRACIAL” is highly politicized. It’s a word that is used for promoting grudges, hatred, prejudices and what not. This word almost always means a union of a White person (often female) and a colored person of any race (Often male). This stereotype cannot be confirmed more if you happen to come across one of those interracial porn websites. You know what I mean. But I personally think of interracial in its literal sense, i.e. union of two races whichever they maybe, including mixed or biracial individuals. For example, Here in New Zealand I have often seen Asian women (mostly Chinese) going out with men of other colored races.

 

And I must make a special mention of Maori race, the native people of New Zealand who form a sizable minority. Maoris have interbred with almost any race you can imagine. A Maori person may look very European with blonde or light hair, Polynesian, Asiatic or with some quite dark colored and native physical features too. I am sure such intricate interracial patterns maybe true with many other countries as well.

 

 

 

***CLICK HERE**

 

Note 2– Here (CLICK) is a very interesting

link about the origin and evolution of modern human

races.

The Romance of adolescent years. August 12, 2007

Picture: Pretty Megan Follows (in 1985) as the orphan girl Anne Shirley; aka, Anne of Green Gables, Anne with the ”e” and ”Carrots”

Beginning of this weekend was a wonderful disovery of Anne of Green Gables when I decided to watch Anne of Green Gables DVD of the wonderful 1985 movie/TV adaptation of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s book. This movie was made, aptly, in Canada by CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) in conjunction with other national broadcasters, PBS of America and ZDF of Germany.

 

 

 

I had heard a lot about Anne of Green Gables and even seen bits of some of the TV adaptations of the series of Anne books but never really got into it. I never read the book or completely knew the plot or story. I was aware that it was set in idyllic Prince Edward Island and lots of people with romantic disposition swooned over it. But after watching the series I realized how charming it really is. Moreover, as I trained my eyes on the book, I find it is full of beautiful writing, sweeping emotions, and wonderful humor. What else? ROMANCE. Yeah. So, I will try to read at least the first 3 of the Anne books in the near future. Great stuff.

 

 

 

This leads me to conclude I am overwhelmingly attracted to the well written stories of childhood years with all the ADVENTURES, QUIRKS, DISCOVERIES and ROMANCE. Anne of Green Gables resonates with the same strain of charming writing about young folks as portrayed in my favourite books: Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Adventures of Tom Sawyer, To Kill a Mockingbird and to some extent Gone with the Wind. So, I encourage you to dip into some of this stuff and delight in it.

 

 

 

For now, I am posting a collage (Anne/ Gilbert romance) of some of the scenes from Anne of Green Gables’ 1985 TV adaptation which captures the magic of the book.

 

 

Gilbert teases Anne of Green Gables on her first day in school.

Anne ignores and Gilbert persists….

Gilbert calls her ”Carrots” because of her red hair (that she is really ashamed of/she wants ”Raven Black” hair) …Moreover, Gilbert gives her the tug.

Short tempered Anne gets mad.

She breaks a slate over Gilbert’s head.

 

This is at the very end of the movie, LOTS of things have occured and LOTS of water has gone under the bridge. Gilbert comes to Anne across a vast expanse of green grass, riding on a black horse and gives her a good news. He again calls her ”Carrots” and Miss. Anne Shirley is angry no more.

 

 Anne’s god- mother, guardian and best friend Marrila wonders how come she warmed up to Gilbert and Anne replies. Here is a sweet original dialogue from the book:

 

 

 

“I didn’t think you and Gilbert Blythe were such good

 

friends that you’d stand for half an hour at the gate

 

talking to him,” said Marilla with a dry smile.

 

“We haven’t been–we’ve been good enemies. But we

 

have decided that it will be much more sensible to be

 

good friends in the future. Were we really there half an

 

hour? It seemed just a few minutes. But, you see, we have

 

five years’ lost conversations to catch up with, Marilla.”

Thinking Brokeback Mountain March 30, 2007

Picture: Jack and Ennis (from movie, Brokeback Mountain)

So, here is Brokeback Mountain Picture blog that I am putting together with original movie dialogue. Maybe I just want to have a riot. lol. But actually, I just want to do and say something different not because it is better but because it is different. So, I really thought I could piece together some pictures from Brokeback Mountain along with real quotes from the movie and my own additions. I like those pictures of two men together. Odd is beautiful, funny and tragic. Let me try to show you.

Brokeback Mountain

Ummmmm….. after a passionate night of love making in the cozy tent this is what Ennis and Jack have to say to each other, the next morning…….

Ennis Del Mar — You know, I ain’t queer.

Jack Twist– Me neither.

Love……is more powerful than our fears or anything else in the world….. So….Ennis and Jack get lost in the passions, laughters and romance.

Frank Sinatra– ~~~You must remember this….a kiss is just a kiss~~~~

Some serious discussion here on life, religion ……

Jack– My momma, she believes in the Pentecost.

Ennis- What exactly is the Pentecost? I mean, my folks, they was Methodists.

Jack–The Pentecost… I don’t… I don’t know what the pentacost is. I guess it means the world ends and guys like you and me march off to hell.

This is the start of a beautiful friendship……

Ennis–There ain’t no reins on this one.

Jack- Brokeback got us good, don’t it?

Jack–[yelling to his father-law at Thanksgiving dinner] This is MY house, that is MY kid, and YOU are MY guest, and you will sit your arrogant ass down before I knock it into next week!

Heartbreaks ….. heated arguments….. emotions (Warning: Coarse language follows the picture)

Ennis– I’m gonna tell you this one time, Jack fuckin’ Twist, an’ I ain’t foolin’….

Jack– Tell you what, we coulda had a good life together! Fuckin’ real good life! Had us a place of our own. But you didn’t want it, Ennis! So what we got now is Brokeback Mountain!…You have no idea how bad it gets! I’m not you… I can’t make it on a coupla high-altitude fucks once or twice a year! You are too much for me Ennis, you sonofawhoreson bitch! I wish I knew how to quit you.

Ennis– [crying] Well, why don’t you? Why don’t you just let me be? It’s because of you Jack, that I’m like this! I’m nothin’… I’m nowhere… Get the fuck off me! I can’t stand being like this no more, Jack.

Words of Wisdom….

Ennis- Bottom line is… we’re around each other an’… this thing, it grabs hold of us again… at the wrong place… at the wrong time… and we’re dead.

You can’t be JUST FRIENDS…. (This is in response to a random question a female friend posed recently: Can two people, especially single, male and female, be just friends? Can they keep sex away from their friendship? My answer was NO. When two people are single they both have that sexual/ emotional vacuum that sooner or later will tempt both of them to cross boundaries of pure friendship. Above quote by Ennis has similar logic, since here two gay men are sexually attracted to each other.)