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>Valentine’s Day: Romantic or Commercial?

14 Feb

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Today is a bad day to be single. All around us we see the delivery of flowers, valentine cards and sweets. Everything is covered in hearts and tints of red and pink lest we forget what time of year it is. But is any of it real? In a world when we no longer have time for intimacy and sleep with our Blackberry, has all our romance been stuffed into one day? Negligent husbands come out of the woodwork to buy their wives’ affection with a box of chocolates. I bet their mistress gets diamonds.

True romance is different. It doesn’t wait till February 14th rolls around each year. It’s always lurking in a corner somewhere – ready to strike when you least expect it. A couple that is truly devoted to each other doesn’t need mass hysteria to convince them to treat each other nicely for one day. Valentine’s Day is not about love. It’s all about cashing in on gullible minds and in the current economical hardships, the shops need the holiday desperately. Valentine’s Day has turned into a bottom line. It’s become a business and it’s a billion dollar industry.

If I were in charge, I’d cancell the whole damn thing. No, I don’t say that because I’m single. I say that because the holiday is a cop out. Every time a relationship is in a bad place, Valentine’s Day can temporarily make them forget their struggles. He buys her a gift and she decides to give him another chance. Only men dump their loved ones today. No woman on Earth enjoys being single on Valentine’s Day. It would mess up their plans to gloat and make their girlfriends jealous with romantic anecdotes.

But the sad truth is, tomorrow it will all fall apart. That’s what happens when your relationship is a charade. It can’t last. So why waste your time, energy and money on it? I dub today Liberty Day. All of us stuck in a bad marriage or destructive relationship should choose today to turn our life around. Take control of your life because sometimes, being single is a whole lot better than being married. What’s romantic about being a fake, anyway?

What do you think of Valentine’s Day? Let me know in the comment box.

>Poetry – Reluctant Princess

31 Dec

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And with a solemn sigh I said: “No.”

When you asked me: “Shall we wed?”
No ring on my finger or on thine
No stranger in this bed of mine

I shall not borne thee sons or daughters
Groomed like bunnies that one slaughters
A porcelain doll I refuse to be
For a man’s fleeting idolatry

To lead me down the aisle in white

And corrupt me come the wedding night
I shine and shall be seen by all
With suitors worthy, fine and tall

That awaits those who woo and chase
Only the most eligible face
I prithee, Father, help me flee
Make me princess of a nunnery


>Regency Scene – A Bachelor Visits

30 Dec

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Harley Manor was all aflutter that morning – the maids whispered of intrigue and bachelors. As usual, they were right. There was quite an uproar in the Hamilton residence – the eligible Mr. Sharpe had unexpectedly come to call and Audrey sat in the drawing room immaculately groomed and with all the awkwardness in conversation her pestering relations invariably inflicted through their incessant encouragements.

Although Miss Hamilton was of good family, education and sense, her mother had never regarded her notions concerning her marital state as of any consequence. Her disinclination to marry had been discarded as a folly of youth but as the years passed and she reached the age of two and twenty, she gained a reputation as a bit of a spinster.

But Audrey simply enjoyed the peace and quiet. She was a spinster without the characteristic lack of charm and means. Quite the contrary, when in her element and left to her own devices, Audrey could be described as lively, pleasant and sarcastic, though agreeably so. But with her mother looming over her petite figure, her personality shrinked in response and she grew taciturn, reserved – closed.

Mr. Sharpe, fashionably dressed and in possession of a fine pair of sideburns and brooding good looks, was received cordially, even graciously by the lady of the house. But as for the heiress of the family, she cast him simply indifferent looks and longingly glanced outside, filling his imagination with visions of Miss Hamilton engaged in all sorts of active employment such as horseback riding and archery. He sensed that her mother’s presence affected her disposition and became only curious to learn more about his unwilling hostess.

“You live very comfortably. I daresay you spend your time tolerable well here,” he said in an attempt to gain access to the inner workings of her mind. When the daughter gently sighed at the poor excuse of conversation, the mother took over.

“Oh, yes! It is very good of you to call and you are most welcome here. I shall certainly add you to the guest list of our little ball,” Mrs. Hamilton remarked nonchalantly to steer the conversation toward a more intimate setting for their acquaintance.

“A ball? How delightful. And when will it take place? I have heard little about it,” James Sharpe observed, having in truth heard nothing at all. Audrey roused herself from her thoughts to amuse herself by acting the part of the huntress.

“It is a great secret and you are the first to hear of it. You will come, won’t you?” she batted her eyelashes and moved her fan to and fro to assume a more delicate manner befitting her new part. Josephine nearly squeaked with delight but covered up her pleasure by smiling generously at her tapestries.James shared her love for the theatre and quickly recognised the game she had entered and promptly followed suit.

“Napoleon himself couldn’t stop me.”

Audrey could barely contain her coquettish expression and smiled.
“Well, then I suppose you are the first confirmed guest. How marvelous. We must instantly look to the seating arrangements to accommodate Mr. Sharpe,” she informed her daughter.

“You may seat him by me. There is nothing so stimulating as dinner table conversation. We shall bond over such subject matters as who wears the best pair of breeches and who tripped over his feet on the dance floor,” she airily suggested, having only in mind her intention to avoid Mr. Beckham. Horrid man. Josephine, quite oblivious to her ill-founded dislike, deduced from the remark that her daughter had taken a fancy to a man at last. And an eligible bachelor, even! How splendid!

To Mr. Sharpe this merely meant he had now entered a more friendly sphere in Miss Hamilton’s acquaintance and as he had no mercenary interest in the lady, he sought only to widen his social circle in seeking out her company – which was said to be entertaining and prone to diverting remarks.
“I shall look forward to such a comparative study,” he assented, much to everyone’s satisfaction.