Closing Pandora's Box

This will be a short post. There's not much I have to say, apart from humbly ask you for your prayers. My dad will be going to hospital tomorrow for an operation in the next few days and if you can please spare a prayer for him.

Remember all those around the world that are suffering, those that have lost loved ones due to war, natural disasters and famines. Remember those that are ill, fighting to stay alive. Remember those that are passing through trials and tribulations. Remember those that are in need of your prayers, wherever they may be. Remember humanity and say a prayer for them all.

I will be going to a wedding this evening, so time to smile. It makes people think you're up to something.

I hope and pray you all have an enjoyable, productive, and lovely week ahead.

Each person is like a jotter, the days of their life penned on the pages within. Some pages are covered in squares, each minute detail, pre-planned and organised is written meticulously in the separate boxes. Others are scribbled onto lined paper. There is some order retained in these days too, but at times when the things don’t go as planned or too well, the flow of the words can be seen to break apart, no longer comfortably hugging the line. There are some pages that are completely blank for the days that cannot be described in coherent sentences, thus abstract words, feelings, pictures or colours do them better justice. Each day our story is recorded. There are some who are able to translate these writings into the words of man. He was never really a writer, but this is his story.

*****

His eyes were bloodshot. Each askew streak of blood represented a tribulation, rarely his, that had kept him awake at night. The redness shrieked STOP, they had seen enough already. Remnants of dark bags sagged under the burdens of what he had witnessed. The French say ‘les yeux sont le miroir de l'âme,’¹ but when people looked into his eyes they saw nothing. There was no light behind them that would illuminate the secrets of his soul. It was like a black hole; you could observe things that went in, but if you stepped too close and looked too hard, you too would be sucked into the nothingness.

His skin was really quite soft and smooth, except on the hands and feet. The soles had been roughened by the treacherous paths of his journey through life and the hands hardened by moving the obstacles that were blocking his way. He tried to take good care of his skin, as well as he possibly could. Deep cleansing face wash followed by a healthy layer of a special brand of moisturiser in the morning usually did the trick.

The hair on his head took care of itself. It wasn’t too long and neither was it too short. Somewhere in between; of a length through which he could pass his fingers but not long enough to blinker his vision. Like grass, it would dance to the slightest of songs played by the wind and settle down appropriately without a fuss when the music stopped. He rarely ever used hairsprays, gels or waxes except on special occasions. But even then sometimes he just didn’t bother with the effort. It was lighter than it had once been and hidden among the dark matte black streaks of white could be seen, unwanted like weeds that had invaded.

People said he looked older than he really was, but what is age? And older compared to what? He put Aloe Vera Vaseline on his parched lips to give them some shine and practiced his smile in front of the mirror for the last time. Then he left.

Yes I know I have a really long eye lashes, and no I don’t curl them.

*****

I don’t talk much about myself. It’s just not something I enjoy doing. There are a select few people who I do talk to about everything but sometimes a flicker in their eyes makes we wonder whether some of them really couldn’t care less. Anyway, that’s not the point. Because of my few word attitude, the General has a notion in his head that when I leave the walls of university, I turn into some gangster pimp with three girlfriends; muffin, AK, and I can’t even remember the last one. So to dispel all these mind wanderings of his I have promised to give him an open, no restrictions imposed interview on Sunday. That’s in two days time. Knowing the General and some of the things that go on inside that head of his, I have a really bad feeling I’m going to regret this. But it was a promise and so it shall happen. I owe two other people interviews too but I think one of them has completely forgotten.

Today the guys celebrated Dum’s birthday which was last month on the 27^th. I didn’t go. I couldn’t go. I’ve been getting ill quite a LOT recently and finally got an appointment, the only appointment, today. It made me really sad.

In other news, I have made an about.me page the idea of which I found on Gian Faye’s blog, Loading Info. Her blog is really cool and focuses on the internet and all things related. There have been many instances when I have read something on her blog about a website or a program and after having done so, made use of it. You can find the link to my about.me page it on the right hand side. I have also made a twitter because my phone has a twitter app. But I don’t really know how to use it so yeah.

That’s all for today folks. Have a lovely weekend.

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Title: Writer – Ellie Goulding
All photographs in this post are from my personal photography
¹Translation in English reads ‘the eyes are windows into the soul’

Exams finished on Wednesday and I don’t think I would have been able to do them without the help of the General, Little Miss Sunshine and Dummer. It was Dummer who made me start revising for the ‘immunity and infection’ module by sending me a word document full of so many words underlined in red. Without Little Miss Sunshine’s emails I very much doubt I would have been able to do much of the ‘Therapeutics: Protein to Patient’ exam. The General was just the General, helping here, there and everywhere. Thank you to all 3 of you and to everyone for your support, well wishes and early morning texts.

Before exams started, apart from revision there was the dissertation to do. It was titled, ‘sphingosine-1-phosphate induced reactive oxygen species production in microglia’ and the final book, 46 pages long, looked rather nice if I may say so myself. It was bound with red leather (knowing me are you surprised I picked that colour?) and I was quite happy with it in the end. I couldn’t stop opening it and flicking through the pages every few minutes.

  

*****

Yesterday I spent most of the day gardening. It was a chance for me to de-stress and get my mind off things. While mowing the grass, taking out weeds from the flower beds and watching the bees and other insects fly and crawl, I was made to think about life and people. I’d like to share some photos I took on my phone and the thoughts that accompanied them.

Life is full of doors; some have behind them countless opportunities to excel and others are opened or closed depending on the decisions we make. Whenever life offers you a door take a peep through because you never know, you may be kings or queens of your very own Narnia on the other side. Be careful you look properly before you walk in though, because it may just be an empty drop into nothingness.

Every gardener knows just how much of a problem weeds can be. They deprive flowers and other plants that you want to grow of nutrients, sunlight and space. If you rip off the shoots above the ground they disappear, yes, but only temporarily. They’ll keep growing back, again and again and again, year after year. It’s the same with problems each one of us faces in our day to day lives. If we shove them under the carpet, away from the view of the world, yes they’ll not be visible, but they’ll always be there. And as long as they’re there, well they will cause problems. To deal effectively with weeds you have to find the roots, yank them out and dispose of them. In the same way, when faced with a problem it’s best to deal with them at the root level (for that is the cause) and not the shoot level (for that is just what the root is exhibited as).

While clearing out the flower beds I noticed bees flying onto the flowers dancing from one to the other. Some would also come to these blue flowers (above), land on them but quickly fly away. It reminded me of people who hide behind a pretty face. When you get to know them properly however, you realise deep down inside they’re nothing but prickly buggers and if you get too close things can get messy.

In our garden we have had a rose arch. The top of the arch broke yesterday and after moving some of the branches around (and desi engineering) I managed to make it stand by itself. It made me realise the importance of support in our lives without which we too would fall. But more importantly it made me realise that once we have been helped on to our feet, we all have the strength to stand on our own without support.

At the base of the rose arch I noticed that many weeds had grown. In the same way as these plants were stealing nutrients and minerals from the rose plant, with little care for the latter, people also do the same. Some people come to you pretending to be friends bringing nice gifts and happiness. But when faced with the choice of you or both of you, they wouldn’t hesitate in leaving you behind.

It is for this reason that roses protect their beauty with thorns. That doesn’t necessarily mean people and other animals will stop touching them or stop causing them harm, but it does make the person think of their own safety before they do so. In the same way a Muslim lady protects her beauty by wearing a veil.

All throughout the day I was desperately trying to take a picture of a busy bee, as they flew around me. By the time my phone’s camera turned on, the bee would already have already buzzed off. Just as I was about to give up and go inside for lunch, another opportunity presented itself. You can see the result of it above.

*****

I wish you all a very happy, relaxing and enjoyable weekend wherever in the world you are.

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Title: Mary Mary quite contrary – Nursery Rhyme
All photographs in this post are from my personal photography