Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Marigolds and post-its

"Shall I string the marigolds and jasmines separately?"Having handled yellowing minds and probing the insides of the darkest folds of the dreams, this question startled her.

"No. String them together." She liked that yellow but it moved her into a state of lost loves and anticipated lusts which stringed together with affection and fondness. Why does religion and world cherry-pick lust and condemn it? It is a strong emotion nevertheless . . .

But why this sudden fondness for yellow, she asked herself.

"But why? The jasmines will not even be visible when you string it along with the marigolds."

"I like the marigolds to be seen and the jasmines to be smelt. Almost like pain and passion. Conceal the pain and show the passion." But isn't pain a passion too?

The yellow. Why did I choose the yellow of the marigold. Was it that song I heard last week. No. It is something else. Why can't I remember that yellow. Yellow . . . yellow . . .
Yes, now I remember. The yellow of the post-its. The post-its he was sticking all over the subway wall. In a frenzied madness he was writing something on them and stuck them all over that white wall. He decorated that blank wall and left. Waiting for him to go, I sauntered to the wall and read each one of them. I felt I knew what was in them. Why did I have to know that? Why so curious and restless. Why do we always connect like this to unknown emotions and unread post-its. Why didn't I let go of the desire to read them?

The first one: I don't deserve your love. I want freedom
The Second one: How can you love me though you know I don't love you as much as you do
The Third one: You are sick. Your love is sick. Leave me. Let me go
The fourth one: After all that I did to you, why are you still there. Go.
The fifth one:  BLANK

The yellow of those post-its on the subway wall. I wonder why he said all those personal things in those post-its in a public place. Why did he choose not to love her. Did he really want freedom or did he yearn for more than that. There was music that was playing aloud in his pocket. It was a haunting tune. Yes, yes, the same one which left me morose on a December night. The date. Yes. It was after Christmas. The 29th night where the night was just giving way to the 30th. Eric Satie's Gnossienne No. 5.

"The flowers are all done. Just as you said. The marigolds and the jasmines together."

Yellow. Yellow. Marigolds and post-its.

Gnossienne No. 5 plays on.


  1. Pain can arouse passion..may be that's what he was displaying!!!

  2. perhaps he just needed a release...someone to say this to, these things he has been carrying...

  3. Hey, the music -Gnossienne No.5 is really something... soothing and calm. Is this a story you made up... or a continuation of a story?

  4. You rock girl!
    You can write about anything and make it so special..

    I love the story... hummmm it so happens with that crazy little thing called 'love'.
    Last night there was a half moon in the sky and guess who I was thinking about... ;)

    Hugs my dear SUSAN!


  5. John:

    Maybe. Pain also causes us to display weird patterns as it impairs all sense.


    Perhaps. He also didn't care about his audience. I wonder how that act would bring him solace.

  6. Karen:

    You should listen to more of Eric Satie. It's lovely and almost haunts your insides. Yeah, most stories are made-up and this is as well. A continuation of my mind, you could say.


    Your kind words make me smile and feel happy. You saw the moon and thought of me. That is an honour, now. How I love the moon and its little tantrums on us.

    A big hug with kisses dear sweetest :)

  7. Susan, how I am enjoying your forays into the world of fiction, now. This one was a pure and simple delight. Something terribly urgent about this man's scribbling little notes on Post-its and leaving them on the walls of a subway... and something terribly compulsive about wanting to read them. And the marigolds and jasmines metaphor is quite striking. The whole piece was like little sprinkles of reality vs. magic, all jumbled together and tossed up like confetti into the air. I loved it completely!


  8. The blank post-its ..... empty, without emotions broken hearted!
    Colors yellow and white stark differences it their shades.
    Enjoyed it very much.

  9. Nevine:

    Your art of commenting is something that I am in awe of. Your words always light me up and want me to get better with posts every time. You are invaluable dear Nevine and thanks for those words of delight and strength :)


    I am glad you liked it. Smiles :)

  10. that was magnificent Susan! It just went so deep. The symbolization in it was very amazing. I loved how beneath the surface you wove philosophical meanings. Great One!

  11. A beautiful delving into the mind of your character, Susan. Your stream of conciousness style is breathtaking. I especially loved the exploration and figurative description of pain and passion. This was a charming and engaging read :)

  12. Maha:

    Sometimes philosophy is at the heart of everything we do. Many times it is a bit hazy. Thanks for your lovely words.


    Pain and passion are always together, isn't it. Thanks for your kind words, Sam. You are a very perceptive reader!

    Joy always :)

  13. Susan....this is a beautifully heart piece. Pain and passion are two bedfellows indeed. Could we ever know the harmony of passion if we never felt the searing sound of pain?

    I love the post-its.....and the blank one? Silence....hurt, resolution, closure... up to interpretation.

    well done. :)

  14. Dana:

    How delighted I am to see you here. I have missed your soulful posts and shall come by when I can.
    Your words make me smile. Thanks dear Dana. The silent post-it has volumes of unspoken tenderness which needs to be shared.

    Joy always :)

  15. oh, dear lady susan! how wonderful this little story! truly wonderful! coming by your place is always such a joy and i miss so much when i'm not able to come as often as i would like - and you - you - you are like watching a beautiful budding flower open and bloom and bloom larger under the love of the sun! magnificent!!! namaste' -

  16. Jenean, how I miss you here. The days are weary and force us to run and run. The meandering is getting tired but I shall strive to still reflect. Thanks for your lovely words. You sprinkle cheer and goodwill here.

    Namaste. Joy always :)

  17. Maybe he needed to say it and that method is what popped into his mind. The fifth one was blank - I think he realized he was being weird and now knew what he wanted to say directly to the person. He left the last post it blank and left to find the object of his passion, so he could speak the words outloud. That does seem a little odd and attention grabbing.

  18. Your keen thoughts and perspectives are appreciated GQ. Been a long time, isn't it. Sometimes when pain and passion collide, the weirdness is oblivious.

    Have a lovely remainder of the week :)

  19. Wow, that is a story worth analyzing in any literature class worth its postmodernist angst. Wish I could take part in that class. :p

  20. You can take a class with it in your department and let me know what the students think :)

  21. I completely and utterly agree with John.
    Thanks so much, Susan, for this thought-provoking post :)
    B xx

  22. You are welcome dear Betty. Life is lovely :)



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