The Wire

This week I had the honor of learning more about a new Non profit organization still in its early stages yet has been successful beyond words; this charity is called Project Akhirah. A very close friend and sister of mine, Amina Farah, first reached out to me to discuss Project Akhirah and her volunteer work with this incredible organization. Project Akhirah is very new and thriving and looking to get the word out of what their organization wishes to accomplish. I decided why not write a blog! I’m always looking for reasons to sit back and type away. Project Akhirah is a Non profit organization set up in 2013 by a group of young Muslimahs’ in hopes of making a difference in the lives of the less fortunate, those whose lives are laden with poverty and suffering.  However each of the girls were personally affected by the crisis in Syria in particular and felt it a responsibility to help towards this cause. As a group they had made pledges to raise enough funds to donate to the Isla

You are as strong as the northwest winds yet tame as an early morning sunset creeping up in all corners of the world in the soft sensual way that you do.  When I watch you raise your beauty towards the skies I feel this innate sense of comfort spreading towards the deepest embers of my soul.  You put a smile on my face and the comfort of all comforts in my heart. But when pain suspends upon me in the deepest ways wounding me to a plane of never-ending infinity what am I to do? What do you expect me to do? I seem to be swaying senselessly in between different doors on different planes different from anything on this universe.   When I finally catch a glimpse of you and what is buried deep within this tree of passion I am completely and utterly dumbfounded.  Which plane do I hold my ground on? Which door of destiny must I cast my shadow through? Will I ever hear the much awaited whisper in the winds or shall I do what I always do? Shall I begin a new path? Or shall I shield my soul f

Hello to all my readers. This blog post will be a tad bit different compared to my normal ones as it’s not fiction! The other day I was online checking out the photography page of a very talented photographer and I felt compelled to write a review of his business. Recently, July 2012 to be exact,  I attended a friend’s wedding and like all weddings there was a lot going on. One of the most important logistics of a wedding is having an exceptional photographer. I’m sure you can all agree on how endearing it is to capture the special moments on our very special day to treasure for the rest of our lives. Having a collection of these moments to look back on is absolutely priceless and even more so when the emotions taking place speak out through the images. Unfortunately not all photographers are gifted with this art; however I must say Photographer Amin Islam does an impeccable job in emulating this feat. The wedding photographer at the wedding, Amin Islam, seemed to know exactly w

idden truths I try to bury it deep within the library of memories I keep filed away, in an effort to shield myself from the pain which gnaws at me time and time again, but I hopelessly fail. The need to look over my shoulder is crucial. One lost look and it will eat into the deep embers of my soul. When I am reminded an incomplete smile forms around the corners of my mouth before my face contorts and small drops of tears begin to fall down my downtrodden facade. I say downtrodden because the memories are as sweet as honey and yet bitter as a glass of lemonade on a hot summers day. Night Over head the rain drops form their own rhythm on the tin roof while outside in the courtyard the squishing of mud by the feet of rushed servants begins another. This song was the perfect lullaby, but my eyes would not give into temptation. The guests were outside scrambling for whatever shelter they could find from the splash of monsoon rains. I sat as upright as I possibly could but it was get

The international community is concerned with consuming the highest degree of political and economical power as possible. Or they’re having a competition over who has the greatest Nuclear program at hand or which Palestinian refugee is climbing over some stupid wall, put up by a bunch of inhumane cold blooded rejects, to enter his OWN land. But they ignore the real issues at hand. There’s a disease right now that’s spreading at a very fast pace and this illness will most probably decimate the future of our world. Innocent children are being stripped of their childhoods and forced to work when they should be sitting in classrooms enjoying the fountain of knowledge. These children are our future; they are the next presidents, doctors, innovators, human rights activists who will someday change the lives of the generations before them and the ones to come. The practice of illegal child labour is widely practiced in Nepal, they’re known as Kamalaris, children forced into labour at young

If and when she mentions how she’s bored and would like to return to work her husband casts a disapproving look towards her and changes the subject or tells her she has no time to work.  He asks who will cook his dinner, who will serve his dinner, who will starch and iron his shirts, and who will do the housework.  When she says she can do it ALL and work, he tells her this is her job, taking care of the house and his needs...Load of Bs....I know Soon after she starts popping kids and then it’s all downhill... Some time down the road, after a few kids, this Stepford wife realizes she has no identity for herself, years have been wasted on a MAN, and she begins to resent him.  Now she has three roads to travel down, either she continues with life as it is or puts her foot down and begins to create her own identity outside the house or arguments develop, resentment deepens and the marriage ends..... Some of you might think a few of my descriptions are over the top, because “a

It felt like a dream when I awoke.    I couldn’t believe I was in a luxurious suite here in Prague.    For the past two years I had been contemplating taking a vacation, but it was always something that would hold me back.    Tuesday evening after work I went out to dinner with Richard, my boss and close friend, and we got talking.    He was telling me about his last vacation and where he hoped to go this year.    I remarked on how lucky he was to have the time for all these escapades.    Richard put down his wine glass and cast an intent look on his face. “Grace, what’s the point of living life if you never take the time out to discover and enjoy it, “he said. “Besides I barely ever plan these holidays, they’re always at a moment’s notice.  It’s not really that hard booking a flight last minute and packing a bag,” he said smiling. “You should do it.  I’ve known you for the last three years and you’ve never taken a holiday. You need to have some fun girl!”  Throughout t

I held onto you tight And stayed close to you. They pulled out their guns As we slowly backed away. Then one of them said, “Wait, we want you to stay.” I could feel my heart pounding, I wanted to cry, All I could think was I don’t want to die. What happened next, I don’t even know. It all happened so fast But yet so slow. The next thing I knew You were lying at my feet. They walked away laughing And left you in the street. I fell to my knees And I held you close. My tears dampened your hair And your blood stained my clothes I cried and cried Hoping you’d come back to me, But you just lied in my arms, As lifeless as can be. No one came NO one even cared. I screamed to God, “Why couldn’t you have been spared?” Now I’m getting to the end Of my long sad poem. I hope you’re happen In your heavenly home Always remember Our love is true And wherever you are I’ll be thinking of you.

When I see her tears, her pain why do I ache in here? Is this justice? If the burden of both tears and pain were her, what justice would that be? Were her tears and her pain to be mine, justice would be done The tears welled up from her heart. I made her cry.  When her tears stream down here why do I ache in here? She says I don’t understand anything.  If I never understood anything, How come I understand what I am and what she is ?

After a gruelling 20 minutes stuck in traffic we had finally reached the train station.  We raced up the stairs, bought out tickets, got the Platform A, and had a few minutes to spare.  He found a seat for me but I was too nervous and terrified to even think about sitting.  I looked down the platform trying to see if the train was arriving, but no sign.  I found myself pacing up and down thinking that there was no turning back now. The sickening feeling I’d felt since I woke up returned once again.  Was it because of the nerves or just another reminder of my state?  Knowing what was coming I rushed into the restroom and made a dive for the sink.  This was probably the tenth time I’d gotten sick since I’d found out; yesterday morning it was the smell of jam donuts. All of a sudden I realized this would be the last time it would happen.  I caught my reflection in the mirror and at that moment I felt such hate for myself.  What sort of person does something like this? How could someone

There are thoughts I wish to share  They haven’t come to my lips and only peek through my eyes  These thoughts ask for words, from me and you  So that it can wear those words and come to our lips  Thoughts that wish to be embraced by words  But these thoughts are actually feelings..only feelings  It’s like an aura floating in the air  A voiceless aura..about which only you and I know  Hidden from the world, but not from you and I  When will we unveil our thoughts?  How long will they remain unspoken?

This moment seems to flow like a molten sapphire  A moment filled with a deep blue silence  A silence so deafening and yet so serene  Neither is the earth below nor is the sky above  The rustling of the tree branches  The leaves are saying only you are here  Hidden from everyone and everything  Only myself, my breath, and my heartbeat  Complete tranquillity, loneliness, and only me  Because of this I believe in my existence.

Every night as you sleep, I check up on you. I run my fingers through your head, Wipe away the sweat beads that appear From being too deep in the covers. I examine your small fingers, And kiss everyone. I’m reminded of the day I first set my eyes on you, Small and innocent. When the nurse placed you in my arms, I was lost, Lost in my love for you. You looked at me long and hard, And then a small smile formed around the sweet corners of your beautiful face. Slowly your eyes closed, And you fell into a blissful sleep. Tears spring to my eyes. I still couldn’t believe you were mine, I could not believe you came from me. And I was amazed and moved that god had shed his grace on me. I had so many fears, But they vanished the moment I set my eyes on you. You are my everything. I vowed that day to make all your dreams and hopes come true. Since that winter morning I have lived every day for you. And will continue to do so. Your happ

Friendship burgeons out of nowhere, It begins from the moment we enter this world. We are rouged and caught in its reverie unaware of our surroundings, Through the years this friendship takes on higher levels. When we’re young we follow suit of our friends; How they dress or the toys they possess. As we grow older it’s more about the care and attention given, And not so much on the character by which the choosing is driven. With the years passing by we check if our characters match, And scan our likes and dislikes right from scratch. But once adulthood approaches, It’s an all new world filled with views and conceptions and misconceptions. When we were younger there was the need for reassurance, Are you my best friend? Is this enough? But now mere words are not of necessity for a friendship this profound. As the days go by, this silence is of more value than words, Tears are sweeter than a smile, voice lovelier than the melodies of any bird. Then gradua

This is absolutely ridiculous! Of all the days to be stuck in traffic it had to be today. I still needed to get home and start on the desserts. After two weeks of planning a sensational menu, taking meticulous notes, going through the shopping list countless times, I’d forgotten the most important ingredient, icing. I’m normally very calm and collected but for some reason since I’d woken up this morning I had this horrible knot in my tummy. My husband and I were meeting the girl our son, Jai, was wishing to spend the rest of his life with. After a year of courtship he’d finally come to us to declare his love and wishes to marry the girl. We’d decided it’d be best if both families met and took it from there and they were coming today!  The knucklehead in front of me was beeping his horn for probably the tenth time in the last ten minutes with no avail. After switching on the radio to traffic news this 10 mile traffic jam made sense. There had been a two car accident up ahead, for

Every time I look at my phone and see his texts something inside of me lights up.  It’s a wonderful feeling knowing there’s someone else in this universe who understands how you feel because they feel it too and their simple words of reassurance does wonders to this lonely feeling.  He’s become my best friend, my first actual grown up best friend.  Sometimes I do wonder how our friendship never turned into anything else.  To be honest it baffles me.  It’s an age old conception that men and women can never simply be friends.  Somewhere down the line it blossoms into something more, whether it be purely physical or love. I remember the first night we met.  I’d just logged on to this chat site after many years and the first person to pop up was him.  I was wasting a bit of time as it was still pretty early in the night, nothing on telly, and far from tired.  After spending a few minutes flicking through channels I decided to doodle a bit on my lap top and somehow in between checking e