(𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫, 𝐨𝐫, 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞?)

What set Seth as an incredible poet was perhaps his honesty, and his ability to create a mountain from mud. To him, it’s in the barely noticeable things from which we draw strength and meaning. Whenever he got on stage, he would share how he conceived his poems. He occasionally did Rap, not that he was any better at it. He just wanted to stay cool and appear tough amongst his peers.

On this fated day, his performance, a four stanza poem titled 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, couldn’t describe the end to this evening any better. He stumbled upon the idea one afternoon during heavy downpour, which got him craving for stimulant. And since he had Zero tolerance on weed, and had initially declared an official ban on coffee dates, he decided to run with tea.

He did everything right, you know, the easy steps to preparing black tea. Put some water over there, sugar, and what nots of tea. He also laced it with ginger and gently squeezed lime in it. And while waiting he sat by the window, where he consumed the pelt dance of rain on tin roofs, with a notebook, struggling with a poem he would later read on this fated day.

For reasons unknown to him he had recently ended things with his girlfriend, a conversation that was more of a clash than a friendly match. He wanted to pen his confusion, but it couldn’t manifest on paper. This depressed him even more. He had even gone back to his sketch books, where he thought he could find a poem for cover up, but no! He needed something original. His audience deserved it.

He served tea, and as it cooled he jotted phrases and hoped it led him home? Amongst the lines he wrote was one which spoke vehemently to him, “I am a man too, I need space, time and distance to glow.” but like always, he could not make any sense of it yet. He then wisped his tea to swallow the thought, but to his dismay the tea tasted like ginger and lime drowning in an ocean. Semen even tasted better than this. There and then it occurred to him (apparently) that life was all about Salt and Sugar. Sometimes you pick one over the other.

𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, was about choices.

Although one person who amazed me was Cassie the Poet. She was of Indian decent, and in fact the first one I ever saw on close range who had all the standards of a Bollywood Superstar. I am talking about Priyanka Chopra before she went to Hollywood, that kind of Standards. She had a bit of soil in her. Tenacious, while just humble.

Her poem, titled 𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 was inspired by her Crush, a guy who was part of the audience. When she got on Stage, she took some light breaths then took a step towards the mic. Her voice was shrill. “𝘚𝘰,” she begun, “𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵.”

She made a step back, then shut her eyes for a second as if she had apocalypse coming from her lips.

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭,” she continued, “𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯, 𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

As if she was the poem herself, she gave a furtive smile, then proceeded to orate 𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩. It was a beautifully stricken soul-centric poem perfectly knitted and embedded in it was a could-be lover.

Cassie and I were nothing remotely close to friends. We were to each other what People you may know on suggested list of friends are to you. My relationship with her would only go as far as dreaming about her belly button, nothing further. And also the shape of her legs, and the beautiful perfume of her hair. I wanted to go further your honor, to the extremes of maybe…. I am sorry your honor, but my limitations were casted upon by the unpopular belief that Indians do not fall in love for themselves. Cassie and I was an explored idea. Even if we were to explore the idea of us, where would we land? It is often said that love wins, your honor, what did that mean for Cassie and I?

When I approached her later, her Question was, “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮?”

And since everything about me tends to be long, long posts, and such, I suggested we take a long walk. And to what it would later seem to be the longest conversation we ever had, she opened up to me about going back to India for the longest time of her life. The reason for her depart was all in the air, a taboo that I couldn’t possibly question. You and I both know this.

As I petted her goodbye in a long lingering silence, she leaned for a hug, then whispered,“𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴, 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯……”She then walked away backpedaling. We should have kissed sooner.

𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩, wasn’t just a poem, it was a warning to her Crush.

𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙗𝙮 𝙋𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙄𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙣, 𝙈.𝙤.𝘿.

Anyways, 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐛 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐, Maxie Daniel presents you an evening of 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞, where you get to experience enjoy raw poetry for Charity, from 4 pm to 6pm, at the 𝐀𝐧𝐳𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐦𝐚 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬. Check the Poster for more details.

For Reservations and Bookings contact +254739767807