Tag Archives: Peshawar

Caper

Grandson H on graduation day (pencil marked)

The little boys capered on our front lawn. Grandson H who was four at the time was blissfully welcoming more inside the gates. We– late husband, and I, Son and his family had come to spend a night at our village home, and attend a wedding next day.

Cloistered in our Peshawar house, H never had so many boys to play with. H soon exhausted our supply of water bottles, juices and soft drinks. He was happily playing the host, not realizing there wasn’t any water left for us.

Along with the younger children, an older batch of eleven to fourteen had slipped inside. They attacked the fruit trees of apricots, peaches, leeches, loquats and the ground beneath was littered with leaves and fruit. Thankfully the watchman returned from his home, and shooed the unruly ones out, and saved the trees from further plundering.

In the evening H had to be persuaded to let his newfound friends go. He was all for his friends to spend the night with us.

DAILY PROMPT

Caper

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Distant

Coming August will mark the fifth death anniversary of my late husband. With passing on of the years my late husband is becoming a distant memory. I feel more of his presence in both homes in Peshawar, and the village home than here in Houston.

One reason can be that his photos hang in my own homes. They keep his memory alive. The photographs mark happy times in our lives with no shadow of death looming over them. They evoke happy times. The one hanging in the hallway shows him dressed in his military uniform, and looking totally handsome, and beguiling. The other one has both of us, covers a wall in the large kitchen in our Peshawar home.

My Quran teacher said that dead people’s photographs shouldn’t be displayed in our homes. That is one reason there is a small photo of my husband only on the fridge which son has pasted, and I have not hung any others here. Anyway the home I share with son is his, although all the furniture, and things belong to me.

I am not going to remove the photographs in my own homes. It maybe wrong according to my religious teacher, but I can’t deny the comfort they bring to my heart when I look at them. Maybe God won’t disapprove, and look over my misdoing.

DAILY PROMPT

Distant

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Buff

While living in Peshawar, I depended upon Son to send me footwear from here. Son’s and mine tastes differ. What he thought his mama would prefer, and what I liked weren’t the same. After initial disappointments, I looked up online, and would send him the requirement. That plan worked perfectly, except for a big snag.

We have extremes of weather in Peshawar. In Summers Mercury shoots up, and Winters are very cold. The vagaries of climate didn’t agree with my American shoes. They would disintegrate right in front of my eyes. Once the cold weather started, I would take out my various pairs to see whether they required any buffing. Sometimes one, or two of them would be gone beyond the need to polish, while some pairs would last another season.

DAILY PROMPT

Buff

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Roots


I took a few leaves from the mint leaves we bought from World Food, and poked them into the soil of the pot I had in the balcony. Originally I had planted mint plants in the same pot. While I was in Peshawar, the poor things died of dehydration due to neglect. 

It was an experiment, whether roots would appear. They did! The leaves sprouted roots, and now the mint is slowly spreading. Son is fond of mint chutni with his food. Whereas he is happy, I as a mother feel happy.

What is it with mothers? When our children are unhappy, it seems the light goes out of our lives.

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Roots

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Tenacious 

I could see the growing patch on the wall near the ceiling of my bedroom in Peshawar. It looked unsightly, and rather ugly. It also meant that the occasional rain water was making its’ way in, and marring my wall.

I climbed to the roof to determine from where the rain water was sneaking its way inside. That’s when I saw a small plant flourishing on the roof top. It wasn’t exactly on my side of the house, but was on my tenent’s side of the house next door.

I walked over to it, and tried to pull it with my bare hands, but it wouldn’t budge. It’s roots clung tenaciously to the cement in the roof. Peshawar is a city where rainfall occurs in certain months like January, or July and rest of the year the weather is dry, and dusty. It hardly rains. 

I recognized the plant. It was a small peepal tree in the making. The small branches with large green leaves waved gaily in the wind in the early morning. It seemed to be smirking, telling me you can’t take me out

I called a mason to discover the leak in the roof on my side of the house. He pulled out the plant easily enough for me, but hasn’t been successful in finding out the leak, and cause of the growing patch on the wall.

DAILY PROMPT

Tenacious

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My Purple Dress

The one I am writing about, I  haven’t got it with me here. It lies in a suitcase in Peshawar. This time when I was there, I wanted to search for it , but all the boxes, and suitcases are upstairs in the attic. Short of climbing the wooden stairway, I couldn’t get it. Another thing was, most of the time I forgot to go get it.

I didn’t have time on my side. Whenever I thought about it, I would be busy. I would tell myself I am in a hurry right now, I will look for it in the evening–  in the morning, and so on. It kept getting postponed. Mornings — I was short on time, and in the evenings I would be plain tired. The only thing appealing was getting to bed, and going to sleep.

I had to conquer two things. First thing was to climb the stairway, then secondly battle the layers of dust which had accumulated in the attic. In a second the hands would get grimy beyond recognition. Whose hands are they? Certainly not mine. But the evidence would stare me in the face. They were mine, attached to my body.

I would climb down to wash my hands. Meanwhile if a phone was ringing, or someone was banging at the outside door, it would get my attention. I would forget about lights on in the attic adding to the electricity bill. Once I forgot they could burn to eternity. I only remembered on my next voyage to the heaven above, and would gave a thump to my head, telling myself accusingly  you forgot

Maybe I retrieve it on my next trip to hometown, and wear it for the summer in 2018.

DAILY PROMPT

Purple

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Minimal

Today I discovered the minimal style of selecting three flowers, and a little greenery at three different heights in three different vases on a mirrored plate to create a minimal flowers arrangement. Cool, isn’t it?

At home in Peshawar (not here), I have acquired over a period of time, two (if I remember correctly) sets of three each different vases. I didn’t purchase them, but are gifts from friends. I never knew what to do with them, except to arrange them on a mantelpiece collecting dust. Whenever I go back the first two weeks are spent feverishly cleaning, washing the various knick knacks, and removing the clingy dust.

Maybe next time I am over there I will try the minimal flower arrangement. When dear husband was alive, I would ask his permission to cut a few of his beloved roses from the front garden of roses he created. I needed them for flower arrangement in the sitting area, or the dinning table. I was minimalist in my approach. I did it only when company was expected, or it was a special occasion.

In the beginning it was a total Nahna. He couldn’t stomach the idea. Gradually he relented to let me cut a few of them. Now the roses have vanished as he did too.

DAILY PROMPT

Minimal

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