The Quilted Dream

‘Allahu Akbar Allah Akbar’
The call to prayer reverberates in the air.
Shimmering through the sunlight.
Gliding past lace curtains, through windows and open doors.
To rest lightly on the ears and hearts of the beloved faithful.

Asha leans her head back against the turquoise window sill
The fluttering lace curtain tickles her face.
A humid breeze languidly strokes her cheek.
The call to prayer is her favourite song.
With a stirring deep in her heart,she answers back the call softly:
‘La haula wa laa quwwata illa billah’

A heavy sigh escapes her lips.
And as her eyes flit over the landscape of rooftops from her vantage point, she feels her heart twang in symphony with the call.

Almost like it’s calling out to her personally.

‘Come out here Asha.’
‘Come pray.’
‘Come live.’
‘Come and be.’

Shaking her head to disperse the pointless musings of her restless heart, Asha goes to make ‘Wudh’u’: ablutions for her noon prayer.

 There is no time for silly thoughts.There are prayers to be made. Cooking to be done. And she has to get back to the office soon.

As she walks out she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Full lips. Almond shaped twinkiling brown eyes. Curly wisps of hair have escaped from the confines of her professional hair bun and fall prettily accross her shoulders. ‘I have a beautiful face’ she muses. And as she turns to walk out of the room, ‘And a generous behind too! That is after all, my African heritage!’

Asha is half black. Half Arab.

She is a black Arab. Or an Arab African.

Caught between two worlds.

…..To Be Continued….

Love And Other Things

Author: Bagande

love

How about that?

I think I am afflicted.

I am an unrelenting, miserable romantic.

And for the life of me, I do not know how I got here.

In my head, I am a cynical, independent feminist. Who doesn’t need any man to complete her.

In reality,  I love a mushy romance novel, a cheesy chick flick, and I dream of falling hopelessly in love…exactly like how it happens in the movies.

I want the cheesy soundtrack and the prince charming. The steamy first kiss and most importantly, the happy ending.

But life is rarely ever like that.

And if your life IS like that..well. Shooooo! Yes! I am shoo-ing you off my blog. You have no place here, o’ person with perfect life. I am here to vent and say that romance is dead, and love does not truly exist. SOOOO before you contradict me, and then I subsequently bite your head off with venomous jealousy…ermmm….kindly press the esc key and be gone 🙂 Hurry along. Yes, good. Now then.

Where was I?

Yes, Love is poo.

Really, it is,

Its this horrible thing, that makes you feel good for a while, gets you hooked, makes you severely confused, and then up and leaves.

Leaving you horribly bereft and worse off than before!

Okay, okay I know, most of you will be saying by now that I’m contradicting myself.

Yes, I said love doesn’t exist. And now, I’m moaning about it.

What I really meant was that REAL love. Romantic love. Movie love. Love love. Yes, that one! Its not real.

Tell me one person, who fell magically in love (ahem, ‘in lust’ more like) at first sight, and their marriage lasted 70 years?

Yea.

You can’t find one.

I on the other hand, met this lovely 92 year old lady. Whose marriage HAS lasted 70 years. And her story had nothing to do with romantic movie love. It was war – time and she did ‘what was expected of a young lady.’ Nonetheless…she is as happy as a peach. Although probably just as wrinkled as a peach too. She was lovely. And she held my hand and told me of a long, and fulfilled life. With many children, and many laughs.

Life isn’t really in technicolour.

Its a splodge of colour here. A splash of laughs there. A collection of moments and half-whispered promises. Hold on to those moments. Enjoy them. Revel in them. Wash your face with them. THIS is your life. Not that one in the little box you watch.

* Disclaimer: This was written when I was feeling throughly disillusioned with ‘love’  I am currently still a hopeless, hapless romantic 😀 *

The Other Woman

‘He walked out on me. He walked out on me!….. Or he might as well have.’

She stares blankly at the wall.

Her eyes, dulled with pain.

The air, so stiff and heavy with emotion, it catches in my throat.

I run the comb through my sister’s inky black hair.

Heavy tresses, glimmering in the dim light of the moon.

The scent of the sea carries through the open balcony doors.

I feel her pain. This woman, this blood of mine.

And as my hand rises and falls, entwined in her hair, my heart bleeds.

Blind rage, overwhelming sadness, grief.

So much grief.

I wish I could hold her heart in my hands, and gingerly nurse it back to health.

Kiss it, and hug it, and whisper sweet nothings to it.

How dare he break it?!

 

Silent tears fall onto her lap.

‘Habibty, you are better off without him.’

‘I know Lulu. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.’

 

 

Love

She loved the guy. She did it for him. She would’ve done anything for him. Some women are like that. Some love are like that. Most love are like that from what I can see. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat. And your self-respect. And your independence. After a while you start throwing people out- your friends, everyone you used to know. And it’s still not enough. The lifeboat s still sinking and you know it is gong to take you down with it. I’ve seen that happen to a lot of girls here. I think that’s why I’m sick of love. – Shantaram

Free

I need to stop living like my heart is caged
When in fact its so free it’s getting sun burnt

I feel like I’m jogging on the same spot
Struggling to stay Exactly where I am
While yearning to break free of the mental binds tying me to my fate

Am I free? Truly free? Are any of us?
Why do we ask of our hearts to give up so much?
How many of us are truly honest with our innermost selves?

I meet very few people who can look in the mirror, see all their flaws and cracks, and count them one by one. Not with love. Or hate. But with a simple acknowledgement of their presence. An honest acceptance.

I aspire to be like her.

Instead I hide. I hide every nuance, flaw and crack under a silken film of pretense.

QQ The pretender 

I’m not a perfect muslim
Im not a perfect daughter
Im NOT a good girl
Im NOT normal
Im not who you want me to be

I’m crazy
And fun
And adventurous
And silly
And not perfectly hijabi
NOT traditional
Definitely NOT your role model. 

The day i realise these shackles binding my personality are made of air and not steel.

That the binds can be flicked off with but a mental shrug.

That’s the day ill truly be free.

Until then…

I continue to dance. My own puppet master. Pulling the strings to my caged performance.

Life, Oh Life…

New Year's Resolution - Day 1

Image by Cath in Dorset via Flickr

Introspection is a fast track route to insanity.

Yet, a life unexamined…..

In the act of recording  an introspective journey into my mind here, I hope to lay in stone my resolutions for the future.

Not New Year’s resolutions, as, it is evident it is now February.

But my Life’s Resolutions.

My dreams and goals.

To be edited, amended, added to, and thrown to the wind, as the situation deems fit.

Not at the come and go of a capricious new year.

Anyhowzawatsit.

Here we go.

My Faults:

1. I am selfish

Earth-shatteringly so. I live for myself. I work for myself. I act for myself. Myself. Myself. Myself.

Plan: I will undertake un-selfish acts. At the very least, ONE a day.

2. I am lazy

Again. Earth-shatteringly so. I LOOOVE to veg out in front of a the T.V screen.

Plan: Join the gym

3. I am shy

Painfully shy. I prefer my company to others. Not only because I’m witty, and funny, and kind….LOL. Mainly because I’m a bit of a loner.

Plan: Smile a little more…to everyone (baby steps)

4. I have lapsed in my faith

Understandably. When faced with trials, one either becomes increasingly devout, leaning on God for strength and love. OR. One shuns the light. And walks (or falls) head first into the darkness. I have had a trying year.

Plan: Prayer (Even though insincere at first, the act in itself shall hopefully bring me closer)

5. I let others walk all over me

This ties in with number 3.

Plan: Humility begets kindness. This is a battle I choose to let God fight for me.

With every bad, I am sure there are 10 good elements within ourselves.

And on that note, I hope to match every negative comment about myself, with two good ones. For the purpose of introspection is self-improvement. And not a spiral into self-loathing.

As a consequence of No. 1 (scroll up) I shall not record those 10 positive attributes here. But I have written them down. And if you are so inclined, I urge you to do the same.

If only to make you smile. And possibly to make you realize, your time on earth hasn’t been such a waste of oxygen after all.

Take a moment.

Take a journey.

Your mind can be a treacherous place.

I recommend body armour.

🙂

Salaams.

I can feel it coming

Sometimes I feel sad for no apparent reason

I feel so... meh

I’m afraid of what’s coming.

It’s not the apocalypse. Or the End Of Days.

It’s not even an alien invasion.

Nope.

Nothing fancy or dramatic.

Just ….

*Drum Rolls*

………….The………..

………………………..Big……………………..

…………………………………………………….Depression…………………….

*Ominous Music*

I try to make light of the matter.

But really. I’m terrified.

Some say humour is used to mask extreme emotion; A coping mechanism.

I say: Ermm…Why did the chicken cross the road?

🙂

Ok, seriously.

I have spoken about my melancholic tendencies before. I come in and out of these….’blues’. Sometimes it’s not so bad. However sometimes, the blue becomes a deep, black.

The Deep Black, it’s not a very pretty place. It’s the place I’m most afraid of.

So, my breath catches.

Frozen in my throat.

My chest tightens.

Am I going to croak?

Will my blues ever stay away forever?

Will these days turn into grays?

Sigh. I gotta keep it together…

God willing, I will have smooth sailing through this stormy weather. I shall come out the other side, a little battle weary, but triumphant. Having successfully banished my demons to the recesses of my mind…once again.

🙂

See you on the other side.

xo

Self-Sabotage

How does one explain it?

Whenever I’m THIS close to something beautiful….

Whenever I’m a teeeny bit closer to achieving a goal…

I mess it up.

Deliberately.

I.

Mess.

It.

Up.

Did I mention that it’s deliberate?

I ‘unno.

I have long since reconciled myself with this aspect of my nature.

I have decided, that I am clinically unstable.

And have analyzed myself to such an stupendous level , I have awarded myself an honorary honors degree in pseudo-psychiatry.

This is what I came up with.

I choose to self-sabotage because I want to have something to blame, other than myself, for my failures.

If I fail that exam, I can blame it on not revising hard enough.

If I don’t get that job, I can blame it on not arriving for the interview on time.

If I lose my best friend, I can say that I didn’t deserve him after all, because I treated him like shit.

Its basically a testament to my deep insecurities, my feelings of low self-worth, and my fear of failure.

And I’m sure every single one of my readers have experienced this at some point in their lives. Forgive my blanket assumptions. But….I’m really just hoping I’m not alone in this.

As I type this, I have lost a job, several friends, a degree and a soul mate…because of my dratted interfering.

Sometimes your worst enemy is yourself.

Check yourself.

Before you wreck yourself.

And on that cheesy note, thank God Monday is over.

Have a Terrific Tuesday..

xo

When Your Life Starts Looking Like A Scene From A Movie

Rihanna with Chris Brown (Explored)

LMA@the facial expressions

When your life starts looking like a scene from a movie…..

Get out.

Run.

Run as far and as fast as you can from that situation.

Ok, in all seriousness.

Dramaholics – mwajijua! (You know yourselves)

The guy who smashes all the plates in your house when he gets angry? Na bado you are with him?

The guy who is so jealous he vets all your facebook friends? (‘No, that one is too handsome. Delete!’)

The girlfriend who shrieks at you like a banshee because you forgot your 10th month anniversary.

Hmm.

To varying degrees, drama excites us.

We thrive on it.

It’s what makes for good T.V and good movies.

But in real life, well.

Its a different story.

Because none of those dramatics actually end well.

The smashing of plates will escalate into smashing your face in.

The jealous boyfriend will start stalking you, or he will smash handsome-facebook-friend’s teeth in.

The clingy girlfriend will…..drive you insane.

Drama is what makes life fun.

But too much of it as with anything can be…well, too much.

I had a boyfriend with whom I never, ever had fights with.

Never. Ever.

He was always cool as a the ocean’s breeze.

Unflappable.

To my insanity, he would just smile affably, and let my anger deflate.

Grrr.

It drove me nuts.

I wanted drama! Arguments. Plate smashing. Passion.

Lol.

Women!

We think we know what we want. But it is seldom good for us.

What you see in the movies….is not real.

Rihanna and her  issues (Love the way You Lie) should not be defining how people see relationships.

A stable, healthy relationship doesn’t have smashed plates in it. Or for that matter, burning houses.

Happy Martin Luther King Day y’all

This Is The Last Time

A cranberry muffin

Yumm...

How many of us have said that?

‘This is the last time …’

We all love issuing ultimatums.

To ourselves.

To our lovers.

To our family.

This is the last time…. I go on a weekend booze bender.’

‘This is the last time…. I pig out on muffins and pizza.’

‘This is the last time…. I will let him hit me.’

‘This is the last time…. you are going to cheat on me…’

‘Next time…next time I’m leaving.’

Sorry, but if you din’t leave the first time…you probably aren’t as good as your word.

When emotions/circumstances/situations come into play, you find yourself making excuses.

‘He didn’t really mean to hit me. He was just angry.’

‘He didn’t really want to cheat. That b**** tempted him.’

‘I will change. I will definitely stick to this diet.’

‘He will change. He will finally stop sticking his stick in every hole and commit to me.’

People don’t change.

Stop issuing ultimatums.

Just act already.

Leave that player.

Drop that muffin.

Go out and get a man who will cherish you.

…………….Emm…….what you still waiting for?

Ah I see………

Next time?

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