Just an Observation

7:50 am

I wake up,groggy from the sleepless night and weakened by the pill popping.

I wash my face, I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize me anymore.

I don’t care.

I wear whatever is clean, I pick my bag, take the elevator, Said, the new doorman, smiles and says goodmorning. I mumble something in the same context and head for the cab.

There is always a begger around the corner, in 12 years, she has been there and I
have never given her money, I have always felt she is a professional one and I don’t feel right about giving money to her kind.

The Nile meets me with its still water , I always look the other way, no reason, just an observation.

Before I reach the Moneeb bridge, there is the HSBC new building, a group of Koreans are always walking inside the building, three guys and one girl, why on earth would we be hiring Asians when we have this rate of unemployment is beyond me, no reason, just an observation.

Two blocks down, a young woman is always getting into her car, she always wears short skirts, she has ugly hairy legs, I know this for a fact because the wind always blows her skirt up, she never seems to mind, I can’t find a reason, it is just an observation.

There is a bridal shop right beneath the bridge, It has beautiful dresses, the window display is changed every day, the theme is usually one color, I make a point to see the display every day, it is something that makes me smile every day, no reason, just an observation.

When I reach the building at work, I always arrive at around 8:30, I always wait for the elevator with a man who always looks me up and down in disgust, and he always steps into the other elevator or waits for the next one, I always get into the elevator smiling at his attitude, no reason, just an observation.

Eight hours of laughter, arguments and work will pass, on the ride home, I will be looking at miserable looking people trying to catch a ride home, I will be thankful for getting back to maadi, I smile when I see the nile again and I observe its water all the way home, again, no reason, just an observation.

My mum always smiles with relief when I walk in, then she tells me every single little thing that has happened when I was not there, it always irritates me, she never ceases, I never complain, I smile and I go to my room, no reason, just an observation.

I will go to my favorite café, I will play tarneeb and drink coffee, I will go to the doctor (one of them anyways), I will go home tired, and I will always stand at my building’s entrance for a moment ,at 10 pm every night, I take in a deep breath, wish my beloved trees good night, no reason ,just an observation.

I will get into bed, take my antibiotic du jour, my anti depressant du jour and my pain killer du jour, I read for 20 minutes, write for another twenty. Then sleep dreamlessly. I always do that, no reason, just an observation.

For no reason I will wake up at 3:15 and again at 6:03, no reason, just an observation.

Here is the thing, at these moments, I always think of you, just your face.



No Reason, Just An Observation

The Road Less Taken

Night wraps all the trees.

The sound of my car engine fades away as I park.

Doors are shut…silence all around.

My ability to move is no longer there.

I am tired.

So very tired….3 years of pretending are finally taking their toll on me.

Robert Frost’s “The road not taken” keeps echoing in my head.

My eyes turn blurry, my knees are weak, tears begin to warm my face.

Red and yellow lights begin dancing in front of me.

I lock the car and reach for the phone hoping my parents are upstairs to rescue me.

My *I am a grown up* alter ego kicks in and the phone drops .
Silence.

More silence.

Dancing lines fade away…

I keep repeating

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference”

Failed careers, uninspired nights, words lost and emotions forbidden may still come
in the future for me.

I will know things and learn things…moments like these will come around again… I will grow tired again.

Choices will lay ahead … I will not always know what to do.

Parents will breathe down my back, society will press me even more, friends will read into my actions and take it the wrong way and I will not always know what to do.

Jobs will continue to be uninspiring, relationships unfulfilling and laughter non hearted.

Pretense will continue to rule my life and small details will continue to be taken over by me.

But I have already known my destiny.

I have chosen to take the road less traveled and that already has made all the difference.

Growing Up

Lights always flicker in hospitals. Did you ever notice that?

People also get sick in hospitals.

And people realize things in hospitals.

My first hospital experience was waking up mid surgery when I was 4. I had been chasing a butterfly and I had lost my balance trying to catch it. And I broke my arm.

That day I learnt that mommy and daddy can’t take all the pain away regardless of how much they want to.

When I was 14 I had my appendix removed, I was at school , mom was at work and dad was on his way to his. He came to pick me up, took me to a hospital and decided for the surgery in less than an hour.

At the same time my mother had the same pain in the same area while she was at work and could not make sense of it until she realized it was me who was in pain and not her.

That day I learnt that the moment the umblical cord is cut between mother and child is not at birth but years later when one of them passes away.

I found out that day that saying I love you to mom is not enough and never will be.

On January 28th,2009 I learned that My Daddy is not immortal.

When daddy was taken into hospital suffering from a heart attack at the age of 55, I discovered what a lump in the throat means.

You see,when your roots are suffocated, you automatically are too.

I remember walking into the ICU, Where he was awake and smiling and joking with the nurses. I remember the heart monitor peeping. I remember his hand holding mine,reassuring me that he is alright.

Those hands that held me, soothed me and slapped me playfully sometimes, I took them in mine, canula and all and began subconsciously examining them, memorizing them.

I let him reassure me and joke with me.

I laughed out loud so that my tears won’t escape.

And my first ever moment of regret came,one of many more to come.

I regretted rolling my eyes at him.

I regretted disrespecting him deep inside me when he would not let me have my way.

I regretted going out with my friends on his days off when I knew that it won’t be a day off for him unless I was with him.

I regretted hating his protectiveness.

I regretted upsetting him and breaking his heart when I was unhappy or heartbroken.

I now remember dad’s hands ,every detail of them. I also remember his face and the light in his eyes.

I remember his scent, his movements, his touch on my hands and him taking me into his arms when I am nearly as tall as he is.

One thing I don’t regret.

Is my prayer to God that night in January.

I crept into my bed and cried myself to sleep praying to God one prayer.

“I know it is against your rules but please, just please, keep my daddy for me, I know you don’t do that”
“but please, Make Daddy immortal, would you?”

I know God won’t and I dread the day, for that day will witness my loss of faith.

Not in God, Not in Islam but in the fact that all kinds of pain will fade away with time.

Some pain does stay, the pain of letting go of your roots.

And standing on your own.

Here is the thing, I can’t stand on my own, I am still daddy’s little girl and I can’t live without my daddy.

Shoot me, soothe me or disagree with me.

But I can’t grow up this much,

No one does and no one should.

An Ode to Hope

I apologize for the inconvenience I am about to bring you.

But this is not about you.

It is about me.

I am getting back on track.

I admit it.

I am loving it.

I love the creativeness, the flow of things I have always loved about myself.

I love the fact that I have come to see things as they truly are and should be.

But I have reached the end of my Rope.

I have no hope anymore.

I had hoped you would change.

That you would come to realize how much I mean to you.

That I would be the one to move on and that you would strive to reach me before it is too late.

But you are too smart for that.

You choose your moments.

You know exactly my weak points.

And then you go for them.

And my hope gets the best of me all over again.

They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world. Someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.

Well,

I have found my calling at last.

I know how hard it is going to be,

But I am going for it.

I have something to do.

I have more than one person to love and be loved by.

But I have to come out and say it.

You have taken my something to hope for.

And instead of my series of apologies. I will thank you.

For teaching me that living only on hope is a last solution.

And I still have many options other than hope.

After all, the best is not yet to come.

The best is yet for me to bring.

And believe me, I will bring it.

For you should never mess with someone who has no hope.

And dear Hope ,go bite the dust.

You never brought anything anyway

i missed this

I am back people....new posts coming up very soon:-)

When you are sorry for being sorry

I am sorry for the way things went...for the what I said

for what I have done.

for being the friend when I should have been the lover.

for being the lover when I should have been the friend.

for being upset when u I should not have been.

for not being upset when I clearly should have.

for crying in your arms when I should have walked away.

for loving you when I should have left.

for allowing strike one,two,three and four.

for allowing you to fail in front of my eyes.

for respecting and honoring things you never honored.

for having faith.

for having hope.

for dreaming.

I apologize for words said,emotions conveyed, and intimacies created.

I am sorry for sticking up for you when I should have turned away.

I apologize for what I was and for what I became.

I apologize for every touch,smile and heartflutter.

I apologize for the secrets I kept for you

I apologize for being the safe haven,your shelter from the storms.

I apologize for braving storms for you even when I was as fragile as a tiny twig.

I apologize for me being me and you being you.

I am sorry for being sorry for someone you should never be sorry for.

I apologize and I rest my case.A lost one.My very first losing case.

I am sorry but I will stop apologizing.

sorry

Alone In crowds

am psychic..so when I saw a dream one night that was enacted down to its smallest detail the very next day...I had to freak out.

and when I freak out I do what I have been doing since forever.I run away to my grandmother's grave.Every one around me including my parents does not get what is with me and graveyards.I find it peaceful and soothing.

I ran away to my grandmother's grave today.

when I was there I ran into a distant relative of her who is at least 95 years old. she's a sweet old lady who approached me while visiting another grave in the yard (it's a BIG family).

the ironic thing was that she approached me because she thought I was grandma.

It took me almost 40 minutes to explain that my nana had died 11 years ago and that I was the granddaughter.

by that time she was giving orders to the driver to take us to the" house".though I don't think it counts as kidnapping. I called my mother who confirmed that this lady is actually a relative. and mum wished my luck. she actually said "it's exactly what you need."

anyways...I blab too much...hang in there.

every worry faded away when I saw the "house". it's that old house in the middle of "sayda zeinab".the street is an unbelievably crowded street with mobile phone outlets and everything. then I walked in holding her hand and I swear that my heart stood still for a second.I was here before,was I?I saw old times. I saw lives evolving. I saw hearts breaking and mending.people born and people gone. I saw my grandmother being wed to my grandfather almost 70 years ago.

I saw happiness and sadness and I saw life in its purest form.And I was still sad. I was more angry at myself for failing to be grateful for who I am at the age of 23.

Aunt Zahra - as I had learned from Mum - was my grandmother's cousin and best friend growing up.they had both been married at the same month. but then Aunt Zahra had traveled somewhere with the husband and they only reconnected in the final five years before my grandmother's death.

between the beautiful smells of cloves and cinnamon and the hard wood floors that smelt of old time and memories. she brought me the gift of a lifetime.she gave me a root to my existance.Amidst decaying yellow pictures.I saw that she wasn't an aging old woman after all.I look exactly like my grandmother , we even both have the same sense of humor - according to zahra-.

I sat and listened and couldn't believe it. she knew,she knew I would have a hard life and she died feeling helpless for she would never protect me.

Aunt zahra said that my grandmother knew the first time that she held me that I was psychic for she was too. she saw that I would suffer many heartbreaks and disappointments. That I would always "be alone in crowds".

in the middle of all the pictures I saw a picture of myself as a one day old baby.on the back grandma wrote in english "see zahra,ma belle radwa ,her sweetness,what I feared came true and and she's more sweet then I had hoped for."

aunt zahra refused willingly to explain..she put her hands on mine and said "you have her strength and her smile,what else could you need? you would never sleep tight until you accept who you are.why the urge to change?"

four hours later I left..went home and regretted every single minute I lost.I regretted every Gut feeling that I ignored.I regretted every sign I saw. Every card I read and pretended I didn't know. every dream I had.every tear I shed. every smile I wasted.

I regretted the fact that grandma is right.I am alone in crowds.

daddy broke his little girl's heart

worst day ever (so bad i wont even bitch about it)

do u know when u feel a certain thing about a certain someone and feel a very close bond but then u feel life is sucked out of u because of the smallest thing that this person does and cant help but feel frustrated and angry and hurt even though u dont want to.

this is what am feeling now, i met someone that i knew would change my life even without being a part of it.... but that person did a little thing that i know was their right and it hurt me a little,that person didnt break my heart,i broke it myself when i allowed my stupid pride to be affected,so what? fuck pride,right? no really FUCK IT.

my mind says pride is not always an issue,but mine hurts now like a little girl who did nothing and still got a little slap on the hand from her daddy who thought she stole the cookies from the jar,he slaps her coz he had a bad day in the office and deep down he knows that it probably wasnt her and that cookies arent a big deal but daddy still broke his little girl's heart..hell,am i making any sense?

mmmm,ah,well,i handled it pretty well,i think:-(

so what? how many of us can honestly say they will be all casual and cool and uninterested and swave when they see their very first love? i wont pretend that for a sec because am not. i was terribly shaken to the core when i hard his voice regardless of all the drama and the trauma and the shit, i guess feeling dont die,they are just swept under the rug and heyyyyyy....... i did ask him not to call again and i refused to see him.i ate chocolate today for the very first time in a month,i deserve the little treat,i did very good for a 22 year old single egyptian woman,thank u very much

over and out