Shining Face of Beauty

Since college started I’m sure that all of the bloggers and writers are having trouble writing due to the lack of time. During the last two days I wanted to write but the trouble wasn’t in time or studies, the problem was finding the perfect words to start because whenever I try to remember what happened I feel speechless just like that day.

Let’s remember the story right from the start..

Before I graduate one of the suggested universities was Khalifa University and it was the first university who wanted to interview me. I remember it was on Saturday and I was really scared because I wondered if someone would like me to be her friend. As I walked and sat down on the reception couches or as we call it now “the main” I saw group of girls revising some algebraic principles because our placement test was in Maths and Computer. One of the girls sat next to me and we started talking as if we knew each other long time ago. We were so nervous but we were good at calming each other. Few months after I decided to join Khalifa University and on our orientation day I met this girl once again, she hugged me as if she knew me years ago and I actually loved that because I didn’t feel like a stranger to her.

…..

This is my second year in Khalifa University and yes she is my friend now. I can define her as joy, it’s hard not to smile when you see her around, her smile forces you to smile and her hugs brighten your days. I used to ask myself what makes this girl such a great person? Few days ago I found the answer. We had a meeting in the Learning Center to discuss “The Fault in Our Stars” by John Green, each one of us started analyzing the theme, characters and the story line; during that I wanted to share a story with her but she insisted on sharing it with everyone else and I did! I felt exposed a bit because this book reminds me of a personal experience that I’m still going through. But still at that moment I didn’t focus on everyone or myself in that place but I saw her and how she tried to deliver her message, which was about pain and I understood that the amazing soul who was sitting right next to me went through something that made her the sweet loving yet tough person. 

When the members left, some stayed behind we saw a short scene from the movie that they’re still making, I was touched but when I looked to my left hand side I saw her tears but she tried her best to hide them; the scene ended, a girl started asking about our emotions and that’s when my friend told her that she lost her father because of cancer. When she said that my soul shook my body and I felt that a hurricane had twisted my heart that made me realized my friend “Munira” is a strong lady who faced so much but still she smiled, laughed, hugged, joked and inspired.

Munira’s name means bright and shining face of beauty in Arabic and that suits her soul too because she’sa stunning  person who turned pain into a beautiful piece of art that left a mark on our souls. I can’t describe her perfectly because she is too perfect to be described.

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Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot

Pocket Full of Patience

This is for every man who placed his family needs before his..

For every man who became a local hero to his family and everyone around him..

…..

A knock on the door woke him up, then a sweet voice whispered behind the door, “Mohammed, wake up dear.”  He moved out of his bed and placed his feet on the ground, ground’s coldness moved from his veins to his brain and something flashed in his brain, “C’mon Mohammed it’s a new day, survive and then visit your bed once again.”

Mohammed is the house’s man, even though he’s too young for that. Friends hangout and have fun while he’s running errands but he never complained and that made him his mom favorite boy. But today he woke up heavyhearted; he started counting the seconds the moment he got out of his bed, “I just want this day to end.. I want to go back to bed.. I’m tired of all of this.. When will I get rid of this situation..” All of those thoughts are running back and forth in his head.

He walks into the kitchen wearing blue sweat pants and pajama shirt, he sat on the wooden table and that’s when his mom stood behind him and placed a plate right in front of him, then she rested her hands on his shoulders.

“Here you go, plain pancakes your favorite breakfast.” His mom said. He looked up to see a warm smile drawn on her face, and then he kissed her hands and smiled, “Thank you.”

Mariam his eight years old sister was next to him, she opened the pack of blueberries, and used them to make a face, nose and smile on Mohammed’s pancakes. Then she laughed, “It matches your pants and because blueberries will kick your blues away.” Mohammed laughed at her innocence and hugged her tight between his arms. She tried to push him away but he refused to let her go then she said, “Let me go, your arms.. I can’t breathe!!” He opened his arms then Mariam ran and hid behind her mom.

She peaked behind her, “Mommy his arms are like rocks.” Her mom laughed and said, “It’s his new thing baby, he puts his anger to improve his health. I like it that way.”

Mohammed stretched, “Well that was delightful but I have to go now.”

After dressing up and getting to his car, Mohammed went to his college. He knew that it’ll be a long stressful day but that boy got a pocket full of patience. He walked into that door and straight away to his class. Physics, Calculus, Arabic and other courses that sucked life out of him but still that pocket was full.

He entered his house at six in the evening and he rushed back to his room to be reunited with his bed; the moment he closed the door a similar morning knock came but this time it was quieter. He opened the door to see his mom standing, “Mohammed can you take your brother Ahmed to his friend, drive Mariam to your grandmother’s house and get couple of things from the grocery.”

He took a deep breath, “But mom I just came from college and it was a tiring day can all of them wait till I get some rest?!”

She wanted to shout at him but she knew he was right, “What do you want me to do? You’re the only one I can count on and you don’t want to do it. FINE! I’ll find a way to take them there.”

He rubbed his hair, “Fine mom I’ll do what you want.” He couldn’t see her like that.

“NO!” she shouted at him.

“Please mom.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.. I’ll do what makes you feel better.” He apologized.

She walked away and didn’t look back at him. Mohammed had to surrender to reality and kiss his rest goodbye for now. He took his siblings, got what his mom wanted and then he picked them again.

At eleven in the evening he walked in his home again and this time he prayed no one no asks him for anything. In his room before he closes the door his mom came and said, “Mohammed your dad is on the phone.” Mohammed picked it up, “Hey dad.”

“Hey Mohammed, how are you son.”

“I’m great dad, how about you.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“What made you say that?” Mohammed laughed.

“Because you’re doing my job and your job at the same time, I know that me being away from you and everyone else is hard. Umm.. I can’t say how proud I am of you..”

“Dad it’s my job and I’m proud to be your son, thanks.”

He hanged up and handed his mom the phone; she held his hands instead and hugged him, “Your dad and I are really proud of you, you proved that you’re a son of a man. I love you and I’m proud of you.”

“I love you mom, I’ve got a pocket full of patience.” He whispered.

She laughed and hugged him even tighter, “Pocket full of patience, I like that..”

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Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot

Move Forward

Have you ever stopped doing what you loved because the reason that made you do it on the first place is gone? Well that’s what happening to me lately. I was able to write thoughts and scribbles on my journal, phone notes and even my college handouts. I hold my pen during tough situations (including calculus lectures) and I keep on writing continuously but once I read it, I say to myself “No, that’s not what you write!” because those aren’t proper sentences not even fragments! Those are uncompleted thoughts, and the weird thing that all of those words are related to one thing.. Amna.

Ever since Amna passed away I couldn’t write properly and whenever I try to write something related to her or memories, my eyes get blurry and I stop myself before losing it again. You may say “Why she’s writing about something that’s personal?” but I know that most of the people who know me knows Amoon as well and how dear is she to me. I’m not writing to mourn her but those are my thoughts that I was able to gather from my scribbles..

Have you ever thought of waking up, not on bed but in heaven instead? Pearls surrounding your bed, rivers of honey and purest water and meeting your loved ones after a long long time..

For the past two months that was my biggest wish, to leave as soon as possible. I try to stop myself from having such thoughts because I hate being negative and some thought I’m suicidal, but it’s not about that! I’m not going to swallow the nearest pack of pills or use any belts to hang myself, you know why? Because I don’t own my soul, with god’s permission I walked into this world and with his approval I’m going to leave it!

It saddens me more when others tell me “It’s going to be okay.” I know they’re trying to console me but I know it’s not okay, not for now. What they don’t understand is that I lost a friend, a sister to me. Words can’t mourn her and words can’t comprehend my pain, it’s more than that..

I’m scared,

I’m lost,

I can’t guide myself to me.

I miss her voice,

I miss her night calls,

I miss her brown eyes,

I miss her laugh,

I miss her singing voice,

I miss her complains,

I miss how her sound changes when she’s excited about something,

I miss how she’d call me no matter how late it is just to tell me about her day,

I miss every single part of her that completed my day..

I miss her.

I don’t blame this life or anyone this is how it goes. They walkout to let others in but I keep asking myself when I’ll walk out? When I do, will I be satisfied with everything I left behind? And will I go to the “better place”? but right now I stopped myself from having such thoughts because all of that isn’t in my hand. All I can do now is to live my life to the fullest. Putting myself down won’t please god and I’m sure that’s not what Amna wanted for me or to any person she loved.

This life can be filled with misery and pain but I do believe that better days are coming and lately they’re good to me but still, I miss her presence. I also know that hard times define you but don’t give them a chance to bring you down and describe you as a loser or pathetic because god is on our side and he’s watching us so go and knock his door, he’ll never let you down; and for Amna, she’s in a better place and we’ll be reunited there where no misery can reach us or goodbyes separate us..

And I hope I can get back to where I was or move forward to a better spot.

_____

Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot

اللهم ارحم آمنه الحوسني برحمتك اللتي وسعت كل شيء وابني لها بيتاً في الجنة واجعل ملتقانا هناك

Breathe Without Me

Bloggers challenge #23: Interpret a picture.

I opened my eyes it was a rainy day, the pretty lady wished me a good morning and then walked away. I wanted to move closer to the window and see outside but I remembered that there’s a plastic wire attached to my nostrils and a needle inserted in my thigh.

Nobody used to visit me at the morning, not even nurses and doctors. They all said that it was my time to rest but I needed someone to be there for me, especially during rainy days because they’re full of beauty and I wanted someone to share those moments with. You were there but you were thousand miles away and I didn’t tell you that I’m living in a hospital for now; I want to teach you how to live without me and so far you’re doing a great job. Sometimes I get mad because you can forget me at times but I always remember you, excuse my anger dear I think that’s the side effects of my medications and my soul..

I need you now more than ever but I live in a tragedy and this might bring you down even though I’m always lost when you’re not around.

Some days I cry and beg them to make the pain end; mum’s tears cover her face when she tries to say, "I wish there was some way to make them stop it"

The pain ease when you text me that you’re happy or you had a great day but sometimes it kill me because I feel that I don’t matter to you anymore; and again my whole damn life looks brighter when I feel your smile from thousand miles so cheer up beautiful cause you were brought up that way..

It nearly killed me the day where they put him in the ground and I’m really glad that I’ll stay for a short while because I’m sure that I’ll leave before you do and I know I’m selfish because that day might make you cry but at least I’ll be in a place with no pain at all just immortal happiness; I hope I meet you there after a long time, if you got there and I wasn’t around then pray for me that the flame doesn’t rip my pale skin and burns my veins more than the chemicals that they feed me now.

…..

The rain just stopped and I think I’m vanishing but before that..

I’m sorry for not telling you that I’m dying..

I’m sorry for not telling you why I’m upset..

I’m sorry for not telling you that I’m hurt..

I’m sorry for pretending to be strong when I’m fragile just like a rose petal..

I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me..

I’m sorry for getting mad at you and not telling you..

I’m sorry for feeling neglected by you..

Sister, this life isn’t simple and it isn’t easy, it barely gives us a break to breathe but sometimes we find someone who saves us and helps us to make it through.. Today nobody is going to save me from the fall out; my only savior is god so please keep me in your prayers as I fade fast.

Please breathe without me..

 _____

Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot

Who's the Parrot?

Bloggers challenge #22: confessions 

I’ll write something that I wrote once before but I didn’t say it in details so I hope today I can. To every close person to me I’m known as “Matoo” –it means parrot in Arabic- and it’s funny how it all started.. The things that I’m about to write used to make me sad because I felt neglected but as I grew up it made stronger and proud of who I am.

My father is a Marine and due to that he used to go on missions, I’m talking about six months to one-year missions. The day I was born my father wasn’t around because he was on a mission in the Unites States, he stayed there for a while then he came to see the new baby girl who looks like his sister. My mom told me when he came most of the goodies went to the new kid. Right after his mission to USA my dad went to Egypt for another mission but this time he stayed much longer, he came back for few weeks and went back to Egypt for months, then I started telling my mom that he doesn’t want to stay with us and I wished I had a bigger mind to believe that my father is the hero but at the time I thought heroes should stay with the ones who love them but my father was barely home.

In one of his visits he came and brought a parrot with him, it was an African Gray parrot. I was so happy and excited –I do remember that because I was fours years old- and I felt dad’s love at that moment. After a while dad had to travel again but he left the parrot with us.

The parrot was a baby when dad brought him and I acted like his mommy when no one was around. My mom had to work and my older siblings went to school, so I used to sit with the parrot for a long time and I keep on repeating my name to it until the parrot was able to imitate my voice and say “Maitha” my name was the only thing the parrot can pronounce.

After couple of months my dad came home again but this time he wasn’t going back for a long time because his mission in Egypt succeeded. When he came back he realized that our parrot could say my name so my dad came with the idea that the parrot will be called Maitha and I’ll be called matoo, we switched the names.

That’s the story behind my cheesy name Matoo. My parents and grandma still call me that and as I grew up with this name I learned two valuable lessons.

The parrot represents the child that still lives in me, we all have hidden child in us but mine is awake even though I’m nineteen and I’m actually a kid but the child the parrot holds is different because it stands for innocence and hope.

The parrot situation proved the baby me wrong, because my father loves my family, my country and me! That’s why he traveled, he served a better cause and he taught me that heroes go through hard times but at the end of the day they are always loved and cherished for what they did to us.

I admit that at some point in my childhood I felt unloved because of my father’s absence but now I feel that I’m the luckiest child in this world for having a hero in my house and I look up to him because he handled lot of things just because of our happiness and our country’s security; maybe the act that my father did was small but to me he’s the knight who saves the village from the ugly monsters. I’m grateful for the parrot that lives in me because it made me realize that I have the greatest father in the world and I love him more than I love myself.

So who's the parrot exactly?

Maitha is the parrot who tries to be a great person just like her father.

_____ 

Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot