Tuesday, September 6, 2016

On the Darkside

The feeling of numbness that echoes through each bone of our bodies. A low rumble of a shudder, a cry, a piercing of the heart in a loop of despair.
Questions, hopes, and fears played over and over in the brain. An unbearable longing for a loved one that brings you to your knees.
Musings on loss, of the mundane everyday afterwards. Of the absolute nothingness and horror of sudden goodbyes that are filled with words unsaid.
Hugs ungiven, and memories not quite cherished until you realize they were all.
Silent tears threatening to spill at random moments of the day. 
Trickling down on to an already damp pillow... 

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Tricks & Treat

Trick = One day, we disappear.
People everywhere. Loved ones, family and friends, acquaintances, neighbours, strangers.
Treat = Happiness. Love. Contentment. 
Laughter, community, traditions and simple rituals. Insider jokes, memories. Secrets.
The treat, easily becoming a simple trick. Might as well be a dream, lost in the yesteryears at the cornerstones of our brains.
And life continues the trick or treating of one another.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Scrambled Eggs on Toast

Some butter on a warm slice of toast, mixed with a generous slap of marmite. 
Perfect start to a lazy weekend, more than anyone can ask for. 
Scrambled eggs, on wheat bread. 
Dreams of future tomorrows, baking extravagant goodies, pastries, bread and cake. I can almost smell it. 
A quick mental break from the darkness, behind the thin veil of reality.
At the back of my mind, always, we are reminded that death is lurking. A stark reminder of everything we hold true in this world to be so fragile.
A beautiful lie.
So, I make the most out of my scrambled eggs on toast with marmite, a comfortable familiarity of the every day before me and yesteryears, preparing for the inevitable tomorrows.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Sermon Of The Crows

The soothing cacophony of crows can be a rare insight in to something deep. I'm not sure exactly what that is right this moment. But I know it is.
I find the thought to be soothing.
Crows conjure up memories of garbage cans and left over food. It also reminds me of YouTube videos on the "Secret life of crows." Google it. You'll see.
Crows share food. They call upon each other when they spot anything to eat. They also pass down memory and secrets to their offspring. So, generations of crows can learn from their elders. Knowledge for posterity. Very human like.
Misunderstood creatures of darkness, these peculiar creatures, they have so much character.

Most humans misunderstand, our nature is to fear all things black. Crows. Cats. Darkness. It's a pity, because I am in awe of these wild feathery, shiny beaded creatures that are so adaptable to their environmental conditions. Such clever beings.
Next time, listen to their sermons. Who knows what you'll learn. 
Don't be wary of crows, because they are signs of life.

Thursday, August 11, 2016


At times, it hurts.
As tears pour down your cheek
Stubbornly irritating the eye
scratching the eyeball an angry red

Sometimes, it is a wish
Gently laid on a wrist
Blown away
with whispers of hope

At times, it is beauty.
Loning for shiny black curls
At times, peace and calm
As you pray to the universe

At times, signs of aging.
Turning grey, then silvery
As the years become numbered
And they have been a witness

They are the glue.
Holding the eyes tightly shut
The eternal rest
When they close one last time

A million memories turn to dust
Having softened the tears
Over the years
As they fell

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

As I sit here

My days are blurry, these last few weeks. Maybe they were months. I can't really remember anymore.

I battle with insomnia induced by caffeinated drinks at unholy hours of the day. Once a tea drinker, now a hopeless coffee addict. I think I battle slight fits of depression and anxiety too. Who knows. I push these things aside for my life post-thesis writing.

I play chess and learn arabic obsessively, anything to procrastinate writing a thesis. I have also started thinking in my dreams. My best ideas,  swear, come to me at my waking hours. Between the few feet from getting out of bed to switch the hateful alarm off, to walking to the sink to wash my face.

I have allergies too. Detestable unruly runny nose, constantly sore and red from wiping. I sniffle a lot too.

I am caffeinated right now, too. A mocha. Did I mention it also adds quite a bit of calories to my otherwise non exercise receiving body. My cheeks are fatter, I swear.

I miss my family. I miss my grandmother who is dying of a terminal disease. I miss my friends who I do not shower with enough love or letters. I think of all my friends who I have missed birthdays of, gifts to friends who have newborns. Please forgive me for this brief time I do not exist in the universe.

I finally mustered up the courage to speak to the woman who comes to sit in the same place at the coffee shop two hours before it closes, everyday. Or at least most days I am here. I made eye contact with her, and I asked her if I could get her a coffee. She gracefully declined, and then continued to talk to me. She told me she taught kids. I didn't understand everything she said. But I noticed she wouldn't stop talking. She has a laptop, she has bluetooth headphones and a phone. She charges everything, and then everyday, she falls asleep on the comfy chairs. I yearn to know her story. I wonder why. She has a suitcase and a bag. She owns a broken laptop with a big screen cracked right in the middle. I do not know. I hope she is ok. She understood the title of a paper on my pile of books. She knew and understood the nature of my work. She seemed lonely. Perhaps it was my conversation that was the real coffee.

I have been thinking about her the last few days. It is so strange. You don't know if it is appropriate to offer coffee or not. Is it offensive? Who knows. I hope I didn't hurt her feelings. I hope in some small way I was able to show kindness. I hope she is ok.

I must get back to my thesis writing now. I wonder if this is the end of my higher education. I hope not. I hope it is. I don't know. I hope everything will be ok.

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Skype Goodbyes

You smile at me across the screen
Thousands of miles away
And memories of a lifetime flash before me

Forever grateful for this time,
cherishing these random moments
As our days together are numbered
Cherishing every last new memory of you
Knowing our days are numbered

Hearing your childishly girly giggle
Laughing at my silliness
I chatter away, heart breaking to a million pieces

Knowing you have suffered
Felt excruciating pain,
And I dread the next few months before us
Where modern science stretches to its limits
And comes to a screeching, painful halt

And the natural progression of life takes over

As one mother, the child of the other,
watches her own mother suffer
Yet, to the very end, only a mother protecting her child
from the realities and inconveniences of life

A disease that slowly eats away, from within
The helpless grandchild, a witness from afar..
Hoping we have given you all we can
As you offer your "ayusha" to me for a long life
I offer you my silent gratitude and love

Please, with all my heart,
I pray to the universe
for the peaceful passing
you had always promised yourself.