Monday, April 21, 2014

The Push from Above

I am amazed at how unfair people can be. How selfish! How power thirsty!
I wonder why. And I wonder why it should happen to me.
I feel very helpless. Yet I want to focus on my blessings. I want to focus on my path. I want to trust the divine and just surrender.
I find it all very hard.
Tonight, I pray. For all who are in distress beyond their means. And for me.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Food Adventures of the Day


The barista spelled my name correctly!

Organic homegrown mint

Chez M

Favorite munch of the season



Friday, April 18, 2014

The Nomad Within

She took the highway going south, the radio tuned on a country music station. She was listening absentmindedly, holding on to her dream of the night that passed.  A new idea. A new dream.
A new hope. The constant disappointment...
She found her grip tighter on the steering wheel. Her jaws pressing. Ahh she sighed, letting loose a little.
She pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror: the conduit to self obsession. Long hair. Large earrings. Tired eyes.
She wrapped her fingers around the wheel again. Took a deep breath. Looked out into the horizon, going south.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Feeling Like An Immigrant Again

I feel like an immigrant again. It's an early foggy morning with the dawn just ahead of us. I'm en route to the airport for a day trip. I know my way around. I know the roads. I know the distances. I know the language, the jargon, the jokes, the greetings. Even where i can get tea in each terminal. I know the business I'm going to conduct in a few hours. Yet, I feel like an immigrant.
The pain of departing my homeland almost fourteen years ago so vivid in my heart. The joy of seeing M again after a long separation overwhelmed the pain.  I remember the fog in the air the first day I landed in Toronto. The light of the fading sun; the smell of new kinds of pastries; the smooth drive to an apartment that was to be my home for the next six years; the anxiety to reach a long distance phone and call home.
I miss my mother.
I wonder what if A also packs his bags one day and fly far far away paying me visits just over phone just once in a while. 
I wonder how parents endure. What a sacrifice!
I will be back home tonight enshala. Possibly past m's bedtime. I wonder what she feels about her day.  Will she miss me? I will be back enshala and I will hold her when she wakes around midnight and I will nurse her and I will caress her fluffy hair.
I feel like an immigrant again and I hope to burry this feeling within me so my kids don't have to experience it, ever.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Fragrance of Molana

It was a beautiful evening spent with Esen Chelebi, 23rd generation of our beloved Molana.  She was full of grace with a smile that was sweet and welcoming. Her presence was love. It was such an easy presence.
I would have never imagined being so close to a defendant of our Pir, Hazrate Molana. Such a blessing!

About Me

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An emigrant from an ancient civilization to North America, an engineer in marketing and management, a mom of working kind, who thinks when she talks, and who likes to write. I, L.B., own the copyright to the content.