Never had a bucket list
And won’t have it now at all
Life speeds and goes its’ way
Can’t stop happenings after all
Failures dog my footsteps
And the rate of success too low
Why give myself a heartache
And make a list to show
What’s the 11th item on your bucket list?
I am sitting in my late husband’s village and looking after the renovation of my village home. There is no internet. I was hopeful that the village property which is worth quite a lot will sell. The person who was initially interested led me to assume that he will pay me in time. He was going to pay me less than half of what it’s worth. Now he told me that he will pay me half the money and the rest after six months. In return he wanted me to hand over the front plot of land which is commercial area and is of greater value.
I didn’t try to contact other buyers, and now it will be a wise decision to wait till I return to my homeland. But now I am in a fix as how to have a roof over my head in my adopted land. Thanks to a devious buyer!
I will be posting when I come back to Peshawar and look up what other bloggers are posting.
Trying to swim through the sea of life
It’s tiring indeed
But if I don’t swim what will happen
I will sink to the bottom for the fishes to feed
I don’t know whether I will reach the distant shore
Or become a memory in a log to read
Sink or Swim
Tell us about a time when you were left on your own, to fend for yourself in an overwhelming situation — on the job, at home, at school. What was the outcome?
At the moment, my memory is in shambles. I am stressed at the choices I have to make –stay in Houston, or move to Virginia. The home I liked my son dithered on it to make a bid on my behalf. I could visulize myself there, planning fruit trees to be planted and a vegetable garden. Alas it’s not to be.
The one still available on the market is in a terrible state of disrepair. My son S wants me to make up my mind over it. It has got all the three good schools— elementary, middle and high, and S thinks if I needed to sell it at a later stage it’s a plus point. I don’t like it at all. It’s big for me — all I want is a two bedroom house and that’s it. S says I can work on it one room at a time. I don’t like the work it entails and my heart feels heavy at the choices I need to take.
Tell us about a time when you had to choose between two options, and you picked the unpopular choice.
No more fashion statements for me. There was a time when I used to follow the trend, but I grew wise — and that comes with age. I got appalled at the wastage of money, and stopped caring what anyone else wore.
It doesn’t mean I stopped caring what I wore. I wear what looks good on me — a few clothes, but good ones.
A few years back shirts hit the floor. I am writing about the trend in Peshawar. Everyone wore floor length shirts (I must have looked terribly out of place), I remained an exception. Nowadays shirts have gone up quite a bit above the knees. I am not bothered. My shirts remain the same.
Ah, sweet youth. No matter whether you grew up sporting a fedora, penny loafers, poodle skirts, bell-bottoms, leg-warmers, skinny jeans, Madonna-inspired net shirts and rosaries, goth garb, a spikey mohawk, or even a wave that would put the Bieber to shame, you made a fashion statement, unique to you. Describe your favorite fashions from days of yore or current trends you think are stylin’.
Hours and minutes race by
I want them to slow
I am sitting with my problems
Here and now
Thinking over them, trying to find solutions
Round and round everything go
My head and heart ache with the effort
Hoping they will solve themselves somehow
Write Here, Write Now
Write a post entirely in the present tense.
At the stroke of midnight
Where else I could have been
Lay dreaming in my bed
Peaceful and serene
I realized on the first of new year
Gone was the last day of the year
True appreciation comes
When you leave for far off lands
I am glad to be home — I love it here
Jan 1, 2016
Stroke of Midnight
Where were you last night at midnight? Would you have wanted to be somewhere else?