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feeling good ..

Its Friday today. It was last Friday that my throat started hurting. It is exactly eight days since.  My doctors visit, antibiotics, headaches, body aches, hacking cough blocked sinuses, hearing impaired, soups and crackers for meals. Breads, grains, cheerios making me nauseous, losing seven pounds of body weight – I went through all this in these eight days.  Today was the last day of the antibiotics. I feel slightly better and hope to regain some strength gradually.  I take a reclining position in front of my computer and this is how I keep myself  connected to the outside world.

I have never been a fan of television but during this time I thought I would ride through my sickness days watching TV. But Gave up on the first attempt. My hearing limitations made me raise the volume so high the whole house seemed to be vibrating –  so I was told .. well may be it was a bit of an exaggeration but still, I honestly would never inflict such misery on any one. I have zero tolerance for people talking loudly, or just making din out of nothing.  I remember when in August my brother in law was visiting us, these two brothers would talk incessantly- nonstop – without any comma, semi colon or full stop to take a breath. Oh my!!

At home, I had many escape routs but when going out, three of us cooped up in the car, this non stop talking was too much for me. Finally my son got me some earplugs, and oh what bliss!. I would go sit in the back seat, , a cushion at my  back, a cushion in my lap and my kindle resting on it, I would be in the same car cabin for two hours and know nothing about what was going on. Hallelujah!

My children are the best. Very loving very caring. But when their mama is sick they become angels. One of them is married so he has his family commitments. And the second one of them? I always say that every mother should have one like him. He is a Virgo and I am Sagittarius. I read somewhere that these two Zodiac signs  are special and understand each other well . Well I read this just recently but I have known this for ages that he keeps a watchful eye on my happiness, my well being and so much more.  He is the one who stayed the nights with me in the hospital way back in 2009 when I had to have a major surgery. I don’t know what my baby went through sitting by his – still under the influence of anesthesia – mother’s side , all by himself  but I still remember his routine  he kept during those days and nights. And at night, he would sleep on a recliner and on the first stirring or sound from me, he would jump to his feet and ask me

” what is it mama? you need something? Are you comfortable?”

And the nurses coming in, going out all night, checking this noting that and my baby not getting any sleep. Someone would come around eleven in the morning to relieve him. He would go home take a shower and off to his office.

Is it that the people who did something good get rewarded so good. I am sure I did something exceptionally good

But he is a little bossy too which I absolutely love.  For example:

“I told you to take Guafaneficine “( sorry, I am not sure about the spellings)

‘yes you did but the tablets were blue, so blue, they would have made me look blue.( he ignored my attempt at being cute)

“No they wouldn’t have made you look blue. On the first sign of any sniffles, always start taking those tablets. This would protect you from all this misery.”

“Okay, okay. Next time I will remember that.”  I try to assure him how cooperative I am.

Today he was talking to me from his office.

“How are you feeling mama.”

“feeling alright. Took last dose of antibiotics.”

“yeah good. In a couple more days you will be feeling fine.”

“yes. I hope so.”

then he ordered his mama to go out and sit in the sun for good half an hour

But I have light skin color, ten minutes should be fine for me. I tried to wiggle out of this

“No no, just go, ammi.  Sit in the sun. Its good for you.”

Didn’t I say they think I am their younger sister!!

I love that 🙂

Thanks for listening my friends. I feeling good already!.

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some more floats …

That was last night.  Now is to-day.

I was feeling  – actually I was beyond feeling anything and still I managed a few lines to talk about the historic event. The last thing that I vaguely remember I thought was Mahir Ali and his column in Dawn on Wednesdays. I remember his column he wrote when Bush won the second term. But that was Bush and this  is Obama. And if he chose to write about this President and his winning the second term, I would certainly want to read that. I love the way he writes.

I am feeling – yes I can feel – better today. The worst is over.

I haven’t made any search effort though because every time  I try to get up and do something my energy level raises a finger and I meekly go back to rest. Where am I going to get any energy if all I am eating is soup, black tea and a slice of toasted bread. Problem is that even this is hard to eat and keep it down.  Enough. Talk about something else.

I am not on fb anymore. This is a statement I didn’t need to issue nor I am supposed to do any explaining. Some things just happen; and it is good that they happen. I hope people are happy and they would let other people be happy too.

Islamic new year is about to start. Mah e Muharram! The first month of the year. It breaks my heart every time I think of all the people who laid down their lives one scorching hot summer afternoon. This was Prophet Muhammad’s family and friends. Just seventy two brave, honorable faithfuls. So we would commemorate their martyrdom – And who I would mourn more? the martyrs or the respected ladies of the house who were made prisoners and were walked without any veil, barefoot, all the way to Sryia.

I think of these days like taking a refreshers course in – what ‘commitment’ means.

Yes. Commitment.

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election 2012

Hurray !

President Obama re-elected!!

We have won.

Our family was sitting in the living room, watching the results. I am sick quite sick and with my pillow and a blanket, was lying on the sofa. How could I not be there to receive the results. Every now and then I would come out of the fog and ask for the results or seeing both the candidates going neck to neck, I would want the family to reassure me. Once satisfied I would again disappear somewhere in that fog.  Then there was  a loud “Aha! we won, we won!” My family was ecstatic. I opened my eyes and was rewarded with the happy news.

Yes. We have won.

I am still sick but at lease the anxiety is gone.

Now I am sure I’ll get better soon.

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memories, like flowers …

I am thinking about Wah again.

It is a feeling, a sensation, a fragrance that follows me around.  It happens once or twice – every year.   Suddenly I would feel transported to a place called Wah.  For days after that I live in a parallel world that once was.

Wah – my beautiful city where I spent most of my formative years.

Wah in Urdu – means Wow, amazing, wonderful, lovely… it means all of it  put together and more.  To me it also means waking up on beautiful mornings listening to the birds chirping in my mother’s fruit trees. Or coming home after school in the afternoon feeling the cool air on my neck and listening to the rustling sounds of tall slim and handsome poplar trees. And it most definitely means the whole family gathered around the table for the evening cup of tea and spending quality time in each others’ company. Yes, I am thinking about Wah.

In “Tuzk i Jahangiri” –  the chronicles of Mughal Emperor Jahangir –  it is noted that once the Emperor was coming back from Kashmir; it was getting late and the army was tired. They decided to look for a place to put up their tents for the night. A few soldiers were sent on to look for a nice and safe place and report back to the Emperor.  In their search, the soldiers discovered a place, all green with lush grass and covered with wildflowers … a valley surrounded by mountains. The soldiers reported back and gave this news.  The first word that the Emperor uttered when he reached the place was WAH!!

So this place became Wah for eternity.

Wah had all four seasons. Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer, all so unique and distinct. All of them so beautiful in their own ways.  Sizzling hot summers and then the first rains of Monsoon. Fall and forlorn, naked trees. Then winter and howling winds or rain silently falling on the roof, or a thunderstorm like no other with such force and ferocity. Foggy mornings and hard freezes crunching under the feet. And then Spring – the glorious spring. when the whole city would be wrought with all shades and shapes and kinds of flowers. The air so clean, so fresh and fragrant. One had to be there to experience the magical Spring!

I remember waking up in the mornings and tip-toeing barefoot on the wet, lush green grass, towards the flower beds to see and smell the beauty.  Have you ever smelled the sweet peas? Seen the variety of colors they have?  My mother and our gardener Zarin Khan always discussed and planned before planting the saplings. The neat and disciplined person that my mother was, Zarin Khan would never do anything in the garden without consulting her. It was amusing the way he would come to the back veranda and sit on the stairs, waiting for mother. Meanwhile Rehmat Bi would bring tea and something to eat for him. Then mother would come out holding her cup of tea and sit down on the takht (a kind of a settee) and talk about flowers, seasonal vegetables and if any tree or the hedges around the front and back yards needed trimming, cutting or pruning. The seriousness on their faces was priceless.

My favorite place in our back yard was between the two rows of sweet pea flower beds. Just lying there and watching the sky was soothing.  Zarin Khan never liked this. The first time he gave me a warning –  “Kho tum achha nain karti. Begum saab hum pe bigarta he!” – “This is not good- the mistress will be very angry!” He’d let me go but the next time he caught me, he complained to mother. I will not say what happened next but I knew I was at fault after all! But this doesn’t mean that I stopped visiting!

Here in Florida, every time I went to a nursery to buy some plants, I would check the seeds racks. In Spring when buying annuals, I would look for sweet pea saplings. It was only this Summer that I happened to see the pea seeds. I thought, once the frost was out of the way, we would plant the seeds. But one afternoon, my dear other half happily broke the news that he had planted the seeds while I was taking my afternoon nap. I was a little apprehensive but they survived the hard freeze!

When they were a feet and a half high, I started looking for the buds. Yesterday I spotted some. They will be blooming by the end of this month. I hope and pray they have the same sweet fragrance.

I love Petunias and Marigolds too. Actually it’s the yellow color of Marigolds and the purple of Petunias that make me happy and feel alive. Have you seen a purple colored sweet pea flower? It’s a beauty!  But, here the tampering has perfected the beauty of flowers and fruit, but robbed them of fragrance, and even the taste in the fruits’ case. My purple petunias have no fragrance, they are just pretty. I hope its different with the sweet peas.

Narcissus, sweet peas, marigolds and petunias are a few of my favorite flowers.  Yellow of  marigold and purple in petunias and sweet peas; I absolutely love them.

And I love the timeless times where memories reside.

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suspended

Happy is the moment

When we sit together

With two forms, two faces, yet

One soul

You and I

(Rumi)

We have an unannounced guest. He comes and goes whenever he likes. I am using a male gender, though I am not sure if it’s a he or a she but one thing I am certain about is – it’s a pigeon! A beautiful – all white pigeon. One day I saw it sitting on my window-sill, and on this window-sill he reappears again and again. If it is too windy, then he would seek shelter in the corner of a back door where the wall is jutting out a little. I’ll post the picture on my wall.

We have installed a bird feeder and a bath for him. He can enjoy our hospitality for as long as he wishes to.

On my last visit, when he had done his part and had written in my file whatever the doctors write in their patient files, he was ready to go out but I wanted to talk to him about something that was bothering me a whole lot. So I told him I wanted to talk to him in private. Looking at me he told the nurse to leave the room. Then pulled a chair close to me, took my hands in both his hands and waited for me to speak. He listened with his eyes fixed on my face. I told him.

I finished and a smile broke out on his face. ‘You are worried about this? Don’t. This is normal. But if you want I can do something about it. Do you want me to?  I lowered my head and thought for a moment and then looked up at him again. No.  He patted my hands, looked deep into my eyes where there was a prickling sensation testing my hold. He didn’t say anything. Then pushing his chair back, he stood up, holding my shoulders, pulling me also up on my feet. “You are a brave girl” he said solemnly and hugged me – a tender, caring affectionate hug. I felt like a little girl lost.

He went out and the nurse came in.

There is a lot I like about Americans. They are no-nonsense people. Know their worth. Respect themselves, and do not think themselves any less than the guy next in line. They are straight forward and out spoken. I like that. Very much!!

I am a Sagittarius and I share most of these qualities. Check my star – Dec. 2.

I hate double standards and I would bluntly point out the mistake, the wrong doing, Injustice and treating someone badly. Though, being straight forward and blunt lands me in trouble most of the time. But it is not a Sagittarius if not a stickler for truth. We love independence. unnecessary restrictions make me claustrophobic. I am a free spirit that does not hedge around,  likes to say what she wants to say and regret later. That is me. –yes; certainly me. I pity those who when facing trouble, try to pile the blame on others.

I took some time off. Was something bothering me? I guess, yes. It was like some one had stolen my identity. There was this awareness lurking in my mind that something was not right. People just don’t fly off the handle without any reason.

Language mistakes bother me a whole lot too but that has never given me homicidal thoughts or sent me on a lynching spree.

I am cool. No need to fret.  But one suggestion though. Watch ET – the movie and learn compassion, friendship and something more.

Read something that is making me sit up straight. “What would you rather leave when you are gone – an empty inbox or a masterpiece that touches the lives of people you will never meet.”

I am thinking.

N.H.Q from Lahore: “thank you – actually I just wanted to explain that this phase comes in every good writer’s career, when for others he / she becomes above the judgment level. Readers simply enjoy reading their creations.”

Mahir Ali emailed. He was concerned about my disappearance. I am so sorry Mahir Ali. I know I should have told you before the hiatus.

Mehreen emailed ” where are you buddy? my days don’t shine if I don’t see you first thing in the morning”  Oh my! this is a big responsibility Mehreen. Do not burden me. I am fragile 🙂

Thought about Nigel Pearson and his Morning Flight today while listening to Roberta Flack’s “Killing me softly with his words”

Smokey, my Siamese cat and I used to have the house to ourselves before the house boy appeared for the day’s work.  Smokey loved music; sitting across me in a patch of sun, licking his paw or just looking at me with those deep blue eyes. But the moment music stopped, he would sit up and look at the music center twitching his ears. He was funny. Once I requested a song for Smokey. He took that very seriously. Smokey had many songs dedicated to him after that. My family at school and office, I used to feel very lonely. Smokey was my ‘buddy’ who kept me company, trailing behind me where ever I would go in the house. It was hard to decide who needed who more. It was not easy to find a good home for him before coming here. Poor baby! poor me!

Last word:

Shad Azeem Abadi and Abida Parveen – what better combination?

Mein hairat o hasrat ka mara, khamosh kharra hon saahil per

Dariyaey mohabat kehta he aa kuchh bhi nahin paayaab hein hum.

October,5,2012

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turkish dream

meri sochti aankhein.
Some nights they refuse to co-operate. Last night again saw me thinking and not wanting to think.  Some memories have a mind of their own – a relentless, sadistic, stubborn kind of mind that would only let go of its grip when itself ready to let go.
I got up , went to the living room, pulled the verticals a little to the side. Turned the recliner around and sat there facing the night. The Moon was shining over the lake and there was a shimmering silver path reflecting on the dark water – Turkish Dream – that is what it is.
Has anyone seen the Moon shining over the Bosphorus – the Strait in Turkey? Sitting on the hotel balcony, I thought it was the most beautiful and mysterious experience. That night the Strait was bathing in the heavenly light, like a surreal dream.  There were two small boats and a barge, en- rout to their destinations and a restless tourist on the hotel balcony.
Murad’s family had invited us to an afternoon tea at their beautiful house on the Bosphorus. There were about thirty people invited to meet us. A lively group of friends and family. There, two ladies had an interesting discussion about a name – Jahid or Mujahid. They both were adamant that only her name was grammatically correct. One of the ladies was Turkish and the other was an Arab. It was interesting and for some obscure reason it would not vacate my mind for other thoughts to come in an register. So, a glass of water in hand, I stepped out on the balcony and watched the night. On the other side – the Eastern part – tiny specks of light were twinkling. On my left, the famous Hanging Bridge was busy with non stop speeding traffic. No sound; just blazing lights! I sat there a long time . Not thinking about the day trip we were taking in the morning.
I never look at time whenever I have difficulty falling asleep. Keeping tabs on time makes one anxious unnecessarily. At some point I got up, pulled the verticals in place, returned the recliner back to its place and went in my room.
Sleep was a ‘rahmat’ that slowly came.

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i rise

I rise

Like a morning Sun

I slowly rise

Thinking thoughts and picking up vibes

Contemplating,

the Universal Silence.

Hanging around

A tiny hope,

tingling on the edge of air.

Then moments separate

Spreading voices,

far and wide.

In a web of rays, I see

my dreams floating away.

Oh stop, come back –

I fish I catch, I grope

I fall –

fall hurtling down, down and down

to unknown depths.

Then slowly I rise

Like a morning Sun

For another day

For a tiny hope

tingling on the edge of air

Oct. 3,2012

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love bugs

I was out all day – almost.

My other half  had some work, work that Realtors do and he wanted me to tag along. The bait was:

” I will buy you lunch”

which I took because  kitchen and I are not the best of buddies.  But a lady is not supposed to jump at the first offer so I said I want to stay light because children are planning dinner for tonight (our wedding anniversary). He promised he would buy me my fave, vegetable sub.  There was no further excuse or  resistance 🙂

In Florida, Love Bug season has started. Don’t ask me  what they are. I shan’t be able to explain. They are just some pesky bugs that  love each other “till the death do the pair  part”  and when their season starts, they are everywhere. They are enemy # 1 of cars. These intoxicated with love, bugs hit the car full speed and lo and behold, poor dears are just a brown spot on the front of the car, all over ( there, I acquainted them to you. Please don’t mourn their death, they are not worth your tears ) and if you don’t take care to clean the gunk right away, you will pay to clean the wind screen and the rest of the body, dearly.

The place we went is a newly developed housing community. The moment I stepped out of the car, I was assaulted by love bugs relentlessly. In my hair, on my face, sticking on to my clothes. Two of them even came and sat on my chin. Perverts! They were everywhere.

The day was beautiful. A beautiful blue sky and tufts of white clouds floating in this lofty vastness and I felt a little lost, which I was since morning. Please don’t do this to me, I said to no one or maybe to One, who is always listening.

On our way home I read my poem to him that I had written the night  news came on about the innocent Afghan civilians,  massacred in the middle of the night when they were sound asleep; women and children! A boy escaped, somehow. We both were quiet for a few miles after I had finished reading it. Maybe it was not the right ending note for being out to-gather but ….

I will post this poem soon, for you.

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migraines

I had a Migraine headache and now I cannot account for two days. They are lost in the fog. Forever.

Migraines  are so debilitating! Even after the vision has cleared and you can let light come in the room, even when you can raise your head from your pillow and have a peak around from under your eye pads, your status still amounts to “invalid”  Because there is still pain around the eyes and they are still sensitive to the light. Your forehead, facial muscles, teeth even – they all hurt and throb. There is nothing you can do except recline on a pillow and try to convince yourself that everything is fine and under control. But is it? really, is it?

You cannot read neither can write. Cannot watch TV nor can you surf the net. Facebook? no. Chat a bit? no

Drawing or painting for relaxing your nerves? oh no, not even that. Heck, you cannot even go bake a cake or make your family fave Vegetable Lasagna because doing all these wonderful, everyday things, you need a happy, healthy pair of eyes.

So what do people do when a migraine headache strikes? I want to know. Really want to know.

When there is no compulsion, I can sit motionless and let my mind drift. Or go out to admire the front yard, after the handyman has cut the grass and a nice cut grass smell is hanging in the air. Watching the bees making circles around the flowers in search of nectar. A lone butterfly flitting in the bushes. Or, some white Heron standing in the lake on one leg, with neck tucked under the wing and yet aware of fish breaking the  lake’s surface and  catching it in one swift motion.

Life is so beautiful and these are just a few of its gifts. Eyes being the most precious of all. I wish you never get a migraine headache!

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sleepless in …

I had a sleepless night again last night.
I have noticed that every other week or sometimes more, I most certainly will spend a night tossing and turning and not finding any comfort; no matter how many times I would pat or plump my pillow, or go check the thermostat for a comfortable  temp. , speed check the over head fan … nothing would work in my favor. I have tried facial exercises.  They do work but not always. I have tried prayer beads, repeating any of the 99 names of the Divine Being. This also worked but only a few times. A friend recommended to do astaghfar tasbih. I spent almost the whole night  doing astaghfar. Nothing …. Sometimes I put my wrists under running cold water and when I start shivering, I go back to my bed  again. This works but not always.
My dearest husband once bought a special blanket for me. It had very sedate, prim and proper white sheep printed all over the blue background, probably sitting ‘on’ a clear sky, without any clouds 🙂  “Why not a green background? shouldn’t they be sitting on a grassy land!” I asked. He sighed. “Ah, this is the problem. You are so analytical, hujati –  a more suitable word!”
Well, till then I had thought that being analytical was good!
Last night I didn’t do any of the mentioned mantras to make myself fall asleep. I just closed my eyes and let the mind drift. No resenting, no self pity and no envy that husband dearest is snoring the night away while his poor wife is lying awake with a mind alert as a choukidaar’s, who roaming the streets, shouts every now and then … jaagte raho … I wonder if they still do these rounds, now that people have taken law and order in their own hands and feel more safe with guns and ammunition in their homes.
So what was it that made me insomniac. I have no clue. I usually stay awake till the wee hours of the night and let the mind roam around if it so wishes, just letting thoughts, memories drift in and out.
At one point, I remembered how sad I was when the news about Whitney’s death, came. I thought of Nigel  and wondered where was he now? and doing what? How did he take this news.  He used to host a music hour on the radio. He knew how much I loved Whitney and most mornings he would start his hour, playing one of her songs. ” saving all my love” most of all. But being a bashful British gentleman, he would never repeat any of the verses 🙂
I was smiling, thinking about that when I heard the house making a creaking sound. It usually happens when the house is settling down for the night. I first became aware of these sounds, way back in 1985 when we rented a house in Woking, UK for a month. I got so scared that I ran to my children’s room to see if they were alright, then checked the whole house. I called my brother in Kingston in the morning and mentioned this. He laughed and reassured me.
My husband came here (USA) to ‘look around and I stayed back in that house with our children. That was quite an interesting one month in that house. I got used to those creaking sounds. Anyways this is another story for another time. Back to my insomnia.
I heard a loud bleep and got out of bed to investigate. Looked in the girl’s room. They were sound asleep and everything was fine and quiet. This was my hubby’s new cell phone receiving an email, I found out later.
Finally I got out of bed and sat in the family room, going through my old photo albums when we were a young family and were roaming around the Globe every Summer when children’s schools closed for Summer Break. I laughed a little, reminisced a little then YAWNED!
It was not so bad after all, even though I slept only under four hours. But not to worry, I know I can make up the lost time 🙂
P.S. Well, I want to clear something. I was being mean when I mentioned ‘snoring’.  This only happens if he had a stressful day otherwise he sleeps like a ‘nafs i mutmainah’
Sorry, I have no translation for this.