Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I was baking in my kitchen. Cupcakes? Cheesecake? I can't recall exactly. The batter was off-white. It could have been either or. I was wearing my black and white Parisian inspired apron I ordered online from Anthropologie. I have actually never worn it before.
It was daytime, but it was dark inside. Overcast indoors.
I set the oven to preheat to 350 degrees, and continued with my batter. It got really hot. I could feel the heat. I looked at the oven and noticed the temperature automatically increase. Significantly.
I began to scream for help. My sister was home? Yes, I think it was her. She was sprawled on a foot stool cushion in the living room breaking up a sweat. She was sluggishly resting in a state of inertia. That is so unlike her. Was it my sister?
"The oven is going to explode!!!!" I exclaimed frantically calling her up for help.
"So, turn it off" she said in the most nonchalant lackadaisical manner I've ever seen...not just from her, but from anyone.
"I CAN'T!!!!!!!! THERE'S NO POWER BUTTON ANYMORE!!! AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO CONTROL THE TEMPERATURE, IT WON'T LISTEN TO ME!!!!!"
(I don't normally talk to my appliances, and I didn't in this case...but it came out that way in our dialogue)
She refused to get up or help me, I was dripping sweat, and so was she. She laid there as if she was in a hammock on the Northshore of Hawaii, and reveled in her sweat.
"You're over reacting, it's not a big deal, the oven can't explode." Still refusing to even move an inch, I began screaming some more.
I shrieked for my older brother Nayeem, hoping he would know what to do. Running back and forth to the oven, trying to turn it off. I kept getting burned.
"THE TEMPERATURE IS 1000 DEGREES!!!! THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!!! IT KEEEPS CLIMBING!!!"
My brother appeared out of thin air, clad in his plaid Holister shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I'm surprised he didn't have dumbbells in his hands.
"What's up, bro?" He said in a calm and collected manner with an invisible smile. (That's so him) (On a side note - he calls me "bro" in real life - if I'm lucky he'll gender specify it and call me girl bro)
"UMMMMMMMMMMM DO YOU NOT FEEEL HOW INSANELY HOT IT IS!!?! THE OVEN IS GOING TO EXPLODE, 1000 DEGREESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"You're crazy, bro. It can't be 1000 degrees. "
He reaches over to the oven, and notices there are no controls to switch anything. He opens the oven and almost gets burned. An immense amount of heat blows out of the oven, and then he shuts the door quickly. The oven is untouchable without wearing 2 oven mits, and even then, you can still feel the heat.
"Is it as hot as the sun!?!!" I shrieked again.
"Dude, bro what the hell did you do?"
"We're going to explode!"
My eyes were watering, not just because I was terrified, but because of the immense amount of heat that radiated from the oven.
I turned toward the oven, and noticed a new button panel.
Up and down arrows under "Photons"
Up and down arrows under "Volume"
WTF. WHY ARE THOSE MY OPTIONS ON AN OVEN?
I started reducing the amount of "photons" on the oven with 2 oven mits and the temperature finally dropped.
I don't think I woke up.
But I don't know why I remember this so vividly.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
The morning comes and brings the chill into the dawn.
The morning comes and the unsettling truth still lingers on.
The morning comes and the past is still the same.
The morning comes and the morning goes, with no change.
The season's change, but the feelings remain.
Like a ghost that haunts.
Like a record on continuous play.
This love just taunts.
And it hurts more each day.
The pain from the years gone by cannot compete with the unspoken love that was felt.
The pain and the hardships made the good times stronger and made the heart melt.
The morning comes and transitions into the day.
The morning comes and brings no words to say.
The morning comes and doesn't erase the tears.
The morning comes and the morning goes, and I still don't have you here.
Original Photography by Adnan Mahmud