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30/01: Observations in a pub

The witching hours draws near
Your speech starts to slur
You attempt to talk faster
Then your brains can register

It’s funny how
Your voice gets loud
And your discussions
Steers towards fornication


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24/01: Rice

I was frying a couple of fishes I bought from the supermarket a few days back, when the warm fragrance of the freshly cooked rice wafted across my senses and brought me down memory lane.

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Those were the days when I was in primary school. I was staying with my grandaunt's family then. It was a rather big family of 9, excluding me. Every late afternoon, she would go through the routine of rinsing the grains of rice, setting it to cook in the pot, then progress to cook the different dishes. I would tiptoe and attempt to stare through the vapour condensed cover to attempt to understand the transformation of those hard little grains to the bloated rice we eat.



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