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Wednesday, March 18, 2015

The Death of King Durio in Kudzu’s Sweet Embrace



The Death of King Durio in Kudzu’s Sweet Embrace
[Originally conceptualized as, “Durian Smothered in Vines’ Sweet Embrace,” I thought of toning down the title so as not to leave my friends famished out of anticipation. Warning: the author is neither a viticulturist nor is she a horticulturist. Perhaps, just a Muslim satirist with a literary twist of a “halal” romanticist.]

        In the Kingdom of Plantae, there lived a King named Durio who was most hated as well as dearly loved by thirty or they claimed 13 of his durian human kind.
 
        Plantae was known for its beautiful Dorianne flowers, so irresistibly beautiful that batmen were common tourists who braved its exotic coast and jungle.
        However, King Durio valiantly protected these prized flowers from bats of prey. Flowers shuddered in their pristine petals when the king warned them of nocturnal strangers that were wont to eat their pollen in order to pollinate them. For this gallant sense of chivalry, King Durio was truly loved by the sweet flowers but understandably detested by the sassy batmen.
        Far and wide, King Durio’s people were known. Renowned of exemplar cultivars, the desirable people of Plantae multiplied bringing about it certain prickly types: Clonus, Layeris, Marcotis, and Graftus.
        Such populous diversity became the great migraine straining the thorny crown of King Durio.
        Spiky clonus tribes multiplied either naturally or digitally and of course asexually bringing with it a population of odious bacteria and insects.
        The people of bristly Layeris swelled while still attached to their parents as greenhorns; they begin to root due to external factors but later find filial detachment as an independent Layeri.
        Thorny marcotis sprouted from wounded and amputated combat zones where they recuperated cocooned in eezies and teeiests. Their recovery depended largely on their vigorous ancestry and parentage. Green elixir was used to embalm their wounds and so old folktales were retold. Once rooted they eventually separate from their proud parents.
        But the barbed Graftus folks gave King Durio the most stinging, tingling of a headache! Their ilk grew and spread inosculated like how trunks and branches of two trees grow together. Such intimacy smothered the consciousness of King Durio thereby affecting his vision as much as his respiration. Yet, glued and inseparable as they were, Graftus were common victims of being commodified and traded because of their innate commercial appeal.
        Resplendently dressed in his stoical royal robe spun in seven spectrum of colors, King Durio brandished his sword and scepter. Awed, his subjects in subdued obeisance, yield to the vision of spectre that King Durio projected.
        Restlessness ensued, when geysers and gargoyles abound in the palace yet his ogling subjects suffered from thirst; when various incandescence and LED type lights flooded the palace yet his blinded subjects suffered from dwindling fireflies’ lights not that they needed ambient and accent lights- task lighting would have sufficed.
        Dithery yet agitated, King Durio’s subjects were hyperventilating and were enduring photosynthetic stress. It was so extreme that the stressful atmosphere exuded redolence far from ambrosial because it reeked with obnoxious stench! Dagger looks were pointed at the malodorous point of origin- King Durio.
        Eight decades was too much of an Age of Nadir even after a bout of more than four centuries Age of Renaissance. Dark Age in the Kingdom of Plantae reeked with the volatile compounds of esters, ketones, and other strangely sulfuric compounds. Who was or were responsible for these volatile compounds remained a secret like the proverbial elephant in the room.
        At this juncture of glory turned into grey, appear into the scene some endangered animals and an exquisite morning glory. The more the kingdom and King Durio reeked in corrosive redolence, endangered animals were lured into its territory-greedy and hungry ones such as squirrels, mouse deer, hogs, orangutan, elephants and even carnivorous tigers. They watched like vultures, (these death stalkers are protesting much at me), hungrily but patiently waiting for the kill. Others ingeniously managed to blend into the crowd in functional camouflage while others forged alliances with King Durio as his dummy council watched tolerantly.
        The wise elephant named Dumbo, oh yes sure he could fly, pacified the pack of tigers and his own clan: “Let us watch. Patience. Entertain them with a game with them as our ‘game’.”
        Nonetheless, these grisly animals devoured the young swallowing them in whole albeit swathed in thorny armour but they disposed their bones like seeds under the foot of their parents. Others swallowed bones like seeds along with the flesh but transported them distantly then excreted them anyway in an attitudinal macabre dispersal.
        What transpired was so horrid that the people of King Durio who used to be as immobile as rooted plants suddenly came alive responding to the divine touch of congealed drops of sunbeams drenched in moonbeams yet amazingly remaining dry. Yes, his durian human kind responds to touch just like plants who we human beings assumed to be incapable of being moved and touched by the hand.
        From the soil of Plantae, in every crack, nook, crevice and cranny, crept and crawled Kudzu like clingy tendrils of undulating vine. Unstoppable and unnoticed, Kudzu crept and crawled covering the breadth and expanse of Kingdom Plantae; until Kudzu slithered into the palace of King Durio, rendering his sentries useless, ruining his throne and buckling his power lines. Except for the green brilliance of Kudzu, the whole palace was plunged in total darkness.

        Armored in sheer stoicism, King Durio called out ever so smugly: “Who dares enter my dominion unannounced?”
        But Kudzu replied calmly: “King Durio, it is not relevant to question my viticulture.”
        Her voice was like light in brilliance and King Durio was blinded by her sight. Her nonviolent extremities crawled all around King Durio, enveloping him in an embrace of harmless green tendrils from the tip of his royal shoes to his royal limbs and torso, up to his neck as her spindly tingly vinelike fingers slowly and agonizingly covered his entire face and head.
        King Durio’s eyes almost popped out as he stared in recognition at her luminous countenance.
        “It is you Kudzu! I know too well your obsequious crawl,” King Durio managed to squeak in a smothered voice totally devoid of the almond-aphrodisiac pungent fragrance of his species.
        “No, King Durio. I may allow strangers like you to call me the abominable noxious Kudzu as they perceived me to be. But before I neutralize you, let me tell you a secret,” slowly and painfully she hugged his face snugly and whispered, “King Durio, you may be a stinky celebrated and persecuted durian but my name is Morning Glory, I am not and can never be a Kudzu!”
And so my concocted fairytale ends agonizingly without need of King Durio's right index finger for DNA.
(30)
Glossary:
Kudzu- a harmful or lethal clingy vine.

Morning glory flowers -  "attract both hummingbirds and butterflies to your gardens; may die in the winter, but readily re-seed themselves each year; and will rapidly cover your fence the next spring."

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Who Art Thou Rage?

Who Art Thou Rage?
by Warina Sushil A. Jukuy
•31 January 2015•

Life is sacred
Allah puts human dignity
In a higher moral order
At all times
Be it during peace or war.

Be you rich or poor
Citizen or statesman
Subject or king
Tycoon or pauper
Your life is valuable.

Everyone has the right
To mourn and grieve
Their dead and their living too.

Alas! Nihilism knows no God
Thus it desecrates life
Though be it sacred

Life is not pulp fiction
Where everything is pseudo real
Or so I thought

Yet some of us play God
Shamelessly deluded
And snuff out lives at will
Demise reduced to mere wasted
Uniformed are heroes
Civilians are collateral damage

We cry for peace
Only when pissed
We cry for truth
For not what it really is
We cry for justice
But blood can't quench
The thirst.

We accuse each other
Of intolerance
Of barbarism
Of bigotry
Of extremism
Of terrorism.

But are we not
Hypocrites?
Judging the other
As violent extremists
As terrorists

You and I have lost 44
Thank you
We included our 2
Yet with 44 fallen heroes
You wish to annihilate
Our whole race rashly
Lashing out invectives
Stereotyping us all
As lawless elements
Like lowly high value targets

We choose to forget
Move on; but your lamentations
Drive us to recount
Our undocumented dead
Slain by encroachment
By your trivial disdain
Besieged by morbidity
It suddenly dawn upon me

Now I know who are the
Real violent extremists
It's YOU named fury
Anger
Rage!