Wrecked

Today will go down in my history as the most nerve-wrecking-in-a-single-moment day of my life. For ever. Today I had my very first car-crash since I got my driver's license four-plus years ago. After four years of peaceful, somewhat safe driving, (dotted here and there with minor scratches and near-collisions) I've finally earned my rites of passage, stepped over the threshold into drivers' adulthood. Right now, hours after the unfortunate event, I'm willing to swear that this singular accident is enough to keep me sober on the road for the rest of my life.

Looking back, I can see a dozen ways how this accident could've been avoided. I could've left home a bit sooner, or a bit later. I could've waited for the car to pass and make a left like I usually do, instead of being impatient and making a right to rush things (unreasonably, now that I think about it). The first few seconds after my car effectively grazed the passing Camry, the only thought that came to my mind was, "Oh GOD, is this real? This MUST be a dream. This can't be real. Is this really happening? Oh GOD, it is! IT IS! Oh GOD. OH GOD," I could've gone on forever (I guess this is what they call 'eternity in a single moment') The blood rushed up to my face and I could actually feel it expand, sideways. My hands were seriously SHAKING.

(I know all this sounds terribly cliched but, trust me, this is what actually happened!)

While I waited the dreadfully long five minutes before my dad came to the rescue, the only thought crossing my mind was that I had committed some serious, sinful offence and I was being punished for it. The truth of it I shall never find out and will last to serve as a reminder for me for at least the next five years.

e+nani

Celebrating myself - the uncontented one

[Photo courtesy of Esyaque]

If only I can find a way
to love myself for all that I am
despite the faults
or perhaps, for the faults
I would be a contented person.

If only I can find a way
to paint a picture
free of influences
that satisfies no one but myself
I would be a contented person.

If only I can find a way
to pen down my thoughts
and let others read it and be judged
and not have a care for their verdicts
I would be a contented person.

If only I can find a way
to contend myself
with all that I am,
all that I can do,
to paint and to pen,
and be not judgmental upon myself,
I would be a contented person.

A tribute to Miss Anne

"We need time to dream,
time to remember,
time to reach the infinite.
Time to be."

~Gladys Taber

I couldn't imagine a better quote to remember Miss Anne Shirley by.

From Green Gables to Avonlea

Dear Miss Anne (spelled with an ‘e’) Shirley,

It is wonderful to make your acquaintance once again. It has been a dreadfully long while since I last saw the likes of you in Green Gables. I see that you have come to sprinkle your touch on the whole of Avonlea this time! I have missed your old friends, your bosom friends Diana Barry, Jane Andrews and Gilbert Blythe. Also your little adventures down the Birch Path, past the Fairies’ Pond, through The Haunted Woods, up Lovers’ Lane and finally home at Green Gables, where Marilla, sweet, old Marilla Cuthbert, waits for you, ready for another story of the day’s happenings.
I am quite tickled to see that you are still enraged at any mention of your fiery red hair. Pardon me, that’s auburn now. I am sure that it is now the handsomest shade of auburn that you have always hoped it would be. By the way, have those dimples in your elbows turned up?

I notice an increasing mention of Gilbert’s name in your many conversations. I smell romance brewing between the two of you. It may be late in coming, but it’s arrival is just as sure as any of your misgivings for calamity. Oh yes, yes of course, the two of you are the bosomest of friends!
I have so far enjoyed the recount of your first day as Avonlea’s school teacher. Worry not, dear Miss Anne, the children will, in time, come to adore you once they see how dedicated you are to their education and well-being. And if that Jonathan Pye boy never comes to like you, don’t fret too much, for the Pyes have not the slightest liking for anyone else but themselves!

I am thoroughly impressed with your vision of the A.V.I.S. I think it is a splendid idea and wish you all the luck. Avonlea is a wonderful place, but it can use some improvements here and there. Old Mrs. Rachel Lynn will come to support your intentions, Anne, and if she doesn’t, you shouldn’t have to worry of her going against you, for the old lady is more fond of you than she lets on!

I’m afraid I must end my correspondence here, for there are urgent matters at hand. I anxiously turn the pages for your next foray into adventure (or mishap!) in quiet little Avonlea.

Till then, I remain your most devoted friend and truest fan.

Take Me Nowhere

"What's it for?"

This state of being jobless and vocation-less is driving my motivation down. I feel I have no direction. Nothing is for certain. And that covers all issues - occupation, education, friends, good friends, myself.....
For a person who's always been driven to succeed, to achieve something, this state of limbo is wearing me down....
Will I be able to bring myself back up again when it matters? Time will tell....
In the meantime, allow me to return to my slumber as the world, with everything and everyone else in it, move on without my presence.....
I am spam.
I am void.
I will not be missed.

Qiamat

Chaos. I was running around like everyone else. Neighbours next door came up with the idea of making crucifix with anything they can get their hands on. We're Muslims. Would 'Allah' on a piece of board suffice? I grab my denims from the clothes hanger at the door, chose a scarf,and rushed to get dressed. Does it matter if my clothes match?
Ya'jud and Ma'jud were coming.
Omar and Abah came back with the news. The eleventh hour is up. They would be here any minute. Omar keep going on about how the insides of our car was scratched through, scratched from inside. My blood runs cold.I try to tell Omar that it's too late for a shower. Just get dressed and be ready. I grab a butter knife and a fork and shove it into my pockets, muttering praises to Allah, hoping, praying for protection. I was shaking with fear.
I have no idea what we were up against. None of us are, not even Mama. This is a part of the chain of events leading up to jugdment day, I know that. Are we going to live through it? Should we fight this coming evil with force or diplomacy? Physical strength or religious submission?
I look out the window to catch the shadow sweeping the entire earth. A man standing alone looks at his feet, confused.
They are here. Run.
Mama stands behind the door instead of going to hide in the room with me. She bravely tells me that she will face whatever is coming head-on. We both know it, neither of us said it. She was going to die and she's using herself as a shield for the rest of us. Good bye, Mama.
Mama, of all things, laughs at me. She tells me there's nothing to be afraid of, we don't even exactly know what we're up against. Might not even be as bad as it seems. From the way I'm shaking, I might as well be dead already. The house grows dark.I wanted so much to believe her. I look in the mirror and prayed hard that any minute, I'd wake up from this nightmare. But it's like praying for rain when you know, most definitely, there's no chance of rain whatsoever and you'll just have to weather the scorching sun no matter what.
This is real. It is no dream.
I watch the corridor for signs of their approach. They are here.
And I wake up, predictably, to the setting sun....
Alhamdulillah....