Cup of Tea

Blogger's challenge 5

8:56 AM.

That was the timing when I knew about this week’s challenge, I was happy because I thought it’ll be an easy one but I forgot that the word challenge exists for a reason. What is my favorite memory? I asked myself while knowing that this question has its pros and cons. Pros: I had lot of great memories that I’m grateful for; cons: I can’t pick one to write about! So until I figure it out, I promised myself not to rewrite this or delete it.

4:30 PM.

After dwelling with the chamber of my memories, I finally found one. However, the odd yet beautiful thing about this memory is that it keeps repeating itself so please read this with a peaceful mind and leave everything behind your back.

In 2014, my mother had to go through a very complicated surgery in order to remove a cancerous tumor and to be quite honest by now we are used to that. However, before every surgery my mom has to talk to us as if it’s our goodbye and it is painful even though we go through this process over and over. This time it was my turn to talk to her first; she called me to tell me how much she loved me, I was on the verge of crying because it hurts to fake goodbyes –I know she’ll always come back- but before my tear falls she said something while we were in this situation,

“Don’t forget your dad’s tea after the Maghrib prayer.”

For a second I remained silent but then I started laughing because we were caught up in this ugly scene but all she thought of was tea. She was serious, so I stopped laughing and promised her that I won’t forget it and this is how we concluded our conversation.

Weeks after her recovery, she came back home and right after the Maghrib prayer the pot of tea was ready with mint on the side. I laughed again and when dad asked me why, I told him the whole story. He told her that there were other things that you should’ve worried about but all you thought of was a cup of tea and she replied to him by saying that she sees things differently.

It is not a perfect memory that is weaved out of happiness but this memory.. I keep on carrying it with me and I try to remind myself of it whenever I face a hardship. You see my mother was caught up in a tough situation but she chose to ignore it and focus on a cup of tea; and since she is my book of wisdom, I learned that with every hardship I should think of that cup of tea.

Memories don’t have to be created in perfect scenery for it to be engraved in the back of your mind as “good memory”. They can be made in sad hopeless situations or happy ones but later on it’ll show you that it’ll be there on the shelf of memories and if you placed it right, I’m sure this memory will make you smile.

Now every time my mom travels I tell her, “his tea will always be ready and there’s a cup for you as well” and she laughs because both of us know that she’ll come back.

Out of You

Blogger's challenge 4: Find a poem and reply to it. 

They had no idea what to make of you.

You wake up everyday with a rusty smile,

And walk on the tips of your bruised feet.

You greet everyone and everything with a smile,

And a handshake taken out of a pocket full of love.

The world questioned your happiness,

And you confused them.

You wished upon stars that were dead by the time your wishes were uttered,

And you didn’t give up.

They had no idea what to make of you.

They looked at you with terror not knowing how to drag you down with them,

Little they know,

Some souls forgot how to feel the world so they decided to feel themselves instead.

_____

Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot 

Nature is Calling

And we're back to blogger's challenge, 
Blogger's challenge 1: Spring

Nature calls you.

I've been told that lot of times;

And I also thought of that.

Tulips bloom,

Grass gets greener,

The skies are painted with blue hues..

But then I remembered you.

And I remembered what I told you,

I told you what they said,

Nature calls you.

But allow me to tell you something else..

Nature calls you,

While roses wait for you to be picked for the wrong lover,

Dandelions are waiting to be blown to chase your dying wishes,

The clouds are up there for you to remember that the sky is the limit.

Yet again, nature is calling.

I am calling.

Waiting for you to look at me just like how you look at the wrong lover,

Dying to be one of your dying wishes to scream, "I am here!",

Hoping that one day you'll place your hands over mine so we can soar beyond the skies together.

Nature is calling..

I waited and waited.

Dry summer 

Pale autumn 

Bitter winter 

I'm spring now, full of hopes that are starting to wilt.

Finally, I realize that you're deaf when it comes to nature's call.

_____

Hope and Love

Maitha the Parrot 

I'm Right

Mamma warned you about the bad boys and girls, didn’t she? And she probably taught you that villains are just bad people that the princess should get away from and not try to fix. That’s what mamma tried to teach me but little did she know that her girl would use her nails to dig deep to find good and she would not run away from the beginning of the story just because a villain looked bad.

Some people blink to get a clearer version of what is in front of them but not me, I blink to make sure that I don’t miss the faces of the person who is standing in front of me. Well, it’s not wrong to have different faces, even I have couple of faces some for everyone and some for the ones who deserve to see my true colors; and I think this is why I was able to see everyone clearly.. Everyone admired this about me but I never declared judgments until I encounter the person whom everyone is fussing about.  

I think it was December when I realized that I was wrong about this. It started out with a boy, typical isn’t it? But let me tell you this boy.. my boy isn’t like any boy or maybe was..

Tall boy, the reflection of his Kandoura made his hair and eyes look darker. His dark daring eyes were able to find everyone’s eyes and look at their souls but not mine, and I don’t know why looking at his eyes was hard work for me because he’d never look at mine unless we talked about something irrelevant and that’s not how my trick works. I tend to save myself from people and save them from themselves sometimes because I can read eyes and maybe this why I failed to save myself from him.

At first, his charm didn’t play well on me because he was able to talk to anyone easily and pull a smile to perfection and that was until we talked for the first time. It started it out with how are you with his head bent down and a soft tone, and ended up in an argument about the legacy of Aristotle and our voices rising to “I know him better than you”. Basically, this is how our conversations went; it escalated from how was your day till something that my friends would never hear me talk about in front of them because it will simply bore them to death.

Typical story went on and on till it ended one day, but I am not going to end it for you this way; I want you to feel the happiness he offered and the frowns he painted to smiles. I want you to feel the pain and agony as I narrate it. I want you to know how I broke down my empire of wisdom and rebuilt it into a legacy out of a brick of despair.

So here I am, my dear.. let me celebrate your charm for one last time.

..

To charming minus the prince,

 I am not willing to ask how are you because you always managed to say “I’m fine” while making me that you’re not fine at all. That made me feel better since I knew that I’m always needed; but not anymore, am I right?

I am writing you this.. not really for you, but for them to feel what you have put me through. Have I told you that you are beautiful? Not handsome, but beautiful and that’s not because of your angelic face or mesmerizing smile. You’re beautiful because you knew how to tame my demons and make them act angelic, and I wish you didn’t teach them that, they can’t stand themselves as demons since now you’re gone. Honey, you’re beautiful because you weren’t poetic but the whole damn poem that I used to love reciting every night before I go to sleep. You were beautiful.. but not anymore, am I right?

My walls were so high, no one had the courage to stand in front of them but I was waiting for the day where someone wouldn’t dare to destroy them but sneak away from the guards, climb those rusted walls and get to me.. I thought you did that, until one day I decided to open my eyes instead of my heart and I found out that my guards are dead and my walls were sand. I believed that you climbed them; but you didn’t, am I right?

I opened my eyes wide and tried to find you but I couldn’t.. I blinked more than ones maybe this time, I’ll get a glimpse of you but still I couldn’t. I rubbed my eyes and washed them with my tears but all I saw was a boy who was ready to raise his hand to wipe away any girl’s tear. I couldn’t find you my love. I slept and woke up hoping that one day, you’ll see that I’m agonizing here.. you didn’t see me, well I thought you did all the time and saw that I’m not like her; but not anymore, am I right?

Yesterday, I stood and fell at the sight of my walls, they are broken, my heart is shattered and I am in pain. What have I done to you? Why didn’t you respect my memory and not betray me with lots of hearts? Why couldn’t you wait till my wounds heal, let the scars alone.. I guess you cared about me once; but that was long ago, am I right?

Here I am, today, realizing that it’s not my fault. It’s not my fault that you want to implant a wound in every girl’s heart. It’s not my fault that you no longer see Aristotle or Rumi in my words. It’s not my fault if you choose to throw your heart in everyone’s hand and then come back hoping that I’ll understand. I will not show you my anger or rage even though it can burn your walls and shred your soul into pieces, I still care for you and I can never cause a pinch of pain even when you decided to dig a well of ache in my heart. You forgot that I’m only, am I right?

Mamma told me, save the ones who need to be saved, but instead of saving the ones who were burning, I looked for the one who started the fire, I looked for you.. Hoping that I’m going to be the water, that my waves will hold you and calm your wild flame; but I was wrong, so damn wrong, right?

But here I am my dear, my gone love, the reason that kept me sane one day, celebrating by blowing off your charm because you no longer light my days not after you burned my finger tips.

Here’s to you, I wish you well no matter where you go.. I’m being true unlike you, am I right?

Faithfully,

Strong without your embrace.

This time, I’m right

____

So here’s a lesson for you, not everyone wants to be saved.