Closing Pandora's Box

Oh your heart will hurt. It is heaven, and yet it will give you hell. It is day, and yet it will fill you with night. The same heart that was bursting with life, will now feel dead. It will have bled. Just like the sun bleeds into the sky around it when its time comes. When it has to go. When it has to say that word.

I don’t actually know how to say this, because this is always the most difficult part. It can be said in one word, by far the hardest word to say but I feel that it would not be right to part on just one word. Yes, it’s that word. As you may have noticed, it’s been such a long time since I posted, and after the passing of Ramadan I decided it's time for me to go, to concentrate on other things and I'd like to thank you for sharing your company, your hope, your kind words and love. It has been a pleasure.

But before I go, there are some things I want to share with you. Some of the things that you taught me during my stay here. Things that I will always remember.

Be good. No matter how bad it gets, no matter tough or how difficult, remember you are human, and never let go of your humanity. Your humanity, your ability to love, to care, to dare, to hope, to dream, is absolutely fabulous, so use it for the good of humankind. During your darkest most testing hours, please keep the faith, because sometimes you need a little darkness to see the light. Don’t ever give up okay? Keep going, keep believing and maybe one day your belief will turn into reality. Love, and love even more. Fall in love each day, with that which you see, and that which you hear, and that which you taste, and that which you touch, and it may be that every time you do, your heart is broken and you hurt, but don’t you ever stop. Love yourself, and take care of yourself and be good to yourself, you hear? Because your happiness is yours, and only yours so cherish it and nurture it and protect it, because unless you do, no one else will. But most importantly enjoy it. Give yourself a reason to smile. If your heart was ever broken by a person, don’t be afraid to love again, because there will be someone that will love you; for it is not love that was a mistake, but maybe the other person who broke it. As a wise person once said, “You can tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.” I hope and pray you find your angel. You are amazing, you are beautiful, and don’t let any one ever tell you otherwise. Share your thoughts, your ideas, your hopes and your fears and that way you will find someone who will share the same, who you may be able to help or who may help you. And keep writing, even if you are not happy with it at first, don’t stop because that first page wasn’t so good. Give yourself the best, try and try and try again because you deserve nothing less. Don’t short change yourself in the opportunities you have been blessed with. And have heart, my friend, always. Have hope and faith too. For this journey can be wearisome, and testing, but it can be done. Because in the end, it will be okay. Make it so. But sometimes you’ll feel alone, hold on to your loved ones, those that think of you day and night and those that ask ‘how are you’ and actually mean it. And please don’t hold onto the baggage, because it will weigh you down when you spread your wings to fly. Remember how the butterfly got its wings. Whatever happens, remember one thing, if you forget all else. Remember just who you are for that in itself is extraordinary. You are extraordinary.

If there are any outstanding things that I owe you, promises I have made but not yet been able to fulfil please do let me know. If I have ever in any way, be it through my words, actions, or writing hurt you or made you feel neglected then I sincerely do apologise, and I hope and pray that one day (if not today) you may find it in your heart to forgive me. Let me know if that is ever the case, so that I may apologise and put my heart at rest too. It is my prayer that wherever you are, wherever you go, may you go with hope and courage. For every sorrow, may you be blessed with joy, for every tear may you be showered with thousands of smiles, for every hardship may your faith guide you through, for every lonely moment may you have a caring friend, and for every journey, His angels to guard your way. May you always have a reason to smile.

This post wasn’t really planned, and it is what you may describe as a bit of a mind dump. Excuse any errors etc. But I hope I got my point across. So this is it, a word I rarely use. This is where I say au revoir ma chère.

*****

But let your heart bleed, why do you think it odd? For is that not what it does? As it bleeds with each and every beat, it carries the necessary nutrients and gases and minerals to the rest of your body. It pumps the concoction of life to the tips of your fingers and toes and eyes and nose and as long as it bleeds, you are alive. So rejoice, and be grateful. You. Are. Alive.

It’s bee a very long time since you last wrote. You write very inspirative post,” said the General.

A few days ago, I decided to step outside into the garden and go looking for bugs. I didn’t get very far as the grass was too long; hugging my shins and almost reaching up to my knees in other places. And so, I sat down a few steps away from the kitchen door and watched. I sat there for over an hour. I saw life, I saw order, I saw determination, and I saw hope. Seeing and looking are two different things, but that’s a discussion for a different day. I was looking at weed filled grass but seeing something else. I’d like to share with you two photographs I took on my phone and you can tell me whether after looking you too can see that which I did.

Next to my leg on the right side was a dandelion and on the left some tiny pink flowers, through which were crawling many little insects. I watched them as they moved about on legs thinner than a single strand of my hair, gracefully scuttling about, almost as if playing hide and seek with me and my phone. But luckily (for me) there was one insect, so engrossed in what it was doing, it didn’t care about what I was doing, and so I took a picture of it.

It is normal for us to be so dazzled by surrounding beauty like of the flower, that we do not even notice the real beauty; the beauty of the effort put in by the miniscule insect to conquer the flower and reach its destination. In the same way in our lives it is those things, those people, that we take for granted who become like the insect in the picture above (do you see it?), that get forgotten in the presence of something seemingly more beautiful regardless of how temporary it is. Yet they are always there, trying and trying again, not giving up on what they believe, not giving up on you because that’s who they are and what they do. (Thank you, my dear insects friends).

They say, blow the dandelion away, make a wish and it’ll come true. And they wish for you to do this and that, so you give and give from the kind depths of your mortal heart, till there seems to be nothing more to give. You are left hanging and it takes so much strength. Hang in there my dear, have faith, grit your teeth together and remember the insect, unfazed by anything around it. The thing about being strong is that no-one asks how you are, or how you feel. So let me ask you now, ‘how are you today?’

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Photograph of insect climbing flower taken from personal photography available here.
Photograph of blown away dandelion taken from person photography available here.

The difficulties you meet will resolve themselves as you advance. Proceed, and light will dawn, and shine with increasing clearness on your path.

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Photograph of path taken from personal photography available here.

Last year, I was asked by a friend to write on the topic of love for the King’s College Maestro Magazine and so I agreed. Below is my short story that was published.

*****

I had been watching as she came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel that hung from her bosom and curled around her thighs. She walked briskly to her room, her moist, naked feet leaving prints on the wooden floor. She was slightly behind schedule but I knew she wouldn't be late. She never was. It wasn't often we got to do this, with the pressure of second year university and work keeping us occupied. But despite that we made sure to spend some time together, at least once a month. Today was the 14th of February. It was special because it was her birthday. And tonight was going to be perfect.
When she was born her mother had held her in her arms and through her teary eyes exclaimed, “I will give this girl of mine all the love in the world.” It was a shame really, for it left everyone else with none to give. I continued to watch as she gently towel dried her red hair. Using a hair dryer was not an option. Her skin had always been sensitive and during her early years at school she had suffered from seborrhoeic eczema that resulted in greasy yellow coloured scales on her face and scalp. The emollient she used gave off its own unpleasant smell which the young children around her didn't like. They found it repulsive. They found her repulsive. One of the boys in her class had cut her hair with a pair of safety scissors during an art lesson to the amusement of the others. I had watched as she ran home that afternoon with tears of humiliation gushing down her angular face. But they could not wash away the pain she had felt that day.
Next, she put spots of moisturiser on her forehead, nose, cheeks and chin before massaging them in with the tips of her fingers. This was a routine that had not changed since high school and one that always brought a smile to her face. Though she was not beautiful, her supple skin was envied by many of the other girls. She craved for boys to look at her and love her, but their eyes were bought by the rich blonde who covered herself in expensive skin care products. If truth be told, I too stared longingly at the blonde girl. I patiently watched as she applied foundation and changed into her ruched stretch-jersey black dress. It had been a steep acquisition, considering it was paid for by her student loans. She had insisted and there was no way I could change her mind, it was for me she had said, for our special nights together.
She had never been one for makeup and so it took her three frustrating attempts to put on eyeliner. The mascara was relatively easier. Though she normally wore glasses, for special nights such as this she would put on her chocolate coloured lenses. Her deep grey eyes; eyes that had longed to see better days once she started university, were instantaneously transformed. People at high school had spoken of university as a new beginning full of hope, new friendships and new adventures. But the truth of the matter is that high school never ends and nothing changes but the faces, the names and the trends. And as for life, we’ve only got the one. Her luck didn’t change at university either; well not until I met her.
There wasn’t much left for her to do. The table had been set some time ago and I had lit the scented candle just before she entered the shower. The flame danced for us in its unique manner, casting shadows around the dimly lit room. She sprayed herself with her perfume and put on her Revlon super lustrous lipstick Fire and Ice. It was the same one she was wearing the day we had our first kiss. We had been standing in the lunch queue, waiting to order food. I caught her eye in the glass container which had the cakes within and smiled. She later told me that when she returned the smile, it was because she had remembered something her mother had always said to her. That night while we sat and talked, I noticed her beauty for the first time. Her once oddly angular face was now sleek and refined. Her body, once lanky and thin with bones jutting out in different directions was now curvaceous and complete. And her smile, hiding behind it one of the saddest stories I knew, was mesmerising.
She was ready now and I watched as she walked towards me, hunger in her eyes. But as always, this hunger was not the type to be satisfied at the candle lit table. The flowers sat alone as she kissed me. Her lipstick left a mark on the cold surface of the mirror.
“If you can’t love yourself,” her mother had said. “You can’t expect others to love you either.” She had finally found love.

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With special thanks to AG and SR for teaching me about colours, makeup and the ways of its application.
Italicised words are taken from the song “High School never ends,” – Bowling for Soup.

You star. Splendid. Amazing. Astronomical. Sometimes I wonder whether stars know just how beautiful they are? Sometimes I wonder, do stars, whose job it is to illuminate the dark dark universe around them, know how much light they have? Do stars see their light or do they only see the darkness that surrounds them? In their journey through the universe, do the stars see their path illuminated by other stars, just as we humans use stars or do they ever look at themselves and see their magnificence? The stars can’t speak to me, but I know you can. Take a look at yourself and see your light, because you are everything and so much more than a star.

“Exhausting,” he said to her. “Kids are such work. I can’t wait to have kids of my own, but sometimes thinking about it is scary.”

“Hmm I feel the same way sometimes,” she replied. “Then I slap myself and shout silently ‘How can I bring such beautiful innocence into THIS world.’”

“When you look at the world what do you see? I don’t know about you, but I look at the world, I see it through eyes dark and colourless. It's a bit like blue jeans. No matter how blue they are to begin with, those areas that are constantly stretched and rubbed and poked lose their colour over time. Especially at the knees. Just before they’re about to rip and leave a gaping big hole, they turn colourless. Same with these eyes of mine. Death, failure, loss, destruction, persecution, sorrow and hurt. You name it, they’ve seen it all and they too have lost their colour. The thing is when something loses its colour, it catches other colours around it much more quickly. Like a plain white piece of paper can be painted any colour whereas a bright red one will not show all of them as well. And at this stage, these sunken eyes of mine notice the beauty, notice the hope, notice the love, notice the sacrifice and notice the good, no matter how small it may be. Indeed, there are vast areas lacking light, but if you look hard enough, in the right places, you’ll see it too. Look inside yourself, deep down where the soul resides and you’ll notice that no matter how grimy you may be on the surface the light within continues to burn burn bright. A street lamp gives the same light as when it was new, except the pollution of the cars and the dust deposited by the wind may make it seem otherwise. Now imagine that light multiplied 7 billion times. It would be blinding. The problem isn’t that there is no light in the world. The problem is that most people don’t know how to find it. When I have kids one day insha’Allah, if I fail to teach them anything else, I hope I’ll be able to teach them these two things: I’ll teach them about their light that resides within them. And I’ll teach them that if they share that light of theirs with others around them, it’s the best they can do. Even if the layers of grime and filth on a person’s surface is so thick that it only lets a small pinpoint of light, in the darkest of areas, that too can be illuminating. Remember that, and find your light my friend. If you lose your way, then I’ll share mine with you.”

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Photograph of streetlamp in the sunset, taken from personal photography [link].