A Futuristic Romance

Citizen Phaal of Planet E had always liked to think of himself as a great appreciator of female beauty. Which is why, when he met Citizen Ilka from Planet V in the Inter-Planetary Youth Carnival, he did not fail to appreciate her charms. They spoke different languages, but that did not bother Phaal. Conversation was not his immediate concern. He knew plenty of other ways to express his interest in a girl. And Ilka seemed to understand him well enough. When Phaal led the way to a passing tent, she seemed in no way reluctant to have a little fun. Again, when Phaal brought out the protection and the girl brushed it off with a look of puzzlement, he did not complain. She must have been on pills.

The complaint burst forth a few months later, at the doctor’s chamber. Phaal had been feeling perpetually tired, hungry and pukish. He hoped that the doctor would not ask him to cut down on the booze. However, the doctor seemed to give a dry chuckle (which made Phaal feel hopeful), and said, “Congratulations.”

Incomprehension, bewilderment, fury and expletives; consolation, explanations, reassurances and sympathetic nods followed. The patient even shed some not unmanly tears. But a few hours down the line, the polite doctor’s patience was wearing thin. He had explained many times to the protesting man in front of him why both an abortion and a caesarean delivery were not safe options. There was only so much you could put up with from a grown man.

For the nth time, however, Phaal was struck with a new argument. “But how?” he exclaimed shrilly, “How in the name of you-know-what will it happen? It’s not possible, see? That’s why women do it. They are meant to do it. There’s a reason why men don’t do this s***. How will it come out?”

By now, the doctor was too irritated to elaborate. His reply was cold and brief: “A******e.”

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(Image: pixabay)

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The Window

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(No, this and the previous post are not part of a series of architectural poems!)

 

I sat beside the window

Watching the world pass by,

And the world has passed me by.

 

I sat and watched

The wondrous world…

I looked far; I looked high.

 

So much I planned

To join the stream

To join yet stand apart;

 

Such glorious dreams

So many a path

Took shape and filled my heart.

 

The room within

I never would see

It’s there and me in it;

 

It will be here

But the world’s changing

Can’t afford to miss a bit.

 

Such long neglect

My humble room

Such dusty corners now;

 

Warm it may be

But it’s no beauty

I see today why and how.

 

I watched the world

I dreamed the world

I turned my face away;

 

What’s always here

Will always be

One after another day.

 

I had stepped out

I tried to hold

I tried to grasp and catch;

 

In the big busy world

In the land of dreams

For me there’s nary a patch.

 

See, all my friends

And all I loved

Have been so wise and good;

 

They tidied rooms

And packed their bags

The rules they understood.

 

When I caught a glimpse

I felt so thrilled

I thought I saw it all;

 

Not just pride

But love and trust

Can come before a fall.

 

This day, the world

Turns back at me.

Is that pity or scorn?

 

“You just don’t see

Till you bump your head

My dear, when were you born?”

 

What should I say?

Excuse? Sorry?

Should I move or step back?

 

My history seems

Milestones of loss

And even before – a lack.

 

Excuse me, world

If I retreat

To my neglected room;

 

My absence won’t

Leave any big gap

I believe I rightly presume.

 

This is my room

Let’s look at it

Let’s see it closely now;

 

The dark corners…

Whose voice is that?

Some voice I didn’t allow?

 

Poor old room,

Now here I am

Now here I sit with you;

 

The window’s closed

The world may pass

But we must start anew.

 

Not too late,

It’s not too tough

Let there be struggle or strife;

 

We’ll clean you up

We’ll bring in light

Got the rest of our life.

 

(Image: pixabay)