Shine On This Crazy Diamond
It was time. 9 months passed by so quickly for 8-year old Mikhail. He knew the attention he always recieved was undoubtedly coming to a standstill. The moment Mirza was born, it was always Mirza this and Mirza that. Mikhail felt lost in his own home. Wondering about from room to room seeking the attention he thought he deserved. He felt alone. Lost.
Gone are the days when his Father came home and played football with him in the garden, pretending they were in the mightiest of arenas, against the most gallant of opponents. Instead, his father darts up the creaking wooden stairs and starts cuddling what he thought was a useless lifeform that couldnt walk or speak less for the odd cries and short bursts of pointless laughter. Days like these, you can see Mikhail kicking the ball against his new best pal....the house wall.
Year in year out he felt this way. Always rough with his younger brother. Stealing punches whenever no one is looking. It was his way of getting even. Nevertheless somehow he matured quickly. He grow to be independant and responsible at a young age. It brought the man out of this brave young boy. A blessing that was hiding amongst the flowers.
Then at the tender age of 13, the first bombs fell on Singapore. It was disaster everywhere. School ended prematurely. Everyone was running around like heavy drops of rain against the black road. Mikhail is making his way home as fast as his little legs could carry him. What used to be familiar roads now seemed a maze of rubble. Old Uncle Lim has abandoned his ice-cream cart. The ever smiling Aunty Lyn is drowning in her own tears..sitting on the pavement clutching a motionless Bobby, Mikhail's childhood friend. Would his Mummy have done the same for him he thought endlessly.
Tears welled up in the young boy's eyes as he turned after the junction. Half his house stood burning like cheap firewood on a cold night. He braved the flames and entered. A wailing Mirza awaited in the living room begging for his mother to breathe again. Alas his efforts were in vain. Mikhail grabbed his brother and got out into the garden. Again he was lost. Only now ironically he wasn't alone. Where do we go from here?
They sat under the big mango tree. Waiting for their Father to return for them. Nightfall came and Father was late. He never returned after nightfall before. Admist the chaos that was hammering on the country, admist the wailing sounds of the cruel war, somehow brothers fell asleep hugging each other, like playful lion cubs.
The morning greeted them with dust and dew that was made impure by the flames that was already dying. "Daddy come home already?", Mirza quized in between sobs. "Not yet. We go to his work place ok?", Mikhail said trying to sound comforting.
As they trudged down the now defunct driveway, Mikhail turned back for one last look of the house. His Mother's Orchids were the only colours against the burnt picture that he saw. He ran back and plucked one Orchid. "What you take?", Mirza asked. "Mummy", Mikhail whispered as brothers walked on hand in hand.
Amazingly as fate bestowed upon them, they found their father among the horror. There were tears in their Father's eyes as he embraced his princes. But in young Mikhail's eyes shone courage and confidence; and the Sun shined on them, and cast her beams on the three, and gave them her blessing.
