"I Want To Explore On My Own''

I usually talk when I'm fully aware of the topic discussed yet I find that I'm always voicing out an opinion one way or the other. I don't know if others find this irritating though I honestly think it's better than having no say in things at all. What's worse than being quiet is talking complete and utter nonsense. Why word out others' thoughts claiming to be your own? I might quote and refer to some public figures if I happened to have read about any.

That leads me to my next point which is reading about various things. What brought this up is a certain saying that mentions something along the lines that "I'd rather not read to explore on my own" and that sort of stopped me in my tracks for a while: reading gets you in the mind of other people; They write out an organized document of their opinions and by reading that, are you allowed to ponder more? Or do you just agree with all that's there thanks to the convincing evidence laid out in front of you?

Same thing with fictional writings and this deal with your imaginative side. Does reading about new worlds stop your creativity at some point? Does it leave a room for you to imagine when new cool universes are already created and crafted beautifully for you?

Coming from an avid reader, I'm expected to mention the numerous benefits of reading yet I can't help but fall trap in the other contradicting side as well. Reading does harm you only if you’re totally dependent on getting to know other’s views without having any of your own. The trick is to read, analyze, weigh your opinions, try to contradict and support your reasons with logical thinking. If a text could get you to think, then it already did its purpose and it’s left for you to muse over the thought, consider it more thoroughly to come up with your own opinion, leaving aside the author’s.

So are you the type that prefers to keep quiet and listen without having a say in certain conversations? Or are you the one who reads, depending on others’ thoughts or rather choosing to think things through in order to have a clearer view on your point?

Published today, 4th of May on Oman Observer

3 Things I'm Grateful For

There are a lot of things I'm extremely grateful to have in my life but career wise, here's the ultimate 3;

Getting Published: I never thought, not in a million years, that I’d actually see my name in print. Sure there’s the dream of publishing my own novel after being discovered in a so-hollywoodish kind of way but to have my own column is something I’ve never foreseen before.

Winning Cubscribe: I know I was supposed to be optimistic about the whole thing but I wasn't. The topic we choose was alright though the approach we took could have been different. Nevertheless, my team and I won the The Week's challenge for Best Design and Overall Winner.

Writing and finishing stories: The only story I've ever written and finished was Perspective just because it was a school project. When I started writing after that, I've scribbled plots here and there and a couple of stories but it is when I posted them on here that I had the courage and the drive to work on them further. It has a lot to do with my readers' comments that I saw my potentials in the true sense of the word. So a huge THANK YOU to all of you out there who stood with me since the first days of my noob-ish attempts.

In His Late Memory

March, 11th 09

'Why!' she continues screaming, her voice the only audible one above the others.

His children are done with cleaning him and now, they are taking him to his room, the one he used to sit in, with Oman TV switched on at all times. His body is covered with white linen passes across my eyes as I fight to shut my eyelids so that I won't see him like this. I just don't want to.

Some of them are walking in on him now, praying for him and sobbing. The women next to me watches me carefully as I let out my tears drop down my cheeks, not caring, I let them fall and as they do, I feel my heart sinking down to the floor. This isn't supposed to happen, I say inside my head.

'Let her be....'
'This is too hard for her…'
'Poor girl...'
'She can't....'

They think I can't hear their whispers but I can…and I am hearing them.

'Come with me….'
'This is your last chance….'

Her words echo through my ears and I finally make my decision and stand up. The woman who is a total stranger to me and who was hugging me moments ago so tightly let me go as I am standing up now and making my way to my mother across the crowd of weeping women.

My foot carried me till the final inches of his door. People are everywhere so as the tears and grief that are hanging in the air, wrapping all of us, especially his children who were brave enough to actually wash and watch his dead body.

I am here now and all my senses are numb. The next moment, my aunt holds me in a tight embrace and whispers in my ear 'Are you afraid, honey?' she says 'Don't be. It's just like he's sleeping'. And because I am a fool, I believe her and enter the room.

There he is, lying on the floor. Someone says 'kneel down and kiss him...'

'Go on now...'

But I can't. I am too weak to do that. Catching a glimpse of him there, I walk out quickly, thinking of how stupid I am to believe that he is sleeping. He is not, simply.

I go back to where I was before I made the bravest and stupidest decision in my life. I watch my brother, so tough that his face is the colour of bright red without any tears. I look around and watch my two cousins, the same state of face as my brother's. And then, I lay my eyes upon my Dad and my uncles. They are too numb to what's happening that they are not crying, I decide, because only that explains why they're actually holding on.

Where's my grandmother? I ask myself. Then hushed whispers flows in and I know they were about to take him to the grave. I close my eyes as they pass his coffin and out to the door although I catch a slight glimpse of the brown wooden coffin.

I try my best to not think of what this means but I fail to do so, because, for the first time, it's all real to me:

He's gone….
Not coming back again….
The last time…

And I cry and cry in silence, not letting out any voice out as I am sure there isn't any.

'Allahuma sakinho fi fasee7i janaatik' a woman starts praying for his soul and I keep crying and saying Amen all along. For the first time, I hear my grandmother's voice. She lets out a high-pitched scream that make me jump off my feet. She's crying so loudly that I can hear her even though she's at her room and I'm in the living room, surrounded by strangers.

After the prayers, a woman says to me 'Do you know who I am?' I look at her stupidly. I do not care if I am rude or not but this isn't the time. She just says 'Your grandmother used to bring you to my house and you were running around with diapers' she laughed at a memory of mine that I didn't recognize or didn't actually care to.

Some of the women look at me and acknowledge each other 'She's X's daughter'. I look around once more and notice that I'm the only granddaughter who dared to attend my grandpa's funeral. The rest are not capable of doing this, my older sister included.

Flashes of his last moments with us are appearing in front of my now-foggy eyes.

~*~

When I first knew about his condition, I wanted to visit him at the hospital. He has been there for a week and I knew I must visit because I'm usually the one who does. My sister hates hospitals and can't watch sick people sufferings and miseries. I can't too but I vowed to so as to be there for the people I love no matter what.

I entered his room and he immediately asked 'Where's Mohammed?' Mohammed is my brother and has always been my grandpa's favourite. 'He wasn't allowed to come', I said because he's under-aged.

One week later, I heard Dad talking to Mom about his condition and how the doctors asked to take out the respiratory device that is helping him breathe. My Dad's brothers and sisters, Dad said, insisted on keeping him alive.

And Dad made the right decision, because, once, when it was dad's turn to sleep next to grandpa's bedside, he woke up and said 'You're a good son'. He lived another 2 weeks before passing away. Dad still remembers what he last said to him. It means a great deal to him and I'm proud of their relation for eternity.

May god bless his soul, I loved him so much and I still do.

The Hidden Future

Have you ever thought of how you’re going to be like and where in let’s say...10 years from now on? I know I do think about this every waking moment. I stress on what might lie ahead yet try to focus on the present time.

Sometimes, I just doze off and daydream of the future, of my older version and what I might be doing at that exact moment, I try as hard as I can to feel the moment, sense it so it could at least become a reality, my present, even for a short while.

People find it weird but I still do it. I can’t wait to know how I’d be like in 10 years, what’s my occupation, or if my attitude would change or not. It gets frustrating at times but I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Having said that, I plan to lead the same life as now of course with minor changes; not having to wake up early in the morning to attend school, for example, or meet my friends 5 times a week. I am afraid that when I grow a bit old that I might change, or my perspective might change on different things because I obviously like things the way they are.

But then again, I am known for my dislike for change. I’ve tried to convince myself that change doesn’t necessarily mean to be bad, that for once, it can result to the total opposite of my ideas, to the better.

What about you, readers, what’s your perspective of change? Are you afraid of it as much as I am?

And since I've blogged way too much this weekend, I shall leave you all with my favourite song:

Dreaming Big

I dream of graduating with top grades…I picture myself at the graduation ceremony…my name being called out loud for everyone to hear and I have a deja-vu of walking to the stage, the only different is, I leave the rest behind me this time, for it became history from this moment onwards.

The scene dissolves and here I am, acing my third driving trial with such proud and confidence, overwhelmed by an euphoric feeling of independence.

5:30, the clock reads. This is it, I say out loud to make it sound official and surreal. My head feels heavy even though I had a little amount of sleep the night before…I take a quick bath and change into my suit, the same one I bought a month ago for the day I have only witnessed in my most beautiful dreams. Within less than an hour, I step into my own library. The secretary greets me and my employees scream ‘congraaaaaats!’ together and I am the happiest and luckiest girl in the entire world.

“Could you please…erm…dedicate this to my daughter? You are her only inspiration”, I nod, satisfied and give the mother a broad smile one that says it all. I sign on the book and stare at it till I realize that it is her copy but I am the one who has her name on the cover and this pleases me to no end.

“I dream my painting, and then I paint my dream’’ ~ Vincent van Gogh.

My wishes revolve around achieving what I have in mind of ambitious ideas. The world is only waiting for me to get out there and make a move, take a stand and announce that I am here to paint it with bright, beautiful colours.

“A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he thinks, he becomes’’ ~ Mahatma Gandi

Visualizing is part of getting what you want in life. There is no shame in dreaming big, aiming for the best and setting noble goals. The shame lies in being pessimistic, excepting everything to easily come to where you are. Who tells you life is easy is insane. You cannot possibly expect to have a fairy god mother to change your status once you are desperate, nor a tall bean tree to give you gold whenever.

“We are the music-makes, and we are the dreamers of dreams” ~ Arthur O’Shaughnessy

These stuffs do not exist. Fairytales where created by great minds that chose to act, to write it all down for us but they did not stop there, did they? No, to those who could not visualize it, movies were made. They made it easier for you to get its content. Again, things did not end up here: You get to play video games based on your favourite character...the part where you get so engrossed in it that you almost forget about your reality.

Sorry to burst your bubble, but you should get out of the comfort zone once in a while. Go out there and do what you’re good at, prove your existence by doing what you love with the people you love.

Note: A lot of this talk was inspired by The Secret, and reviewing the book needs a post of its own.

Enjoy the rest of your week because I am sure as hell that I am going to enjoy mine.

Inspirational Quotes

'The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside of us while we live'.

Sometimes, we just lose the sense of living. We wish that we were not brought up to this world in the first place. We cheat, lie, kill, and do other sorts of things and that’s when the regret part comes in. We often think that this sweet feeling of remorse can simply erase the others off. We walk around knowing we’re on the right path, and there’s nothing, not even a single thing can change this, when in fact, we simply lost our values and ethics in order to cope up with our surrounding. Life is ripping the humanity out of us just so it could give us a space on it. We must not forget the people we’re living close by are also humans, just like us, and by a word, we can easily hurt them. Saying sorry is the least we could do in this situation, even though they might not get over it, but at least know that your job is over by uttering this 5 letter word.

'We don't really forget anything bad that happened to us, we simply choose to ignore it to be able to move on'.

One of the blessings we own is the fact that we’re able to forget. Forget and move on, as if nothing happened. Though there are certain things which we carry along with us no matter what. It’s usually the bad things we’ve been through and decided to forgo to be able to live without the knowledge of its existence. It brings great joy to us if we believed we’re living the perfect life. The only sad thing is, we’re actually not.