Imaginary friends

Z's imaginary friend is called 'babyr baba' and sometimes she talks to him on the phone (possibly because she grew up watching the women around her talk to their baby's baba on the phone). He's a doctor (coincidentally, so is her dad!) and works at a hospital. He also lives in London (possibly sourced from her great uncle and aunty's visit from London). Today, she told me he has no nose. And that he's a fish. And he has a tail.

We pretended to be lions today. It was Z's idea - I was just being silly and making sounds with my mouth, and she asked me, 'are you a lion?'.
'Yes.'
'me too!'
'I'm a khammi lion.'
'And I'm a baby lion.'

Then it was dogs, turtles, cows and giraffes.

She told me that she remembers my wedding - but the only thing she remembers is that I wore a sari and had a big round thing on my forehead. Then we looked through my wedding photos together, and she got so happy seeing herself in them!

She slept on my bed this afternoon. When she sleeps, she curls up, like I do. She's like me in so many ways. She remembers words, remembers the way they feel. Her imagination is much more vivid though. I can't remember having an imaginary friend that early.

Growing up

Today is my first proper day off after I officially started working. I have done a few things here and there - tutoring, ABA therapy, chucking leaflets at mailboxes - but that was when I got paid in two digits. Getting paid in four digits is a whole different deal. There's contracts to sign and long term future to think about. I have to iron my clothes before I wear them to work, make sure I get in the car early enough to get there on time and all other grown up things that come along with it. But I still feel like the same old L with a messy room and comfort chocolate stash in my drawer.

I am flying off again today! Mr H told me to start a travel blog and I don't think its such a bad idea. There's always new people that we meet and different things we learn, or relearn. I feel like my writing skills have declined though. I want to start writing poetry again but I am not sure how to string the right words together any more. Maybe this is a side effect of becoming an adult?

I realised something today. Irrespective of a two digit or a four digit pay, I always seem to be broke. It has been 8 days since I got paid and I don't seem to have much money left at all. I realised this will always be the case. Even if you earn a six digit salary, you will still feel like its leaving you too fast, because your commitments will increase. This is why I hate the concept of money. We work so hard to increase those numbers in our bank account, but they decrease so, so easily. This is why if you only work for money you would never, ever be happy. I know this is a classic cliche, but yes, I just had that realisation again.

I need to read The Little Prince again.

Remembering

Thoughts

I remember, there was a time when I wished time would go faster because there was nothing that I could do at that moment. There was nothing that I wanted to do, there was nothing I felt motivated for. I binge watched TV shows not to relax, but to have something to do. I wrote pages and pages of excessive and misplaced emotions in diaries that are now crushed into pulps. I talked to people that I shouldn't simply because I was bored. When I think about that now, I feel a deep sense of gratitude coming from within me for where I am now. Alhamdulillah, I have absolutely no free time to kill. I was given the opportunity to go to Hajj this year (which deserves a post of its own), but after I came back, I could see the effects. I could see myself being more confident, solid. Something I haven't felt for a while. I could feel the effects of 'La Hawla Wa La Quwwata Illa Billah' again. And I really, really wish every single person could feel it, or at least, everyone I love. The pain of loneliness, boredom and ingratitude is worse than the pains that pierce you outside while your heart is at rest. 

Clarity

TA can use her words so incredibly well. We only ever talk over whatsapp - in our years of friendship, I can only remember having coffee with her a couple of times. The most amount of face to face time we had was probably during our wedding. Yet, she can somehow tell when I am a little bit under the weather.

Here's a little draft of something else I wrote in light of my convo with TA today:

The world inside my head is blurry.

It used to be clear

Before you walked in.

I had my pen, lined paper

and thoughts.

I had my eyes, two feet

and a cup of coffee.

I formed words easily - 

I could hear them talk

without listening to them.

I could smile with bright eyes

without letting them peak inside.

You ripped me apart,

blurred my vision,

took the words, and,

Began reigning inside my head.

Donkey

I have another assignment due tomorrow night. It's a set of reflective papers, which were, ironically, supposed to be blogged in four hundred words over the span of six weeks. I was consistent for two of the weeks. Currently, I am finishing off the third one. I still have three more to go. This is due tomorrow night. I am screwed. If I did one reading everyday, taking some notes, and writing the pot at the end of the week, it would have taken me an hour a day, maximum. Now it shall be an allnighter. This is for the future you, L, please learn from your mistakes. The awesome thing about being married is that you can go on unreasonable rants and take out all of your stresses on someone else. Mr H is excellent at handling my rants.

Now - caffeine and eyes.

Faking it

I have a knack for burning bridges really fast. Looking back at my life, I have probably burnt more bridges than I sustained, leaving very few people from my past into my current life. Except for my family and a few friends here and there, most people in my current life are new. I am not sure whether this is a good or a bad thing, or neither. I guess it means that I change with the people around me and so I stop relating to people that I previously could, so, we slowly drift. Often times I have consciously cut people off my life - people that I knew will keep having a negative impact on me as time goes by.

What's the first thought on your mind when you wake up?

Here's a very rough draft of something:

We rush through life like a race
Set to start when thinking starts
Must be better, must be faster,
Must ignore our beating hearts.
They tell you how you should proceed
First comes this and then comes that
Must not mess with the order of things
Must not stop for idle chat.
Gather your wealth and use your eggs
Don't put them all in one basket
You are the only one you need, they said,
But they are the ones you must please.

Him.

He makes me feel like a teenager and as if we've been together for a lifetime, all at the same time. Sometime in the past year, he propped himself hard and fast in the best-friend seat, and is refusing to move. He buys me chocolate, makes me laugh, holds me when I cry and pushes me off the bed when I should really be finishing my assignment instead of sleeping. He also thinks I look like Katie Holmes, which is hilarious. Recently, he has fallen in love with the newest member of our family - Z's little sister - which just makes me love him more. Also, he buys me cool things like coffee mugs and wall planners.

Social media

Social media is terrible. When you see smiling faces while you are having a crappy day, you start to think that everyone else is always happy while you are always sad. When your friends are putting up photos of the excellent times they are spending with their significant other, you forget about all the great times that you've had because the only place the photos exist in are your phones. 

Things that are happening

I started my masters! I have an essay due on Monday, so, I should have finished it by now and be in bed fast asleep, but I have not. Have not started writing. And just read through the wiki page for The Shining. And then I read ayatul Qursi to make myself less scared.

Asked T to unscare me over whatsapp and this was her response:
Rainbows lollipops
Sunshine
Man with knife bursting through the doorway
Teddy bear
Hugs and pillows

WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT.

Time to get back to essay.

Z

I wish I could protect her from the world. The dark, smelly, hurtful world that would teach her that she needs to scratch her way to the top. I wish I could let her know that there is no competition for the love of people who mattered - and those who you need to earn the love of but never seem to be able to - they don't matter. I wish I could tell her that she was never inside me, but she was always my first love. She stole a bit of my heart even before she was born, and had been stealing a little more of it every now and then. Now that I am so far away from her - I feel the tug at my heartstring, every now and then, a sharp tug that almost brings tears. She is only a tiny bit over three now, and, I feel like she is already feeling the sharpness of the jagged ends of the world. 

Random thought

Today is one of those days - everything is going right, no one is home and I am alone with my thoughts. Days like this makes you realise that this world is an illusion in its entirety. People that you love fade, things that you have break and words that you say are forgotten. Everyone and everything moves on, and some day, this world will move on without you too. In the grand scheme of things, whether you found the perfect job, or finished a degree, or married the right guy, doesn't matter.

It all comes back to purpose. If things, people and actions serve their purpose, then they weren't a waste.

Nostalgia
Penguins and vampires
India, train, chocolate and poetry
Breakfast at Tiffany's
Alter ego
Primary school
Rain
Friday night rebellion
gchat
Rampura roof
Tea stall at midnight
Failing uni
Art
Crashing into a tree
Dents
Regrets
Circular quay

Bits and pieces of memory pop up and take you by a wave of emotion. 

Nonsensical poetry

This is something silly that I came up with a couple of days ago. I wrote without thinking about what I wrote, or without editing.

Poetry is words that fall off my tongue
Not the words that should be sung
in joy and peace
Rather words that have no other place to go
Words that are used to hearing no.
Poetry is pain from my heart
Not the ones that are turned into art
with colours running everywhere
ending with love and care.
Poetry is blood on my hands
They will never understand
The way maps are drawn with those words
Poetry is sharp like a sword
Poetry is blunt like a knife
And hard like your life
And high like the sky
And free like the tears that you cry.

In other news - my last ever undergrad exam inshaallah is this Thursday! and Ramadan starts this Thursday (give or take a moon)! Masters starts in about 2 weeks!

Its raining now.

Adulthood

I don't like the distinction between an adult and a child, in the way that our society outlines it. When you are an adult, you are supposed to lose the light in your eyes because you see the world more clearly, supposedly. You are supposed to know that money is what makes the world go around and you are not supposed to trust people easily. You are supposed to do a balancing act between your job, family, social life and everything in between, but to 'other' people, you are supposed to seem happy and alright most of the time, if not all the time. Not having some of these is a sign of immaturity. But I hate that concept! 

Reflections

Its important to speak to people in their language. You can be speaking the same language, but essentially, be speaking completely differently, which in fact, is almost as if you're speaking a different language. We did a case study about this once - an Aboriginal woman who was raped was not given her rights by court because she didn't speak the way they did, even though, both parties were speaking in English. She didn't have the same mannerisms, didn't use certain words in certain contexts, etcetera. I think I am beginning to understand that lately. When you speak to someone, you need to observe the way they speak, first, before you speak, in order to increase the chances of them understanding you completely. There are a lot of people in my life right now that I don't know how to do that with, yet. But our whole life is one big learning process, isn't it.

Its also important to recognise the difference between listening to advice and taking it. Everyone has a different situation that they are dealing with, and everyone is at different points in their life. Its important to recognise that some people have gotten bitter through experience, and they will give advice out of their own bitterness. But, yes, life can be bitter sometimes, and sometimes a bit sour, but life can be sweet too. We need to be thankful for the sweet times and be patient through the rest, and be grateful to Allah for His infinite wisdom for laying life out the way it is.

Sometimes, its hard to hear nature above all the clutters of the world. But we have a secret sound within us that we often miss - the sound of breathing. Its the sound that tells us we're living, and it almost sounds like the ocean inside a spiral shell. Sometimes, we just need to stop and hear ourselves breathe.

The mundanes - 2

I think I'm coming down with a flu. I have been coughing those phlegm-y coughs for the past few weeks, but it wasn't until last night that I felt like my entire head and nose area had been blocked off. I thought I was going to die last night, which was pretty scary, because when you think you are going to die, you start to take an account of all the things you've done in your life, and feel unprepared.

But, alhamdulillah, I did wake up this morning. We don't really have anything on today except for a dinner at night, so my plan was to make breakfast, wash some clothes, make tea for myself and immerse myself in stats for the rest of the day. This is the only subject that I'm doing this semester, and this is my 2nd time doing this one, so I really, really, really want to do well. The rotis that I attempted to make turned out terribly (they were fine with it, of course, they're awesome people!) and my tea ended up being cold and runny. Clothes are drying well though.

I started reading my stats notes and realised that nothing is going in and I keep having to use tissues and I began to feel like my eyes are heating up and body is heating up but also feeling too cold. Got another cup of tea with lemon, ginger, honey and all, called my mum and sorted through my notes. Mr H wants to go shopping for a few things he needs but I don't think I can get up at all.

One thing I realised recently - my in laws and my parents are very different in nature. The secret of being happy is to nurture people's nature, and not oppose it. My problem is that I tend to become like the people I am around, which is hard when you have different kinds of people around, because then your mind becomes confused as to which one you should become like. But I think its an advantage for people like me - it forces us to shape our own selves ourselves. 

The good things in life

I'm quite liking my life right now. On Mondays, I teach scripture at a local primary school, tutor and mentor a high school kid and have fiqh classes at night. On Tuesdays, I come to uni for the whole day for two hours of class and a few more hours of working on assignments and extra questions, sometimes catching up with my sister for lunch or so. On Wednesdays, its scripture again at a different primary school. One or two nights a week, I stay with my parents. Every second Friday, I teach 3-4 young kids about Islam while their parents attend their own night lessons. Sundays are busy with teaching and learning as well. I'm tired most nights and cherish the little bit of time that I have to curl up with a book and some chocolate. I cherish my family so much more now that I am away from them, and I try to make sure that I give them quality time when I am over there. I can feel Allah's blessings on me right now, and hope that I can be grateful for it. I remember, for about 8 months or so last year, I did nothing productive regularly and I kept feeling like the least useful person around. It made me realise that it is a blessing to be useful to someone and to be busy doing meaningful things. And that is only possible if one is given the opportunity to, so its something that we should be grateful for.

What I love more, is that Mr H is being quite productive with his life too. We enjoy learning together, and teaching together, now. He encourages me to be better to my family and I hope I do the same. I was supposed to go to Baba's work for something, yesterday. Mr H suggested that I have a coffee with him before my errands, he said that Baba would love it. I felt a bit weird doing it at first, because Baba and I have very similar personalities - slightly awkward around most people, even family, and both of us like our own space and company. Both of us are quite good at teaching, or doing anything that requires talking 'at' a group of people, but we can get quite awkward when its 1-1 interaction in something like a coffee setting, no matter who it is. But, I know that Baba is more awkward than I am, which is why its easier for me to talk to him (lol). Anyway so, I didn't end up going early enough for a coffee, even though I really wanted to, so I made a mental note to do so the next time I need to go into his work.

This morning, I walked straight to the food court after reaching uni, desperately needing a coffee to stay awake - and I see Baba sitting at the food court! My dad - with all his white hair and glasses and that smile - was drinking tea and eating hot chips at the last place I thought I'd see him. He came for an excursion with his students (which he forgot to tell me - another trait I share with him). So, I got to have that coffee date with my father that I wanted to have the day before. And I talked away like I used to when he used to pick me up from school - I talked about my uni work, the burnt chicken and spilt tea from the day before and everything in between. The awesome thing is, I wouldn't do this if Mr H did not suggest it in the first place. 

The mundanes

This morning I woke up, prayed, lazed around a little bit, dreamt about a zombie apocalypse, forgot to iron Mr H's shirt, showered, cleaned room (which took so-o-o long!), stuffed a lot of things in my bag, got dropped off by Mr H's mum to the station, changed some plans, caught the train, met a girl I haven't seen for ages on the train, got a $35 coupon for some health store for free at the station, played 2048 on the bus, got a coffee and came to the library.   

I just took a sip from my small cappuccino with one sugar, bought from the library lawn coffee cart. And nostalgia rushed over me - that feeling of walking in with a coffee cup to study physiology, or that group study for multiple choice final exam for first year psych, the heart racing times from neuroscience and the calming feeling of sorting through thoughts at the library. I love how we associate particular bits of senses with particular memories. The feeling that comes with this paper cup filled with cappuccino is quite comforting.

The other interesting thing I've noticed about this is that the memories that I have before marriage are associated with very different things from memories post-marriage. So, all my crushes meld into one, while Mr H is always different. All my insecurities are on one side and the feeling of security is on the other. Comfort of loneliness is separate from the comfort of being one half of a whole.

Something happened today which made me appreciate the saying that Allah's plans are better than ours. I planned out this whole week early last week, and I thought everything will go according to plan, keeping everyone happy, balancing well, and basically - living the nice, balanced life that I dream of having. But it was a good reminder to myself that nothing will ever go according to our plans if Allah does not will it. Its a good slap in the face for the ego, which seems to think it knows best.

"And never say of anything, 'Indeed, I will do that tomorrow,' except [when adding], “If Allah wills.” And remember your Lord when you forget [it] and say, “Perhaps my Lord will guide me to what is nearer than this to right conduct.” (Quran: Chapter 18, verse 23-24). 

Things I didn't appreciate about my parents while growing up

But should have.

1. They made us think we were poor and we have to answer for every dollar we spent and every resource we use. The concept of not wasting resources is now etched in our minds.

2. They consistently did some things every single day, like praying properly, reading Quran everyday.

3. Our family time was not TV time - it was when we sat together talking about God and our issues with life, once a week.

4. We always had to have dinner together, no matter who was busy doing what. And you could not go to bed without dinner.

How I feel right now

Journeys and belonging, and all that shiz

We went on a coffee date today. He said he notices my face more now. Then I went to a bookshop and picked out two books and asked him whether I can have them as a (very early) birthday present and he said yes. I am trying to return to my state of no (or, low) expectations and learning to appreciate everything and it feels excellent. The trouble with me is, I naturally expect everyone else around me or everyone close to me to be on the same page or at least on board with whatever I am doing. The result is that I either push people away or be disappointed. But that is a terribly unhealthy place to be at. I need to accept that I might be at a different place to everyone else, and I inevitably will be, and I just need to go on with life the way I feel is best. Life is short and no one else will be there with me when I die. Why wait on others?

I got my hen's party scrapbook the other day from NC. I'm pretty sure I've talked about Miffy before - she is an amazing person that I look up to a lot. She doesn't wait on others to get things done or get her off her backside, when she wants to do something, she does it. She didn't go through university and she doesn't let it bother her or interrupt her from advancing through her projects, which is pretty unusual for a girl from a sub-continental background, amongst whom the idea that 'secular studies = success' is ingrained. She has a project called Muslim Life Hackers, which has about 5000 likes on Facebook. So, Miffy said that she was inspired to start because her and I were talking about this blog of mine a long time ago, and when she asked me whether I felt any inhibition putting myself out there on here, running the risk of my personal stuff being read by people from my professional life, apparently I said, "who cares?". To know that those two words inspired her, inspires me. I have become a lot more inhibited lately and I plan to come out of it soon.

I guess the inhibition comes from being in a new kind of environment where everyone else is pretty much inhibited, i.e: being in the adult world. I don't like the terms 'adult' and 'child' separating two worlds though. Why can't I be uninhibited, innocent and creative while moving through the different stages of my life? Why do I have to "grow up" the way society wants me to, and enter my grave in a state of dissatisfaction? Also, how do I know that I will die at eighty or so? What if I die tomorrow? What good would being inhibited do me? Nothing.

I love that Mr. H is supporting me in this journey to become more of the better parts of who I used to be. But, even if he stops at any point, I should still keep going. We are all individuals.

Domesticity

I wrote a few lines of poetry after a very long time, yesterday. I almost forgot that I used to write. I almost can't remember what it was like to not let real life get in the way of myself (not that this is a good thing, but its usually the more attractive option). I was inspired by a friend who also writes.

Cut through me, all the way to my essence.
Spoon out some love from its jar,
Compassion and passion
Pour them into the hole you made.
Do not alarm yourself if a couple of tears and
A few drops of blood and sweat
Drip onto your hands.
They'll tell you
I'm alive.

Most of my poetry have a particular reason behind them, and only I know the reason. For example, I had a fight with my mum and wrote the one that started with 'stuck in a stalemate' about five years ago. I didn't write down the reason behind it anywhere, but I still remembered imageries from the poem. I can't even remember what the fight was about, but I remember the feeling and the pictures that formed in my mind. 

Right now, I am sipping on a tea in front of the fan while writing. The tea packet claims that it 'will have you feeling absolutely peachy. The peachy feeling you get from recharging in the sun while the world is on mute. Except for the radio, which appears to be playing your favourite song'. I'm not listening to the radio right now, but how is the description so perfect? That is exactly how I was feeling when I got the tea and started to write, with the world on mute and all.

Our stove isn't working. The car has a massive scratch, due to me, which is getting rusted right now. The house has ants here and there, not exactly sure why. I still have at least three years to finish studying. The milk and bread went off sometime between two days ago and this morning. There is a pile of clothes to wash, plates and cups to rearrange and furniture to dust.