It’s been very hot lately. It’s becoming a little hard to breathe-in the hot dry air, whose rays’ send salty fluids dripping down spines causing sporadic hot flashes which leave parched lips agape. This  heat made me think of something I once said to a man who was pursuing me in the dead of winter. We had been on a date-ish. As he was dropping me off at home he leaned in to kiss me and I backed away saying no. Offended he asked why. What must I do? I mean I’ve done everything a man should do on a date, why can’t you kiss me? As I sat there looking at him – I knew that nothing in me could see that happening and not wanting to offend him I said. You are like the wind, a huge big hurricane which forces me to not only want to keep my clothes on but to hold on to them for my dear life. What I would like is someone who is like the sun, which makes me so hot that I can’t help but take my clothes off, piece by damp piece.  After a long moment of silence he said I’m the most difficult girl he’s ever met and he sped off angrily in his vintage sports car, one of three he has parked in his garage. He told me earlier.


It’s been so hot lately. It’s so hot that I found myself sitting across from my mother licking ice cream off cones trying not to feel conscious of my long tongue.  I was listening to her counselling a friend about companionship: There are three kinds of people in this world she says to him. Those who have no desire for marriage and all that comes with it, and those like us, who do. When are you getting married? Because I want to come to your wedding she concluded. I was very happy not to be the focus of this conversation as I licked my ice-cream like a four year old girl enjoying a rare treat. I feel like having another one my mother said between her impromptu counselling sessions. But maybe I shouldn’t, this is my second one. I wanted to taste and see if there is a difference. I didn’t want the grainy ice-cream which is rough on your tongue. Let’s go to the beach, I said sucking up the last bit of ice-cream from the soaked wafer. Not today she said, it’s too hot.


It’s been so hot lately. The only time I feel cool and dry is when I’m in my room. Indoors. It is so hot it reminds me of something I once said to two friends during a similarly hot day when despite my flimsy yellow dress I found myself in their car wet between my thighs, under my arm pits, my neck and between my breasts, my back and buttocks, my legs  and toes, arms and fingers. I could peel my skin off it was so tender. The heat was so intense I was beginning to feel slightly delirious. A bit light-headed, all I wanted to do was to lie down, naked and prostrate somewhere cool. Then I said something which I had never thought of before until then. I said, it’s so hot it feels like I’m having sex with God, I mean the sun. I am sticky all over. My friends thought it an interesting if not blasphemous idea. One of them said, write a poem about it. I thought no. I’m too scared. I could melt away.


All the wars I’ve been to have taken place in summer. Which reminds me of a story my sister told me recently. It’s true. Of a man who is suspected of burning his mother’s house down a few months ago. The house was paid off and fully furnished. A beautiful home which is now only ashes. On the day it burned his mother got a call informing her that she had won a mysterious prize, lunch at Spur. It was during that time as she sat eating her ribs and chicken that her house burnt down. An elderly woman, she along with her son, the main suspect in the arson case the police have opened, are now renting a house together somewhere.

Nobody knows his motive except the man, if he is indeed the arsonist. He was not at home when it happened and he was quoted saying he doesn’t know what he would have done had he been there when the fire broke out.  This made me think about my childhood and all the times when I asked my parents for something. They often said they did not have money. I did not burn the house down. Despite my frustration. Why would he? maybe its the weather.


“wo-ter, wo-ter, wo-ter, wo-ter” that’s how my 18 month old nephew asks for water and despite what you are busy with, you have give him water because you know he can’t do it himself. Even if he could at that age he’s more likely to make a huge mess, spilling it all over himself and on the floor. Wasting most of it without drinking a single drop. You also know that without water he can’t live. So you have to stop what you are doing and give him the water until he’s able to get it himself, without spilling, wasting or drowning. It’s a human thing to do.


Which got me thinking  that  that’s what we all need. Water.  Not only in  the current heat of summer but in every single season of our lives. In fact it just might be the  one sure way of getting anyone  to open up, get naked,  even kiss you.

Get them wet. Let it rain!

“One day you will take me completely out of myself and I will do what the angels cannot do – Rumi




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