Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Blind is the eye that doesn't see You

Don't tell me nature isn't a miracle. Don't tell me the world isn't a fairy tale. Anyone who hasn't realised that, may never understand until the fairy tale is just about to end. Then there is one final chance to tear off the blinkers, a last chance to rub your eyes in amazement, a final opportunity to abandon yourself to the wonder you are bidding farewell to and leaving. 

The Orange Girl

Reading another Jostein Gaarder is like a chocolate bar after a year-long diet. I breezed through this in a day and it ended too quickly, leaving me with a strange tangy-sweet-bitter-melancholic-nostalgic taste. I think I have been gripped with Habitophobia again. The world has grown on me, and I needed this nudge to get fascinated again.

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Georg is reading the letter his dead father wrote him before he died that was only just discovered. His dad is telling him a story- of when he is three and in his arms, out in the backyard. They're looking up at a star-filled sky.

The last time I saw a sky like that was in Baghdad, eleven years ago. A vivid memory. I can see us four cousins on the rooftop of our home, feeling adventurous. We crouch low, peer outside, at a dark street lined with neat rectangular homes and incredibly tall palm trees, silent except for the occasional cricket chirp. From here we can see the front garden of our neighbours on the left, their big brown guard dog standing attentive. One of us throws a pebble, and the dog stands higher, his ears straight. Another pebble and he is barking now- loud barks that pierce the still air. We stuff our hands in our mouths, trying to stifle the giggles. And then the sound of a front door unlocking and the neighbour is out, and we are clambouring over each other to crouch down, unseen. It is then that I lay my back against the wall and look up. Innumerable stars shine back at me. I have never seen anything like this before. It's like somebody painted the entire sky pitch-black and glued tiny diamond bits all over.

Don't tell me the starry sky isn't a miracle.

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I'm making Spaghetti with Tuna Sauce for lunch. Cutting the onions half an hour earlier because I know what it does to me. I chew gum and try not to smell but none of that works. The knife slices through and I am weeping insanely, temporarily blinded. I take a breath, wipe the tears away and resume the cutting, trying to see through my stingy eyes. It's amazing what a little vegetable can do to you.

Don't tell me that's not a miracle.

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Saturday, October 13, 2012

You and Your Beautiful Mind

Do you know how it feels like to love somebody more than yourself and the world with all its contents?

How it feels like to be in constant worry for them? A 24/7 lingering worry. One that not even sleep or intensive tasks can force in a corner, let alone drive away.

Do you know that you are permanently alive on my mind? That I'm thinking about you when I'm reading or daydreaming or listening to other people. That I'm worrying about you when I'm at school, on the road or in the next room.

Remember the year we had a very boring Eid? I took you for a walk while everyone was napping, and we ended up at the deserted beach. We just stood there, staring at the water. Then through some un-spoken agreement started collecting sea-shells. It felt so serene. You asked me questions about God and angels. Remember when I asked you to pose for a picture before we headed back home? You stood back to the water, eyes closed and arms held out wide. I could tell you felt free and happy to be, and it was the best moment of my life.

I wish I could make a deal with the One in charge. A deal that all life's ugly side bounces off you. Even if I'd have to take it. I would gather all the situations and life events and people and words and looks that make you unhappy. Stay watch dog over them and make sure they never dare cross your path.

Do you know that you are the opening sentence to my every prayer? That I don't care what's in store for me as long as you get to feel safe and loved for eternity.

Remember the day you told the big family gathering that you have a beautiful mind? I couldn't stop playing back those words in my head.

I can never be thankful enough for how lucky I am to have you and your beautiful mind in my life.



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