Nazreen Sansoni

Fireworks was continuously being lit by some pyromaniacs.
Catherine Wheels, Rockets, Golden Showers, Roman Candles, Dynamite;
The skies glowing–all looked beautiful–primed for a celebration.

I chewed on a piece of beef curry waiting for the world to end
keeping an eye on the tables laden with food.
There was an array of curries, sambals, rice, short eats, —

my favourite—beef pan rolls with mayonnaise.
Roast Chicken, Roast Lamb, delicious grilled veggies and
organic salads to live for …

Sydney’s firework had come and gone—
the party was jamming and the
music sounded like a cross between the Allman Brothers and Prince.

the piece of beef curry still in my mouth,
I swallowed. And
you know what? It stuck–

In my larynx or trachea– I could not breathe.
Not a wisp of air escaped into my lungs.
For a second I panicked, I started to choke.

The partiers turned to look at me with interest
The piece of beef was stuck tight in my throat
Do something you fools?

Can’t you see that I am choking?
They kept staring at me and
looked to me like open mouthed Gorupa’s.

That’s It, I thought. There was no way
I was going to die on a piece of beef stuck in my windpipe.
I turned my left hand into a fist

fixed it squarely on my solar plexus between my ribs,
and with my right hand pushed the fist into my body
whilst blowing out a big huge sound that sounded like WHA!

The piece of beef shot out of my mouth and
flew like a rocket landing in a bush some 30 ft. away.
“FAR OUT”! said Tilak looking at me with admiration.

My throat was too sore to reply.
“So much better than waiting for the end of the world”
Y2K, my foot.

We decided to go to The World’s End Club.
Happy New Millennium.