Tag Archives: blogging

The Last Note

I wish I had it here now with me. It’s in my bed table drawer back home. I got it in May 2010 when we were visiting our children here. At the time my daughter and her family were living in Crozet,VA. We had come to enjoy summer here. 

They are the last words my (late) husband R wrote to me. He wasn’t feeling well when we returned to Peshawar. I urged him to have a checkup. He kept postponing in having it done till Feb 2011, when to our grief and dismay we learnt, he had stomach cancer.

It’s ironic about what he wrote that if he died he would be waiting for me at the other end for he will forever want me to be by his side. At that moment when he handed it to me I took it as a joke. I am thankful now that I didn’t crumple it and threw it in the waste paper basket. 

R never took to a computer. He held on to writing letters by hand. His last writing is more dearer because it’s in his handwriting. I will treasure it always.



When was the last time you wrote something by hand? What was it?


Another Saddam

I have been without a computer for the last two years. I used my iPad instead. My laptop was lying back home. My thinking was, “Why waste and spend money on a new one when the old one still worked?” And I was going back, wasn’t I?

My patience stopped in its tracks the month before last, and I went for the new Surface 3 which cost quite a packet. I love it for its size, and sleek look which is great.

My son on seeing my photo appear remarked, “Mama, you are another Saddam!”

My jaw dropped with surprise and hurt at the comparison with Saddam, and I asked, “Why did you compare me with him?”

“He was erecting statues of himself everywhere, and you are just like him in pasting a photo of yourself”.

“Why not?”, I countered back. It’s lovely to look at if I may say so brazenly, and after all it was my computer. 

“Uh..ah..ah”, replied he, not wanting to say anything further to annoy me.
Daily Prompt: Mouth Drop

In exactly 100 words creatively describe one moment when your mouth dropped open, chin hit the ground, and tears rolled down your face (figuratively or not). If you prefer to develop this into a longer post, that’s fine too!

My One Crush

When I was a girl, girls were not expected to talk to boys. Girls would talk and play together, and that’s what the boys did too.

As a teenager I was aware that some girls were fixated on boys, singers or actors, but somehow I never had a crush on anyone. I was very studious, bent on getting top marks in my subjects. 

My step sisters were having crushes on singers. They had their walls covered with huge posters of their favorites. In my mind’s eye I can see them oohing and aahing over their latest one.

My best friend had a crush on a senior boy, and I always wondered at her foolishness. The boy probably wasn’t aware. Then there was another girl who always seem to be weepy over a boy in her class, because he was interested in another girl.

I can honestly say my one crush was my husband to whom I got married.

Daily Prompt: First Crush

Who was your first childhood crush? What would you say to that person if you saw him/her again?


A Cup of Water

What wakes me up?

The fear of God and the Day of Reckoning when we will be standing before Him, and know what will be our eternal abode — heaven or hell?

I hurry to do my wadu, and say my Fajr (morning) prayer.

I have answered this prompt (worded this time differently) at least three times, so I won’t repeat.

Before my (late) husband got sick, I was taking a class with a religious teacher on Quran and Islam. Later on when my husband got progressively more sick, I had to leave.

The teacher guided us towards many books by well known Islamic scholars. This story is from one of the books.

There was once a man who was very pious. He used to pray when he would find time from his worldly pursuits. A day came when he decided to leave everything— his wealth, his wife and his children. He retired to a rocky island where no one dwelt. He spent his whole time in praying to God and meditation.

Those were the days when an average human life was a thousand years or less. This man lived six hundred and fifty years. He had supplicated God that when he dies he should die in prostration. God granted his wish. In death his head touched the ground.

After death he came before God. God told the angels to take him to heaven. The man was irked and disappointed that God didn’t acknowledge his years of praying. He thought that his praises would be sung. Nothing like that happened. He felt slighted.

God being God knew what he was thinking. Instead of heaven the man suddenly found himself in a desert. He was in agony, parched with thirst.

He asked for a cup of water. A hand appeared from the unseen holding a cup of water, “This cup of water for your years of praying?”

The man said yes. His years of praying were worth only a cup of water.

We forget that whatever good we do, we do it for our own souls. God doesn’t need us but we mortals need Him for our own salvation.
Daily Prompt: Forward Drive

What is the one thing that drives you to wake up in the morning and do whatever it is you do? Is it writing, family, friends, or something else entirely?


Inside The Bubble

With the help of my iPhone and iPad, I will be okay. These two have been my companions in the past, so if I am quarantined I won’t suffer from the isolation.

Yesterday I had to go without breakfast for a visit to the doctor. Three of my health issues were piling up, and I could no longer ignore them. I have no medical insurance, so I have to pay for a doctor visit and buy medicine with cash. This month has been costly for me, but I am surviving.

I had been asked to come for a blood test (abstaining from food and water) at eight in the morning. For a simple blood test I had to wait till twelve. By that time I was both hungry and thirsty. I was feeling lightheaded and was having tremors in my hands.

My son who accompanied me was sneezing. He must have caught the germs from someone in the waiting room. We returned home at three, and I was sneezing as well.

To stop my runny nose I took Benadryl. All I did yesterday and now is sleep.


Inside the Bubble

A contagious disease requires you to be put into quarantine for a whole month (don’t worry, you get well by the time you’re free to go!). How would you spend your time in isolation?


You Can Be

Every age has its own sweet poignancy.

A child — innocence and no concept of time, or money.

An adolescent— dreams.

An adult — you may be reconciled  (or not) to what you have achieved in life.

I wish Adam and Eve had not touched the forbidden tree. I wouldn’t be here, and going through the life I have to live through.

I am still a child at heart. Most things dear to me are the same. I carry a part of my adolescent years. When I am stressed with worry, I dream of my worries being over.

I have found that some people never grow up mentally (their bodies do). They learn to cover up, but they remain childish in their tantrums and dislikes. I am glad I am not one of them.

I remain a child at heart, an adult dreaming on,  with no wish for forever living.

Daily Prompt: Golden Age

If you had to live forever as either a child, an adolescent, or an adult, which would you choose — and why?


Decisions, Decisions

The weight of decisions lie upon my shoulders

Why did I decide matters so hurriedly 

I should have taken time to ask and to think

Wouldn’t have found myself in a quandry 

Oh! How do I extricate myself

Shouldn’t have taken steps so carelessly 


Decisions, Decisions

How are you more likely to make an important decision — by reasoning through it, or by going with your gut?


Forever Young

If I can have the face and figure I had at eighteen, why not?

But there is a contingency to it. 


With the above I would like to have the same knowledge I have now. Only and only then I will drink from it.

Then again if it entails living forever, I won’t drink. I would like to remain the same as I am now till death comes.

I remember as a child when I saw my dead mother, my thoughts were of dodging death. Stories abound in every culture of fountain of life. I thought when I grew up I would search the world for it. As if it was an easy thing? Ha!

As a teenager realization struck that roaming the world alone, unprotected wasn’t a choice. The world was a dangerous place, and going alone was a folly. I never ventured anywhere unattended.

I did read the chilling story of a man who searched the world for fountain of life. He wanted to escape death. When he reached it, he was delirious with happiness. He was about to drink when he noticed old people lying about the place, who couldn’t move at all. He found that those were the ones who had drunk from the fountain.

They were living forever, wishing for death to come and death wasn’t coming.

Forever Young

If there were a real Fountain of Youth, would you drink the water?


Photo Credit: Google

Oft Repeated

I wish the Daily Prompt comes up with some new topics. This said I will write about the trip we took to Carvins Cove, Virginia. The Carvins Cove Natural Reserve spreads over 12,700 acres, and is known for hiking, biking, fishing, boating and kayaking.

My daughter Nola had packed a lunch to take with us. It consisted of baked chicken wings, corn on the cob and a salad of strawberries, fresh spinach, tangerines and walnuts. After finishing with lunch we returned to the lake.

We had two options. One was kayaking, and the other one was pedal boating. I don’t know swimming. As a child I didn’t have an opportunity to learn, and as an adult I had become a bit squeamish. Then a time came when I wanted to learn, my (late) husband squished the idea.

The lake was fifty feet deep so Nola and I opted for a pedal boat as both of us were non swimmers. The four children (two to one kayak) donned their vests and were soon mere specks on the lake. 

Nola made me sit first in the boat. We wore vests too. Nola climbed over with strict instructions that if the boat turned over I should hang on to the side of the boat, and shouldn’t let go. The boat had a mind of its own. It didn’t want to leave the shore. We would face it outwards, and it would turn inwards. After struggling with it, Nola called out to a boater who had arrived with his own boat. His reply was he knew his own boat, and had never sat in a pedal boat. Many like him were arriving with their own large boats.

It was disheartening. There we were ready to take off on our adventure and we weren’t able to do so. We climbed down. While I waited, Nola went to the couple who let us hire their kayaks and boat. There was no refund of money. The couple had charged us more for the use of the pedal boat.

We took a kayak and changed our vests. We were soon on the lake. I won’t deny the fears I had that if it capsized I will be touching the bottom. Nobody was there to save us. The owners had told us the tales of those who didn’t make it.

We soon got the hang of it. To turn right we used the oar to the left, and to turn left it was the other way round. To go straight we used both sides. One hour passed so quickly. It was fun. It was a cloudy day so we didn’t get sunburned.

The children didn’t want to leave. They were persuaded to leave with a promise of seeing the movie The Antman at the theater. With our muscles and joints aching with the unaccustomed exercise we headed home.

Daily Prompt: Missing Sequels

If you could create a sequel to one favorite (standalone) movie, which would it be? How would it build on the original?


My New Friends

Last week I was returning back to Houston. I had missed my next plane from Atlanta, Georgia due to the storm brewing over it.

In the air train four young people (3 boys and a girl) befriended me in guiding to the next train. They had pulled me down with them when I didn’t know where to get down. It was nice of them, and they all shouted goodbyes to me with instructions to get down on which terminal.

I had a long wait ahead of me for the next plane flying to Bush International. A young man walked to the seat beside me, asking whether it was taken. When I replied in the negative he sat down in it.

He was eating something. When he finished, he started talking. I am never the one to start conversations with total strangers. If he hadn’t, I would have never spoken to him. He was easy to talk to, and soon we were chatting like old friends.

He was a dentist by profession, and had applied for enrollment for further studies at Houston. He was going for an interview. He was apprehensive as to getting in the program. I tried to bolster his confidence with talk of him succeeding at it this time.

He showed me a picture of his three months old son, and his pretty wife. His old parents lived with him. He was all praise for his wife for looking after his aged parents.

We talked, and laughed during our long wait at the airport. My wait wasn’t boring, because of him. I wished him luck, and good health, as we got in line to board the plane.

Daily Prompt: Middle Seat

It turns out that your neighbor on the plane/bus/train (or the person sitting at the next table at the coffee shop) is a very, very chatty tourist. Do you try to switch seats, go for a non-committal brief small talk, or make this person your new best friend?