It hits me unexpectedly. I’m curled in a blanket, head nestled in my pillow. The cool air of the fan is making the loose strands of hair tickle my skin. I’m reading all the duas I can, revising Pathology in my head, trying hard to fall asleep. It’s 4:19am.
My mind springs back to a time I was woken up from sleep. 12:00am. My 17th birthday. The last one at home.
I remember my not very enthusiastic reaction to my parents and sister standing around the cake, singing Happy Birthday.
Oh how I wish I’d have screamed and jumped with excitement instead.
I remember smiling and flipping just a page of the surprise birthday scrapbook my mom and sister had crafted with so much love. They filled it with pictures of every year of my life, of every special event, of my closest people and notes from my friends. I remember not giving mom the tightest hug in the world, the kind that doesn’t let you breathe. I remember my sisters beaming face. I wish I had kissed her chubby 11 year old cheeks. I remember my dad smiling at me. And quietly whispering “I told you not to wake her up. She’s so tired and uninterested.” to mom. I wish I hadn’t made them feel that way. I remember mom’s smile curl slightly downwards, the shine in her eyes dimming, which she instantly corrected. I remember her trying to show that it didn’t matter that I wasn’t excited. I should have been. Of course it mattered.
I thanked you all profusely the next day but I wish I had made you all feel like it was worth it, that very moment. Because it was. I don’t know how many times my fingers have turned the construction paper pages and how many times my eyes have scanned those pictures. I’m not sure if I’ve read those notes 90 times or hundred and one times. I love you people. A thousand times, with a thousand lives. And I miss you guys.
Been ages since I updated this little space…
The year 2016 and a third of 2017 were distressful for me. A small part of the reason was that I had just moved out from home but a larger part was that I was facing problems with the people I started living with.
Each day was a new day of disappointments, sorrow and loneliness. I wasn’t thinking about giving up on life or even leaving college but I was giving up on people. I was giving up on goodness and love.
It was disheartening to drag my feet through the hours of the day, hoping for it to pass faster as the turbulent waters of overthinking and negativity slowly sucked me in. I had always been a sensitive person who minutely read into people’s expressions. I over observed every scowl, every smile, every frown and even caught secret glances. I felt like everything happening was somehow all my fault. Even then I tried to make peace, internally and externally. To smile at those wanting to wipe it off.
I used to cling on to every moment of happiness and string them together like a pretty pearl necklace but the pearls were worthless plastic.
My deepest and only connection was Allah. I’d pour my heart out in prayers and just hope for things to get better. And as every dua blooms in His garden, so did this. Things started changing around me and in no time the people who didn’t like me became closer than before.
Now, I have formed strong connections with most of them and everything is really good Alhumdulillah.
All I have to say is trust Allah and always do right on your part. Insha Allah things will align.
The same place and people I had started to despise, is now a carnival of memories for me.
The same sky with the rain clouds gives birth to rainbows.
Your rainbow will come shining through.
Some days when you’re dwelling in a daydream
sipping your coffee and watching the cream,
a golden hue,
swirl into ephemeral shapes
and glow against the dark brew
does a feeling of emptiness
You feel the presence of a gaping hole in your heart,
threatening to tear you apart.
It didn’t exist until not long ago
and now refuses to let you go
as it transforms into a bottomless pit,
dragging you in.
You feel weak, incapable of filling it up.
You feel it’s impossible to conquer it.
Let me tell you what I’ve learnt.
It doesn’t have to be conqured.
Let it fill up at it’s own pace.
Let your emotions get deposited layer by layer, stronger than before.
It may be slow like the formation of a star or quick like an explosion.
And never forget,
this empty space means there is more room to grow
and that whatever once filled it was meant to be let go.
P.s. Credits for the last two lines- Erin Hanson
Love is different for everyone and to think that it speaks and works the same way for 7 billion people wouldn’t be fair. But here’s what love is for me, as I’ve come to realise.
I’ve come to understand that love isn’t all of a sudden. It is not like tripping over a wire and helplessly tumbling into a deep pit named love. It isn’t seeing someone and going gaga over them. It is not investing countless emotions and one sided attraction and it certainly is not something that happens overnight.
It is more like being slowly and softly walked down a path leading to a place called love. It is floating forward on small waves, and as you float, you feel a slight pinch here, a little electricity there. Then it hits you, a little later, or maybe even later like a crashing wave dousing you. That’s when you realize that this is love.
Love doesn’t have to come barging in through the door, shaking the entire house and making your heart beat ten times faster at an uncomfortable rate. It can tiptoe in softly and cuddle quietly next to you like a cat. And make you feel warmer and more peaceful. Yes, it will still make your heart beat faster, maybe flutter sometimes, but you will feel peace and contentment.
I have tried, very hard, to love and give
without expecting because
if you’re expecting in return
they say it isn’t the same bliss.
I’ve always read that you shouldn’t ruminate
on the good and great
you’ve done, you shouldn’t expect the same love back because
if, if you do so, your
love isn’t so pure.
If you expect anything back then what you’re doing is swapping, it’s business.
But how do you teach this to the soft curves and turns of your heart? How do you train it to not expect warmth from the ones you give all your warmth to? Who you’d do so much for. Do you teach it to value others more than they value you? Is it really fair to do that? Should you give and keep giving till you’re all spent? Isn’t love about caring and being cared for?
Humans survive by giving and receiving.
If you care for someone and go out of your way to make them feel better is it so wrong to want them to show concern on your bad days? Is it selfish to want them to do a little for you? To pamper you when you need it. To sit next to you and just rub your shoulders, to ask if you need some food and paracetamol when it looks like you do. To do what you’d do for them in a heartbeat. Is it too much to ask for? Is it being selfish?
I hope not.
It’s natural to feel upset or annoyed when someone remembers you only during times of need. You feel like you’re being used, like you’re being taken for granted. You feel like a spare wheel or like a useless benchwarmer in the football of your ‘friend’s’ life.
I say, instead, you should feel privileged.
You are the lighthouse shining in their crashing sea of distress. Their candle in the darkness. You are what they come to when they know nothing else will work but you will, always. You are the benchwarmer that turned the game around when no one else could. You are their backup.
Feel proud ❤
Sometimes the people closest to you are the ones pulling you down. They’re the ones restricting you, the ones hindering your growth. What you do and don’t do depends on what they do or don’t do. The unfortunate part is that you still like these people a lot. For some reason. And because you like them you don’t say anything. At all. What you do is bottle up all those feelings and hide them in the deepest parts of your being. You try to hide it so well that you deny their existence to even yourself. But these are slowllyyy eating you up from inside, making you hollow and blowing in little specks of detestation. And at some point in yor life all of this comes bubbling to the surface, trying to escape. But what do you do? You try stuffing them further down and concealing them. And then one day they just explode beyond control. Don’t let it come to that point. Speak up and express yourself. And don’t suppress things within you and expect others to magically understand.
Bye and have a nice day.
I usually don’t suddenly, out of the blue miss someone desperately. It needs to be triggered.
Everything will be normal until I suddenly see something. It may be something they passionately spoke about or a colour they love. It may be a favourite book, food they always craved, a habit, perhaps even a scent and it would completely wash me over. I’ll be engulfed in the flames of their memories.
I’m either drowning under the crashing waves or cracking like parched land.
You are special.
You’re not a cliche. You’re not the April rain or the full moon. You’re the flowers that sprang from a corpse, you’re the stirring inside all the poets that dream of intangiblity. You’re the plant that grew in the cracks of a cemented land. You’re the sunset Van Gogh can’t paint.
Oh cool, I had decided to post frequently on here but looks like I was unable to (like almost everything I decide on tbh). So here is a beautiful post about a place that once existed in a city called Al Ain…
In the searing heat of Al Ain, the pictures and thoughts of Paradise Garden are like running cool water over a fresh burn. All of these pictures were up my previous blog as well so, yes, they’re pretttyyy old. In fact, the place is no longer even there *sob*.
It used to be absolutely breath taking during the spring. Just step into the garden and you have a sea of flowers is lying before you with their earthy and fresh scent wafting through the breeze, engulfing you in it.
Don’t forget, we are in the middle of a desert, looking at all this beauty
A couple of these photographs are not taken by me.
Queen of all seasons, oh lady spring
Where do you go, spreading your wings?
With your magnificent, sprawling veil of flowers
You tip toe quietly, bringing showers.
In the mornings, fresh and fair,
Exuding fragrance in the air.