Dear LOST, I am a believer!

Today, as I dropped my sister off I saw this banner hanging off a balcony and I just had to snap this photo. I have been an avid LOSTIE for six seasons. I have introduced the show to people who have joined the cult and tonite I watched the culmination of six years of believing in two brilliant producers.

For the audience that hasn't watched LOST or caught an episode and was confused by the storyline, may I encourage you to set aside the whole summer to watch this TV series. The mind boggles at how religion/spirituality plays such a central role in this series. For a society that is steadily moving to secularism coupled with a decline in institutionalized religion, LOST has been able to capture the attention of millions of Americans.

The island is symbolic. Jack was being tested. He had to accept that he had died and find the people whom his life touched in order to move on. Move on to where exactly? That is unknown. That is left for interpretation. For the believers of Heaven/Hell, Jack would seem to have moved on to Heaven. For the believers of another life after death, Jack could have very well moved on to another life. For an atheist, I guess Jack just screws it all up for there is nothing after death!

Thank you Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse for a wonderful show that thrilled me every single week with questions that you have not yet completely answered. It was a blast and I shall miss you!

The surface looks smooth but underneath there is a swirling mass bubbling. Once in a while a bubble will break the surface and if you are not careful the stream of steam it lets off will scald you. It is a rare occurrence and one that is both fascinating and scary at the same time. This unknown mass. This unfathomable, unmeasurable, putrid mess exist beneath a calm and unbroken surface unbeknowest to anyone. :)

3rd of December

Zainab stared at her reflection in the mirror as she adjusted her graduation cap on top of her hijab. There was a knock on the door and her little sister peeked in smiling. "We are waiting for you hurry!" she exclaimed. Zainab turned back to the mirror with a lazy wave to her sister. She wanted to look good for today was an important day. She pursued her lips together and watched as her dimples formed at the corners of her mouth. One last thing and she would be ready. She reached for her top drawer and pulled a tiny jewelery box. Her fingers trembled as she opened the box to pull out a simple gold chain with an inscription on the clasp.

Zainab turned the chain to read the inscription even though it was permanently engraved in her heart when there was another urgent knock on her door. "Zainab," came a gruff voice. Her father's body was framed by the door as he smiled beguilingly at her. His eyes seemed to be dancing today and Zainab hadn't seen that look for years. Actually the last time she had seen that look was 20 years ago when she was 9. Then the color drained from his face as his eyes saw what was clasped in Zainab's hand. Ali Dheer, Zainab's dad, stomped into the room and made to grab the necklace from Zainab but she was too fast for him and she stowed it in her clothing. "Give it to me!". "No! Abo please I am begging you please not today." Zainab started sobbing as her father glared at her and beckoned with his hand for her to hand over the necklace. Zainab slowly opened her hand and let the necklace slip through her fingers into her father's waiting palm. Ali turned on his heels and walked out of his daughter's room.

15 mins later Zainab emerged from the house and joined her family as they set out for The Shamo Hotel. Every couple of feet Zainab heard her name being called out as neighbours and well wishers congratulated her. You see today Zainab was graduating as a doctor of medicine. She was 29 years old and against all odds was graduating with a degree in Somalia, of all places. A land that had been written off by many of its inhabitants as well as the world. A land that her family had called home for the last 10 years. A land that she once was ashamed to call her own but now held a special place in her heart. Her heart was slowly filling with happiness as she forgot what happened earlier. She held on to her sister's hands as she cast her eyes around to look for her fellow graduates making their way to the ceremony.

"Zainab!"............"Cadde!" It was her best friend. She walked faster to catch up with him and his family. He looked dapper today with his cap and gown. He even seemed to have shaved off his wadaad beard. Zainab smiled playfully at him as she raised her eyebrows in appreciation. As they neared the venue their group expanded as more of Zainab's class mates joined them. Pretty soon they were a mass of noisy conversations, chuckles, giggles, hugs and kisses making its way into the hallways of The Shamo Hotel. The place looked transformed as Zainab noticed the stage and the podium. She also noted the placement of their chairs, those red velvet lined chairs that would usher in a new era for all of them. They were the second class graduating from Benadir University. "Okay everyone take your places!" came one of their professor's voice.

Zainab felt someone tugging at her robe and she turned to see who it was. It was her little sister and she motioned for Zainab to lower her head. As Zainab lowered her head her sister's hands circled around her neck and Zainab felt the light weight of a necklace on her neck. Zainab turned her wide eyes to her sister as she twirled the necklace between her fingers. Her sister gave her a kiss and whispered "We all love you Zainab". As the place quieted down for the beginning of the ceremony Zainab counted how many ministers had turned up for the ceremony. She could recognize only three but she was pretty sure the other two guys sitting by them were also ministers for they all had an official looking face. All the journalists were jostling for position as one by one the dignitaries were introduced. Zainab's heart was pounding as she looked at the sea of people around her. As one of the dignitaries got up to talk Zainab tried to find her father in the crowd. She looked for his snow dusted, short, cropped hair and she found him three rows behind the journalists. She tried to catch his eye as a woman sitting by him got up from her seat and made her way to the front.

Zainab watched as the woman reached underneath her robes to adjust something. Something about the woman wasn't right. Zainab couldn't place her finger on it and turned to ask Cadde's opinion when she felt then heard an explosion rock the hall. She felt her body being propelled a few feet away as dust enveloped the hall. There was turmoil and confusion as people panicked to get out of the hall. Zainab tried to open her eyes wider to adjust to the sudden loss of light but she couldn't see anything except for blurred objects. Noise was reaching her intermittently as she gingerly tried to get up from her position. She didn't have any strength in her and there was blood on the ground. Zainab looked as the pool of blood got bigger and darker. It was deoxygenated blood thus must be coming from the pulmonary artery, she thought amusingly, as that piece of knowledge from her first anatomy class resurfaced.

Someone kneeled over her as she tried yet again to move. It was Cadde. He was speaking to her but she couldn't hear him nor could she say anything to him. Her body was getting cold and she was going in and out of consciousness. "Zainab! Zainab! stay with me, stay awake you have to stay awake!" Cadde urged her as he felt along her body trying to find the source of the blood. His fingers found a piece of iron wedged firmly underneath Zainab left breast. Cadde looked around trying to find one of the professors. He couldn't do this! He wasn't a doctor. Zainab was. He was just an engineer. All around him Cadde saw bodies crying for help or bleeding to death. The air itself felt heavy around him and he barely could draw in air. As he held Zainab's hand Cadde sent a prayer to God asking him to save this girl that was so brave. This girl that withstood all that was thrown to her. This girl who had been his friend and confidant for the past five years. Cadde leaned down to beg Zainab to hold on and as he did Zainab thrust something in his hand. Cadde watched as her hand fell away from him and knew Zainab was gone.

In his hand lay a simple gold necklace with an inscription "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams".

Stabbed in the back II

Mahad stood stock still like a mannequin in a store front. His mind was stuck in a rut........What just happened? His gaze fell upon the pieces of the vase scattered on the carpet. It was a reflection of what was happening to his world. He silently walked to the edge of the bed and sat with his head cradled in hands. It couldn't be! She couldn't have found out, could she? Timiro's face kept materializing in front of him and he could almost touch the betrayal etched in her face. The laugh lines that he had learned to look for every time she broke out in a smile were obscured by the harsh and rigid form her face took on.

Suddenly something clicked and Mahad mobilized. He needed his phone, where was it? He looked at his bedside, her bedside, under the bed. Nope not there. He grabbed the home phone and dialed his mobile. He cocked his ear but still no sound. Mahad moved about the room peering this way and that and finally deduced that the phone must be somewhere else in the house. He called it again as he stepped out of the room. There! He could hear it. It was lying by the top of the staircase. As his eyes fell upon the screen, his worst fear was realized. Timiro must have read the text messages.

Next thing Mahad knew, he was flying down the stairs with his towel on. It was as he was yanking the front door open that he realized he had to at least get some clothes on. Bounding back up the stairs Mahad started strategizing. Ok all is not lost, Timiro suspects but she doesn't know everything. Right now she is thinking of the worst case scenario which was far from the truth.......yea yea.....I just need to get to her. Pulling open the drawers, Mahad slipped into his jeans and threw on his UMASS sweatshirt. He grabbed his phone and car keys as he hurried out the house. The car was still out front so she must have either gone with someone else or used public transport. There was only one place Timiro was going to go when she was distraught; her mother's.

Mahad called ahead to the airport and booked the first flight out of London. She couldn't get to her parent's before he talked to her. They have been waiting for this opportunity for months. He needed to hurry. Time was of the essence. It was do or die. This was for all the marbles and he knew this was one wrong he had to fix no matter what it took. Twenty minutes later and still alive, Mahad sprinted through the airport to get onboard the plane. He run through lines, explanations, justifications, excuses, conciliations, you name it Mahad analyzed the situation and the probability of its success. As the pilot announced the descent, Mahad said a silent prayer to God. His life depended on this moment. His actions in the next hour were going to determine the rest of his life. There were countless ways he could screw this up, a single word or phrase would send him to his doom.

Mahad, if you asked people who knew him, was a confident SOB. He was the type of guy who you sent to the negotiating table when you needed miracles to occur. His tongue was sweeter than honey and he understood his power, which made him a force to be reckoned with. But, today he felt like he was walking the last green mile. He mulled over his predicament as the taxi made its way to the train station. His eyes scrolled down the arrival timetable of the trains (on his Iphone) trying to figure out which one Timiro was on. He narrowed it down to two trains with the first one arriving in ten minutes. The taxi pulled up to the train station and Mahad handed the cabbie a note but didn't stick around for the change.

His feet felt heavy with lead as he criss-crossed the mass of people making their way to the exits. Mahad stood on the platform and scanned every head that alighted from the train. He was a foot taller than most people so this was an easy task, what wasn't easy was the staccato beat that pounded in his chest. He felt his body tense up and sweat poured out of his pores. Then his stomach dropped as he caught sight of Timiro's head bent in submission as she let herself be carried along by the masses. Mahad took a step forward and before he could make his move, her head rose and her eyes bore into his very soul. His breath caught in his throat as he fought the urge to turn tail and hide in shame. She stood forlorn as people pushed and shoved past her. He stood waiting as his willed his soul to carry his message to her. To tell her that nothing happened. To tell her that he was weak and had succumbed. To tell her that he hadn't betrayed her. He hadn't deserted her. Her sacrifices mattered. Her love mattered. She mattered!

Stabbed in the back

Timiro lay her head against the glass and stared sightlessly as the landscape zoomed by her. She was on a train heading home to her mother in Manchester. She took a deep breath as she tried to suppress the anguish in her heart. She had been in her own house a few hours ago and now she was homeless and husbandless. Life can be so trifling at times. She closed her eyes as she retraced her morning.

She had awoken to a bright sunny day in London which was a blessing for that time of year. The sun streamed through the window lighting up the room and waking her up. She peered sleepily at her husband who was sick with the flu. He seemed to be slumbering peaceful so Alhamdullilah he must be on the mend. Slowly putting her foot on the ground Timiro run down the list of things she ought to do today. The kids needs to be dropped at school, she needed to pick up some grocery, she had a GP appointment and she also need to go pick up her husband's suits from the cleaners. He was going back to work tomorrow and she knew he would require his power suit.

Timiro bustled around the house for the next couple hours getting the kids ready and when she finally was ready to leave the house she went to check on her hubby. He was still sleeping bless his heart. Timiro moved closer to check his temperature and noticed his phone blinking. She reached down to move it out of the way and place it on the table so as not wake him when something on the screen flashed for attention. It was a text message, no a few text messages. Something told Timiro to open it but she didn't dare. She had moved past that now. She was at a better place when it came to her husband, but still something nagged at her. As she left the room Timiro realized that she still had the phone in her hand.

"Hey baby. I missed you. Call me when you get this message."

"Hey hope you feeling better. I was thinking about you. Call me."

"Hey wondering what you are doing. Can't wait to talk to you"

Her mind reeled with shock as her knees suddenly felt weak. Timiro grasped the banister for support as she reread the messages. Was he cheating on her? Disbelief was quickly followed by anger. How dare he? After all the effort she put forward? How could he do that? Timiro felt sick to her stomach and slowly let her body slide to the ground. Her mind stopped functioning as a wave of pain followed by righteous anger washed over her. It wasn't possible......It just wasn't. What did she do wrong? What was missing in their marriage? Why didn't he talk to her about it?

Questions upon questions flooded her mind but none had an answer. She wanted to wake him and shake the answers out of him when her little girl's voice called for her. Timiro's mind focused on her child's voice as she wiped the angry tears from her eyes. She got up slowly using the banister as support and made it downstairs. She bundled the kids in the car and drove them to school. She called her GP and cancelled her appointment. She came home and grabbed a bag from the closet. She marched upstairs not mindful of any noise she caused. Walking into their bedroom she saw that he was awake. There was no one on the bed. Timiro opened her bag and started throwing things in there. Shirt, skirts, abaya, bras, panties, hijabs, tights, perfumes. It all went in helter skelter. She didn't care if there was order or disorder. Her life was over! Her marriage was over!

She heard the bathroom door open and turned her malicious eyes to her husband. His smile froze on his lips as he took in the scene. Crash! Timiro threw the vase by her bedside across the room at him.

" How could you? This is the thanks I get for marrying you and sticking it out for all these years? Fuck you! I hope she is a disease ridden piece of trash! I hope you die! Don't you come close to me.......I can't stand looking at you!"

Timiro yanked her bag from the floor and proceeded to bulldoze her way out of the room. She grabbed her purse and keys on her way out the door and with tears streaming down her eyes she walked to the nearest train station. She figured she had an hours head start on him before the shock wore off and her husband came looking for her.

She got off at Euston station and proceeded to the ticketing area. She got the earliest train to Manchester. She didn't let her mind catch up with her body till she sat herself in her seat, but now an hour into the journey she couldn't help but recall everything vividly. She wondered if he will come looking or what the kids will say when they come home and found her gone? She slowly let her body heave the anguish out of her as her sobs racked her body. Her insides felt gutted and worse she knew that there was no turning back now. The story had been written and the ink had dried.

The end

Muna drummed her fingers to Drake's new song as she skirted Shoreview. She was feeling good after watching a movie with a friend and spending some quality time. Her feet weren't as sore any more and neither was her back. She stretched her right foot tentatively to reach the brake pedals and a pain shot through her leg. Muna cursed loudly and adjusted her seat to prevent any more pain. Another shot of pain went through her body and this time it wasn't in her foot. Muna grabbed at her chest. It felt like needles piercing her veins. She removed her foot from the gas pedal and breathed deeply. One breath.....two breath......she slowly felt the band easing on her chest.

As she relaxed, she eased her foot back on the gas pedal. Her right eye suddenly went dark. Muna's instinct told her to pull over but she again breathed. One breath.........two breath............three breath.........four breath. Still her right eye remained sightless. Muna knew it would be another 5 minutes before she could pull into her garage. Her mind started sprinting ahead of her thoughts. Hospital......ER........pull over.........call mom.............call 911............drive faster..............pull over..................drive to the ER.

Her breath was coming in gasps. She couldn't draw in any air no matter how wide she opened her mouth. The world was losing color and her partial vision narrowed. It was nearly over. "Did I pray today?" No. Did I read the Quran? No. God let me live and I will be the most devout believer there ever was. Muna was wheezing now as her bronchioles constricted. I love life. I have much to do. Not now. Muna grabbed at her shirt collar. She could feel her grip on the world loosening. The car was banking to the right and she barely had any strength left in her body.

Muna in her purple dress with a doll standing in front of a house. Beep! Muna crying on the phone with her sister before flying to USA. Screech! Muna kissing her grandma's forehead before the kafan covered her forever. Crash! Muna in a kafan in the earth.Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Muna in complete darkness awaiting.

There is a war going on outside,

no man is safe from,

you can run

but you can't hide forever

from me

-Mobb Deep

Progression into Depression

Priya stood by the glassy lake and watched her breath cloud up into the air. There was no wind tonight and the moon was non-existent, casting the surroundings in shadows. For a stranger this scene would be foreboding, but for Priya it was comforting. She knelt down by the lake's edge and touched its chilly surface with her fingers. Her eyes followed the ripples as they extended outwards. The circles got bigger and bigger till they disappeared into the blackness of the night. Priya wasn't here by choice, at least not by personal choice. She was here because circumstances mitigated by fate lead her here. It lead her to the scene of the suicide. She recalled the red rimmed eyes and the hiccupy cries. She recalled the hastened footfalls and the whispered nuances. She recalled the cold, soft sheets and the stark walls, but most of all she recalled the heartache and the pain. Priya reached into her back-pack and drew out an object. Her long fingers caressed it as she hummed a tune. It was eerie considering the time of night but Priya knew she was alone. She nimbly stepped into the lake, shocking her body with the cold temperature. The water made its way up her body as she progressed towards the center of the lake. The water lapped at her thighs, then her hands, then her waist and slowly reached her chest. Priya started gasping for air. The cold was slowly seeping into her body and then the tremors begun. She had to be careful. Priya looked around her surroundings. Yes, this was the place. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. She lifted the object unto the surface of the lake and laid it there to float. It was beautiful. Its pristine hue contrasted sharply with the black surface of the lake. This was the day and the place of her death, and Priya's heart grieved once more for her best friend, Sonia. Priya turned around to head for shore and as her feet found the gravel, she turned back to watch the white rose bob in and out of the water.

Fragility to rememberance

It had been six weeks since it happened. Salwa smiled begrudgingly at the couple infront of her walking away from the mosque. Her marriage was supposed to happen SIX weeks ago but didn't. She had been duped. There was no marriage forthcoming nor any compensation for the time and energy dispensed at the failed transaction. Did it really boil down to the tick tock of the clock? she questioned. There was no other explaination. Opening her car door, Salwa started the engine. She fiddled around with her dials till she found the Islamic lecture she was looking for. Salwa tried in vain to focus her attention on the material but pretty soon she was back in the pity zone manning the goalpost. Her mind took a topographically picture of her failed engagement as she zoomed in on what she thought was the bend of the river, the slight curve of the foothills, the tiny speck that she didn't see when it was most vital.

**phone ringing**
[Salwa] hey lil mama (trying for cheery)
[Tania] heeeeeeeeeey girl. U ok?
[S] course I am heifer, what you think? I was gonna lie down and die?
[T] nah, I ain't said that but for reals your voice is wavering.
[S] I can't help it, it hurts even though it shouldn't
[T] Bullshit. Let yourself go through the emotional rollercoaster, you need it to get him out of your system
[S] I can't T, I wasted 4 years of my life on this.
[T] We can go over and do some body damage girl! Give me 10 mins with him and I promise he won't do nothing like this to a woman again let alone think it.
[S] He is not worth it T. He used to be the apple of my eye but now he is not worth it. I guess there is a thin line between love and hate.
[T] Go ahead girl, let it out.
[S] Anyway, much ado about nothing. What's g'waning?
[T] Nothin, just chillin...........can't seem to walk down the street without a bitch hollering at me.
[S] **giggles** I done told you before. Its the way you switch dem hips girl.
[T] Whateva yo! Punk azz men who needs them.
[S] You know ima argue with you on that point even thou I should b a man hater right about now.
[T] Youze a strong bitch. No way, no how when I broke up with Jeremy was I able to talk like this in 6 weeks. I was still crying into my cereal.
[S] God giveth, God taketh away girl. Plus he got his coming on this earth and heaven cause you have got to be evil to do what he did. I still can't believe he did it.
[T] I still think he was cheating on you. I don't care what he said. I just don't think a man gonna come off a rejected proposal and get married a week later. I mean WTF? Who does that?
[S] God knows T. I got to get up outta here cause I got to write me a paper for class.
[T] Aight girl. Call me anytime.
[S] I will. Take care of you.
[T] Take care of you too.

Salwa set the phone on her lap as she grabbed the steering wheel. A wave of grief came over her body and sure enough tears started streaming down her face. She regarded the now dark house of God and wished she was inside that cocoon. Salwa knew she did everything right in regards to Khalid and her. Her mother had said no because she was convinced Khalid didn't have her best interest at heart. Salwa had prayed and fasted all through that period asking God to intervene and he had. God had intervened by completely changing the font of the script, thats what everyone told her. She also heard the usual " you are too good for him". It wasn't enough, Salwa's heart still couldn't understand what went wrong and why so late. The long stretch of time they knew each other he could have stopped it at anytime but he didn't. He strung her along and when all was finalized with the parents is when Khalid decided to pull the rug from under her feet. She was disgraced. How was she going to face her family? Most of them were already asking her when the wedding date was. Salwa wrung the steering wheel some more. She gazed at the door of the masjid and finally got out of the car. She slid her key into the lock and set her things on the corner. Grabbing the Quran, she sat crosslegged by the mimbar and let the words from the Quran envelop her being. It was the only place she felt at peace at this moment.

The saga of Hani

As the knife entered his sleep induced body, Hani felt the adrenaline rush coupled with a loathing for this man she called her husband. She had been aiming for his heart but the knife seemed to have picked it own destination, nestling snugly between the liver and the heart. Hani watched the blood spurt out as she gave the knife a good twist and turn. Lifting her eyes to his face, her mind registered that Abdi had been screaming the whole time. His lips were drawn tight in terror while his eyes blazed brightly at her. Hani grabbed the knife with both her hands and savagely pulled it out. Turning on her heel she walked towards the door and ultimately freedom. There was neither remorse nor accountability evident in her body language. Hani walked tall and proud. Her dark eyes held a malicious gleam that was mirrored only by the evil smile now present on her lips. Calmly she placed the knife in a bucket of hydrogen peroxide. She then wiped off any stains on the handle of the knife careful not to let her clothes touch it. Dipping a cloth in the hydrogen peroxide, Hani backtracked and cleaned up the blood trail leading into the kitchen. Walking back into the kitchen she tipped the bucket of the remaining liquid down the drain and filled the bucket with sand. Halfway full she placed the knife in the sand and continued filling the bucket. Looking at the clock above the oven, she wondered how long it would take for Abdi to lose consciousness. Hani was almost done when she heard a phone ringing within the apartment. DAMMIT............I forgot about his cell phone. She rushed into the bedroom a little too late. Abdi was already done delivering the message. His eyes had a triumphant look as they shut themselves to the world. Hani quickly grabbed the bucket, careful not to let any dirt fall out and walked calmly to one of the many exits in the building. Placing the bucket at the doorstep of the laundry building, she sprinkled some cigarette butts on the top. She then threw the gloves she had on into one of the washers spinning. As she was walking back to the apartment, she heard sirens getting closer.

Change of plans. Things weren't going as she had planned. She could walk away and say she had to run an errand and was therefore not home, or she could pretend she just came home. She picked the latter. Leaving the apartment door open she walked into the bedroom and reconnected the phone. She then sat by the still body of Abdi and willed some tears to spring from her eyes. Hani grabbed the phone and dialed 911. Speaking in a fake sobbing tone, she sold the story that she came back to an opened apartment and a stabbed husband. Three minutes later, the ambulance personalle wheeled their gurney in. One performed CPR while the other charged up the defribillator. "I have a pulse" came a triumphant voice. "Good, Lets strap him in. ETA should be 5 mins." Hani's breath quickened. He is alive???? No it can't be. She felt her body being pulled to its feet. An officer was asking her questions she didn't have the answers to. She was lead to a squad car and pushed into it. Hani couldn't believe this was happening to her. NOT HER!!!!!!

Ready to die

Kalthum stared fixatedly at the ceiling. She thought about the cobwebs dangling off the corner and how she should really get rid of them one of these days, but not today. She turned over to her side and placed her hand over the dent in the bed. He used to lie right next to her for the past thirty years. As her palms swept across the Egyptian cotton sheet, she could almost swear she felt his presence in the bedroom. A tear escaped from her eyes as she thought back to all the memories that were made in the room. Kalthum rolled herself to his side of the bed and inhaled deeply. She had changed the sheets last night but his scent still lingered. After ten minutes she finally felt ready to face the world. Quietly getting up, Kalthum smoothed out the bed as per her habit. She walked to the en suite bathroom and got ready for her day. The bathroom felt drafty. When Ismail was alive, Kalthum was used to a steamy bathroom in the morning. Alas, today there would be none of that. Kalthum washed her hair but couldn’t help but to break out in sobs as the water ran down her back. She emerged back into the bedroom to sunny filled room. Grabbing a pair of white chino slacks and her favorite U of M sweatshirt, she walked to the kitchen.

A pancake batter and eggs later, Kalthum realized she had cooked a meal enough for two. She wondered how long it would take for her to get used to the idea he was gone. He wasn’t coming back. She was alone. Kalthum lost her appetite. Storing the food in the fridge, she turned her attention to the morning newscast. It was a ritual she performed each morning with Ismail. They watched news and discussed the broadcast as they munched on their breakfast. This morning was different. There was no one to argue with as to the pro and cons of Israel’s invasion of Lebanon. Kalthum realized she couldn’t stay in the house all day thinking about him. Everywhere she looked, she saw him. His smile, his clothes, his shoes, everything reminded her of him. She grabbed her keys and walked to the garage. Ismail had bought her a car a month ago. She clambered into the car and drove towards the beach. Santa Monica beach had a calming effect on her. Everytime she fought with Ismail, she used to go there for a couple hours. She realized that she was mad at Ismail for leaving her alone in this world. She, who took great pains to be there for him all his life, felt she deserved more. Kalthum heard the horn blasting after she felt her car crumple. Her chest felt compressed and about to explode. She could barely think through the pain shooting up her arms and legs. She knew she was in bad shape when she started seeing red spots in her eyes. Then she felt it, a calm washed over her and she quit fighting for her breath. She closed her eyes and as she did a smile played on her lips. She was going to be with Ismail after all.

Live life to the fullest

His voice floated towards me through the hazy fog. I saw his lips move but I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me. “Here take this card. It’s for a support group. It might help.” He smiled apologetically as he forced the card in between my fingers. On robot mode, I got up and walked out of Dr. Najib’s office. All I could think of was putting one foot infront of the other. I needed to get somewhere so I could digest what just transpired. I only got as far as the staircase before I slumped to the floor. I was dying. I had a time bomb ticking in my head. “I am sorry, but after all the tests I have come to the same conclusion as your previous doctor. You have a brain aneurysm.” Dr. Najib had given me a death sentence and yet the sun continued to shine outside. Tears started streaming uncontrollably down my face. People passing me steered clear of me as if they could contract death from me. A ringing phone pierced my pity party. I realized the annoying ring tone was mine and I reached out to answer it. It was my sister. My finger was posed over the answer button when I realized I was in no condition to talk to anyone. Turning my phone off, I got up from the floor. I needed to clear my head and I knew just what to do.

I turned into the flower lined driveway and turned off my engine. I took a deep breath as I steeled myself for what would meet me when I crossed into the foyer. “Habaryaar! Habaryaar!” came my angel’s voice. Leyla ran towards to me her arms outstretched. I picked her up and hugged her tightly to my body. Her little fingers twined themselves around my neck as she returned the hug with equal fervor. I walked slowly into the house, careful not to trip over her scattered toys. “I love you Habaryaar,” she said as she nuzzled into the crook of my neck. I gasped as tears sprung anew to my eyes. My heart was breaking and my control was slipping all due to this wide eyed beauty named after me. I held her close to me as I rounded the corner and headed for the backyard. I sat on the swing and gathered her to my bosom. I always wanted a baby; a boy. I even had his name picked out. Leyla’s fingers swept over my cheeks as she brushed my tears away. She sat there looking at me, not asking questions, just being attentive and loving.


“Hujui kusalimia watu cambaroo?” asked my sister as she walked towards us. I looked up at her and a sob escaped my lips.
“Oh baby! What happened?”
I shook my head side to the side. I didn’t trust my voice to say a word.
“Come now it can’t be that bad. Whoever it is, he is not worth it”
My body shook as it was racked with more sobs. I hadn't told him & I didn't know if I could.
“I am dying.”
“Huh? Silly! No one dies of heartbreak. Don’t be melodramatic.”
“I am not kidding. I have a brain……………aneurysm”
“Are you sure?”
“I just got a 2nd opinion. It’s confirmed. Tu, I am dying.”


She just stared as me, unsure of what to do or say. She got up from the swing and walked towards the house. When she got to the door, Tu turned around and looked at me. I couldn’t read anything from her body language. I sat there holding my niece who had now fallen asleep on my lap. She had her whole future ahead of her. She would grow up into a wonderful woman and I was going to miss it. I sat there on the swing staring at the ground. There was a line of ants walking towards a tree. Some of the ants were carrying some grains while others carried some kind of insect. I sat watching the procession till it disappeared into a hole. I heard a buzzing and looked up to see a bee hopping from one flower to another; pollinating. I realized that all around me life was going on. The birds were singing, flowers were blooming and life as I knew it was in full swing. I didn’t have to feel like a prisoner trapped or feel like I had to fight for each breath I take. I could find a silver lining to my condition. Hey! If life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

I got up from the swing and walked back into the house. I walked upstairs to my niece’s room and placed her gently on her bed. Pulling the covers around her small body, I placed a kiss on her forehead. I went in search of my sister and found her in the kitchen. She was leaning against the sink crying. I slipped my arms around her and hugged her. There was no need to say anything. I knew everything that she wanted to say. I made a vow then and there that life had given me a second chance. I was going to enjoy each minute doing what I like and being with the ones I love. I was going to live each day like it was my last.

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I am sorry that I didn't think to add this when I wrote this post but I was fighting fatigue at the time. The point to the tale was me getting the courage to do something. The disease is a possibilty for me but I am reluctant to confirm it by getting an MRI. My docs think I should but I don't. I am not prepared to deal with the outcome as of yet. I struggle with life as it is and being the pessimist that I am I can only see a bleak outcome. If I ever do get around to getting tested and giving the docs the chance to confirm their suspicion, then I would hope I could find the silver lining to it. I intend to live life to the fullest regardless.

Chance Meeting II

It had been a year since Mohamed had met Fartun. Their relationship had grown into something beautiful and earthly like a sakura tree. Mohamed had decided to marry this ethereal woman whose eyes hid so much sorrow, whose smile lit a room and whose anger burned whoever it touched. Fartun became his wife a year after the divorce from her estranged husband. Mohamed had legally adopted Kamar and Kay to protect them from their father and to provide them stability. Making our way into the present day lives of Mohamed and Fartun, we walk in on Mohamed staring through a glass door...........


Mohamed watched Fartun turn her back to the class and write something out on the board. It looked like an antiderivative with limits. Mohamed cringed internally remembering nights spent sweating over calculus in his freshman year at school. He sneaked a peek into the classroom to see the students staring enraptured at their teacher. He knew the feeling. Fartun was tall and beautiful but more than that she had the ability to capture your attention and keep it. Mohamed supposed this was what made her a great teacher. She made the subject interesting at times even managing to convince Mohamed to help grade papers. "Mama........MAMA!" squeaked his son. Mohamed looked down at the full head of hair turned to the doorway. His son was learning to talk and had apparently recognized his mother through the glass pane. Mohamed bent down to scoop Khadar into his arms. His son had inherited the wide set eyes from his mother and was staring at him fixatedly. His pudgy hands touching Mohamed's face affectionately, Khadar soon lost interest in what lay on the other side of the glass door. **Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrring......................Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring**

Mohamed stepped away from the door and let the mob make its way to their lockers. Fartun noticed him standing at the door and rushed over smiling broadly. "Hey baby," she cooed. "Hey beautiful,"replied Mohamed. "Erm sweety I was talking to Khadar but I guess you are also my baby," teased Fartun as she plucked Khadar from his arms. As she played with her son she instructed Mohamed in the collection of her papers. All packed up and ready, Mohamed and his family made their way to the parking lot. The crowd has thinned considerably and Fartun was regaling Mohamed with tales of her students. Mohamed opened the car door while listening and proceeded in strapping Khadar into the car seat. From the other side of the parking lot angry voices reached them. A split second later Mohamed noticed that Fartun's voice had stopped. He turned to look over his shoulder to see if she was making her way to the passenger seat, but she wasn't anywhere near the car. Instinctively Mohamed turned towards the angry voices which had now risen to crescendo levels. He saw Fartun's back darting in between the cars in a jog. Cursing under his breath Mohamed started undoing the carseat to get Khadar out. He worked fast as a premonition stole over him. **Crack Crack rang the gunshots**

Mohamed's heart skipped a beat. He undid the last buckle and grabbed Khadar from the car. Not locking the doors or anything Mohamed ran towards the far end of the parking lot. Mohamed couldn't believe it was taking him this long. He was a runner and for once his legs were not moving as fast as he wanted. As he got closer he saw a ring of people around a fallen body. Heart in his mouth, Mohamed pushed his way through the crowd. "Noooooooooooooo............" the carnal voice he emitted was primal in every sense. Lying in a pool of her own blood was Fartun. She held his gaze as he knelt beside her. "Call an ambulance dammit! Someone please call an ambulance...........give her space. Move! Move! Baby...........Xabibi you are going to be fine. Stay awake baby" Mohamed looked at Fartun trying to figure out where she was shot. He lifted her shirt and saw blood spurting from a hole near the edge of her ribs. Her hands reached out to Khadar as she struggled to breath. Her face had the parlor of death stealing over it. Mohamed pulled her up so she could lay on his lap. Khadar touched his mother's face in a playful manner. He pulled at his mother's nose as Fartun quietly smiled through her tears. She kissed Khadar's hands everytime they ventured past her lips. Mohamed couldn't bear looking at the scene any longer. He turned to ask if the ambulance had come even though he could hear the sirens as they drew near. He placed his hands over the hole to try to stem the flow of blood but he could still hear the gurgle of air escaping through the blood. He closed his eyes and prayed for the first time for someone other than him. He earnestly held his child in one hand as his wife's head lay on his lap. He asked and he pleaded and he bartered with God, hoping against all hope that his prayers would be answered. "Mohamed, its alright," whispered Fartun. Mohamed opened his eyes to see her smiling serenely at him. She extended her hands to him as she beckoned him to come closer. Mohamed shook his head side to side not ready to hear anything. He was not ready for her to leave. He had just found her. Fartun tried to raise up on her elbow but she fell back. Her eyes had tears yet she looked happy and at peace. It took Mohamed a minute before he realized that Fartun had breathed her last. Grabbing at her torso, Mohamed lay her on the floor. Setting Khadar on the side he started administering CPR. Everytime he breathed into her, the bubbles emerging from the hole increased. Mohamed lost count of how many minutes he kept pumping at her heart. He felt hands grabbing at him and he fought against them. She was not gone. Fartun was not gone. He could still save her. A needle pricked him and slowly the world dimmed to nothing.

The prologue to my book Inshallah

3udbi was playing outside when it happened. She heard the bloodcurdling screams start off at the edge of the village as it made its way towards her like waves crashing on the reef. At first she didn't know what to do. She stood with her head cocked towards the noises and her hands still holding on to her pebbles. After a few minutes she saw the smoke rising above the huts and she knew she had to go find her mother. Her feet barely touching the ground she bounded over stones and around trees as the sense of dread filled her little heart. 3udbi stood a few feet from the closest hut as she witnessed men with turbans around their heads setting it on fire. This didn't look good. She knew very well from the village legends that men with turbans around their heads came to take people away to Hell. She had to find her mother and little brother fast before they were taken to Hell. Skirting around the now burning hut she used a rugged path to get to her side of the village.3udbi skidded to a stop and out of breath by her neighbour's hut or at least where her neighour's hut used to be. Peeking around the now carcass of a hut, that was still smoking, she saw her mother's hut. It was burning with intensity as screams and wails come from within. Rushing forward towards the house without any forethought or precautions 3udbi had only one thought ringing in her head, "Hooyo needs me! She is crying for me!." Someone grabbed her as she got close enough to see the fire engulf the door. She kicked and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Hooyo...........alaa Hooyo. Hooyo macaanto...........Hooyo kadax bax. Hooyo! Hooyo! Hooyo!" Tears flowed from 3udbi's eyes as she clawed and kicked to be freed from her captor. Her mother was burning up in that hut and was calling for her. She knew she needed to be there for her. She needed to be with her mother even if it meant dying in that furnace with her. She watched as her home collapsed in on itself. She watched as the sounds of her mother's wail died and in its place was the hissing of the fire and absence of the voice that had lulled her to sleep many a night. 3udbi stopped fighting and crying as the blackened hut groaned its last. She knew it was over. She would never again see her mother and brother. They were gone . They had left her alone in this world with nothing. The wind whistled through the village carrying with it the smell of burnt flesh and palm trees but more profoundly it carried 3udbi's mother and brother away from her forever.


I had inspiration and encouragement from a lot of people during the past years and I finally decided I will pour my heart in a book and Inshallah may it be a work that will educate and entertain people. Let me know what you think of the prologue. This is just an excerpt of it.

Passage of Life

Khadija walked into the house from the class pissed due to the amount of homework she was laden with. Taking off her sneakers she made her way to the kitchen. No one was home by the looks of the empty burners. Opening the fridge she weighed her nutrional options. She could go for the left over lasagna, frozen fries or make an omelette. She instead reached for the ice cream bucket, milk and strawberries. Blending them together with strawberry syrup she left the dirty dishes in the sink and made her way to her room. Khadija eagerly turned on the computer and as she waited for it to boot up she took off her hijab infront of the mirror. She looked at the image staring back at her. There stood a 5 foot 5 inches woman with baby having hips and endowed chest & back wise. She glimpsed the rolls of fat hanging around her belly and turned away disgusted. She was fat just like everyone told her and should probably start working out. She looked at the glass of milkshake she just mixed and decided to put off her diet and workout for another day. She deserved this treat after the day she had.


The chime and pop ups of the messages on her IM let her know she was ready to go. She sat herself in her chair and proceeded to look at the list of people online. Going down the names in her Yahoo, MSN and AOL she didn't see who she was looking for. Starting up Paltalk she held her breath as she clicked the pop-ups closed. There he was; CheekyNSneaky. She hurried to type her hello and waited for a reply. After 10 mins when there wasn't a reply she tried to say something else and found out that she was unable to send any message to the person. She was blocked! Khadija's heart broke into pieces as her world fell apart. She sat there staring at the computer numbly unable to process what just happened.


Today was supposed to be a special day. CheekyNSneaky and her were supposed to meet up after months of chatting online. He was everything she ever dreamed of. He was handsome, smart, understanding and had a great sense of humour. He looked past the artifical layer and saw the beautiful swan in her. This had done wonders in boosting her self esteem and she loved him for it. She had dressed in her most figure enhancing outfit, had a pedicure, manicure and matched from her hijab to her black open toed sandals. Khadija was excited as she had parked infront of Caribou. She peered into the cafe but didn't see any somali male in there. She reassured herself that she was probably early and he was probably on CPT (Colored People's Time). She grabbed her purse and book and made her way into the store. Ordering Cafe Au Lait she picked a spot where she could see who walked in and still pretend to be engrossed in her book. For a few minutes she was nervous as she watched the minute hand make its rotation. This was silly something must have happened. Khadija finally to ally her fears picked her book and started reading it in earnest. At about half past the meeting hour a somali man walked in. He didn't look anything like the picture of CheekyNSneaky. He made his way to the counter and ordered his drink. While he was waiting he kept sneaking looks at Khadija. Thinking back now Khadija was pretty sure he was evaluating her. When his order was ready he walked out. After another 15 mins Khadija got up herself and disappointedly drove to her class.


Now Khadija got up from infront of her computer and sat on her bed. Tears started forming in her eyes and she brushed them aside. How could he? Was the man who walked in his friend who had negatively appraised her? Was it her weight? Was she not beautiful? He has seen her pic before and he had remarked that he didn't care for looks and what was inside was beautiful in his eyes. Khadija braced her knees to her body as she experienced what only some know as heartbreak. She vowed what many women before her have vowed; never to fall for the false charms of men anymore. Khadija now was an emotionally mature woman forever marked with this experience.

The hand that rocked the cradle

During the week I was home for spring break I spent a lot of time hanging out with my niece/nephew and younger siblings. I sat through the Disney "High School Musical" among other things and rewatched Harry Potter with them. One night as I sat on the couch with my little nephew on my lap laughing with his toothless mouth, I had an idea. Instead of watching TV (not that I was enjoying this) I was going to tell the younger ones a story. The more I thought about it the more I became certain that it would be more engaging than the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. I switched off the TV to the chagrin of the children and dimmed the lights in the living and dining room. I asked them to sit around me as I settled on the floor with the couch as my back support. I waited as the bodies shifted into positions and grumblings at this change of normalcy, finally quiet settled over us like a blanket, warm and enveloping.


There was once a wealthy man who had a big house and a big family to boot. He lived in the outskirts of town and was highly respected by his peers. The man's name was Hassan Burkenge. He was as tall as a telephone pole and as timid as a mouse. Most of the time people had to lean in close to listen to what he was saying. Hassan's wife was called Hawo. She was complete opposite of her husband. She was a proud Somali woman who used every opportunity to flaunt her wealth and her prestige. One day when Hawo was walking through the town center she came across the mayor's wife. This woman was in no means any more beautiful than she nor was she any more intelligent but yet she got more attention than Hawo wherever she went. Hawo was disturbed by this and went home in deep thought. As she walked by the fields her husband owned she mused that what was lacking was power and power she would get. Walking with more resolve she tracked her husband movements the whole day measuring him up for the position she intended him to occupy in the heirachy of power. She knew he would have to get a stronger voice, stand up straighter and most of all be ruthless. The task that lay ahead of her was astronomical but she knew she would rise to the challenge.


A week passed as our Hawo plotted and planned and finally she was ready to set her plan into action. That morning as she set breakfast infront of her husband she slipped something in his tea. She watched with eagle eyes as he gulped it down per usual. He was slow to get up but when he did she could have sworn he stood taller than before. His beady eyes shifted back and forth as if unsure of where he was. Hawo could have jumped with glee when he turned to her and in a harsh voice instructed her on what he wanted for lunch. Smiling to herself instead Hawo demurred and nodded her head in acknowledgement. She bowed her head lower as she came closer to her husband and in a whisper told him that his opulence was wasted in the fields and that he needed to step up to do what he was born to do;rule. Hassan listened to his wife and as his wife explained how they would go about it he smiled a devilish smile.

Within two days the weapons were ready. The machetes sharpened, the gun powder ready and the guns oiled down. Hawo stood back and admired her work. She knew soon she will be feared by all not to mention the power to make or break a person. Hassan lead his army to wage war against the town and took it over after two days of a siege. He was a ruthless ruler and he wasn't satisfied with only that town. Soon with his wife's prodding he slowly annexed the neighboring villages and towns. If the village or town opposed him vehemently he massacred them leaving the poor village bathed with blood and sorrow. Hawo enjoyed this man that she had molded into a great warlord. She enjoyed the fear she saw in the eyes of her peers when she walked past them. She reveled in this new life that she forgot what she had to do to get it.

A debt must be collected and when the time came the Devil was knocking on the door to collect. Hawo drunk with power ignored him telling him that there was no way she was going to give her youngest child to him. The devil warned her that she would have to face consequences to her breaking the deal but she laughed in his face. The next day when she awoke she found all of her children dead. She was distraught and yelled and stomped her feet. She cried and berated her misfortune but the Devil didn't show up. At the end Hawo went crazy as she had recollections of the masses that she had a hand in killing, the mothers who cursed her as they watched their men and children die and finally the villages she had delighted in razing to the ground. One night she awoke to her husband watching her. He asked her what drove her mad. Hawo cried while she relayed how she had entered a contract with the devil to make her husband the warlord he was. Her husband got up and came close to her, she clutched him closer to her and was shocked as she felt a knife piercing her back. She watched as the world dimmed out and the last thing she saw was the man she had molded;a cold hearted killer.

A Milestone

As of this moment I am a year older. I don't feel any different than I felt yesterday except more resolute to make sense out of life. I worked a nine hour shift at work and as I walked out the door my phone rung. It was my sister.

"Where are you?" she queried.
"Just getting out the door"
"You think you can make it to the theatre in half an hour?" she continued
"I am tired plus I need to go work out."
"Come on mayn, its your birthday and you worked all day. Skip the workout and come to the movie, I already got you a ticket."
"Aight I be der in a 10 mins with my flipping uniform"
"Salaams"

I turned on the car and waited for it to warm up. It was a dreary day perfect for my mood. It had snowed as I drove into the parking lot this morning which meant it was going to be a long day at the pharmacy. I had an awful night of weird dreams that consisted of a collage of men I held dear to my heart. I had tossed and turned, sweated and shivered as finally my alarm gave me reprieve sometime around 7 am. I was in no means in the mood to deal with guests who needed to be mothered. Grabbing a starbucks I begun my day quietly.

Backing out of the parking spot I turned the car West towards the Regal 20 theatre. I felt empty for some reason even though I had my health and my family by me. I turned my brain off as my exit came up. Calling my sister I let her know I was close by and she should avail herself by the doors. As I walked in my cuz popped out of the corner and gave me a hug and a kiss wishing me a happy birthday. She steered me away from my sister and asked me what I wanted to snack on while I watched the movie. I was on a diet and couldn't eat any carbs but I ordered nachos with cheese and jalapenos. Sitting back in my seat I took off my jacket and dipped my hand in the jalapenos. Knowing instinctively the bitter/spicy taste that they would elicit from me, my mouth watered. The movie I was being subjected to was Madea family reunion. I had watched the play and was interested to see what twist Tyler Perry in the movie.

The movie was funny as hell and had me slapping my thighs and clapping. At times I got emotional as the characters fell in love and revealed secrets close to their hearts. Pretty soon it was time to go. As I slipped my jacket on I flipped my phone open. There was a text message waiting for me. It read:

I breath alone, Allah willed me to.
My heart beats, Allah willed me to.
I thank Allah for I love you.
Lets marry and thank Allah for He is the most merciful and gracious.

My heart stilled. There was a whirlpool in my body and someone had turned on the switch. I walked quickly to the car wanting to outrun my life but I didn't succeed. It was stuck to me. As I watch the raindrops fall my fingers dialed the numbers that were burned into my heart, mind and soul. A groggy voice answered,"Hello?". My voice abandoned me. Why did I call? I tried with effort to say something back.. .............................. .... Hello, hi or something. Instead my body was racked with sobs. Tears welled up in my eyes as I fought for control. Why did you love me? Why do I love you so much yet can't make a simple decision like marrying you? Why am I a coward? Why can't you leave and find someone who deserves you? "Baby please wipe your tears I can't do them for you but you know if I was there I would kiss them away." You make everything right and I come and destroy it. What are you doing around such a destructive force? "Baby please I am begging you...........Where are you? Talk to me. Stop crying honey."I have to go, Xafsa is walking back to the car. "Baby talk to me. Are you ok? Where are you? Let me talk to Xafsa". I am fine I am sorry I woke you up I will talk to you tomorrow. "Ok I will call you in the morning please keep your phone close by otherwise you know I will hound you at home/Work/sister's/friend's". I will, I promise. "Salaams I love you". I don't. "I know you do". How do you know? "Cause I live in your heart. Drive safely back home." Ok.Salaams.

As I lay my head back I wiped my tears away and plastered a smile on my face. Xafsa clambered into the car and proceeded to talk about the movie. I faked my way through it, quick to point out my favorite scenes. Inside I was screaming for an answer to my problems but I knew no one was listening. No one at all.

Where does the buck stop?

The day looked long from the get go. Picking himself nimbly from his chair, Bashir moved towards the window. The buildings looked small from his stand point almost like a Lego set. He remembered the first time he had accepted his position. Standing at the precipice of greatness, he had requested the office that he now stood in. A person who walked in from the dark interior of the receptionist office would be greeted with a regal view of the Manhattan skyline. From his pinnacle he could see the many color changes that the Seagram building took, the elegance of Chrysler building and off course his favorite hang out the Rockefeller center. Bashir mused as he looked to the horizon for an answer to the restlessness that permeated his very being today. As he lost himself in his own world he thought he saw an answer emerging from the smog that constantly hung around the city. He could see it take form and as he reached out to grasp it, the phone rung! Illusion dissipating, Bashir turned crossly to his desk. He remembered acutely telling Suzon that he didn’t want any interruptions.

“I thought I said no interruptions!” He snapped.
“Oo maxaa dhacee?” replied the demure voice of a female.
“Oh its you.”
“Were you expecting someone else?” She asked.
“No, I am just busy and wasn’t expecting any interruptions.”
“Ok. I guess I best get back to being ‘unbusy’.” She retorted and hung up.


Bashir couldn’t be bothered today. He didn’t feel like dealing with anyone especially not her. Things have been strained between them for the past month and maybe she might be part of his restless nature today. He sat back down on his desk and set about drowning in his tasks. Bashir methodically struck each task off his list as the day went. “I am off, is there anything else you needed before I leave?” asked Suzon as she stuck her head through his door. “No thanks,” said Bashir grumpily. Suzon smiled and closed the door gently behind her. She didn’t know what was eating him today but whatever it was, she was just happy to get out of his hair. Bashir sat back in his chair and weighed his options. Should he go back to the house or call up Farax and go get something to eat? Reaching out his long fingers, he dialed Farax’s number. There were five rings, after which Farax’s aussie accent informed him that he should leave a message. Hanging up Bashir got on his feet and put on his jacket. On his way down to the building garage he went through the pleasantries of saying bye to the few workers who were burning the midnight candle. Unlocking his new Aspen Chrysler he threw his jacket and bag in the seat next to him. Popping in his Maxwell CD he leaned his head back on the seat. Why did he feel so out of sorts today? Shaking his head to dislodge the pessimistic thoughts he gunned his engine.

The traffic wasn’t snarled as it usually is but that was probably due to the four day weekend starting today. Most people had already set out earlier during the day for their road trips. He was partly envious that he couldn’t just up and leave anymore. He had things and people depending on him and so he was chained to this city. Bashir turned into the driveway and opened the garage door with his remote. Grabbing his bag and jacket he made his way to the kitchen. Something smelled nice as he took off his shoes. As he set his jacket on the kitchen hook and his bag on the floor he stepped onto the kitchen floor but instead of cold linoleum he felt a soft sensation. Reaching over to turn on the lights he heard the soft notes of Azyet playing. That’s weird he didn’t remember leaving the surround system on. Curious he didn’t turn on the light instead he walked cautiously into the house. As he walked by the dining room he saw the table set as usual except this time there was a feast on the table and candles around it. Curiosity completely piqued he rounded the corner to the bedroom. The bedroom has soft lights and candles all over. There were rose petals on the bed and floor and on his bed there was his robe with a note attached that there was a surprise waiting for him in the bathroom.

Bashir recognized the writing to be that of Amal. The cursive B of his name was unmistakable. He climbed out of his clothes and wrapped the robe around his slim waist. Walking tentatively to the bathroom he saw the bathtub was full of bubbles and the sweet intoxicating smell of lavender and jasmine hung in the air. Barry white’s baritone voice serenaded the candle light to perform a dance that enticed his visual senses. Smiling to himself, Bashir climbed into the tub. The water temperature was perfect and on the side of the tub sat his cigar, ashtray and cigar clipper but no lighter. Just as he was about to climb out of his tub to get the lighter he heard before he saw the flicker of the lighter. Amal’s face radiated as she watched him puff life into his cigar. She then lay a small kiss on his forehead and told him that she is going to warm up dinner while he relaxes in his bath. Laying back into the bathtub Bashir forgot all his worries of his day. This was certainly a nice surprise. Amal was on residency rotation at the Mt. Sinai hospital and rarely came home these past nights. They had been married for one year and the past month had being rocky due mainly to her being busy with her career.

As his body relaxed, Bashir reminisced about the day of their marriage. Amal had being adamant about not getting married in a huge ceremony but Bashir had seen through her excuses. He had gone ahead and done all the preparations and on that fateful day Amal had being unavailable. Everyone was in on the hoax and when her cousins had gone to pick her up she was not at her apartment. Bashir had begun to get worried when at 6 pm there still was no one picking up her cell phone. Calling the police he had being informed that maybe he should wait 24 hours before calling in the calvary. The police assured him that Amal had probably got cold feet. Bashir was worried sick and the whole affair was cancelled. He had roamed the streets by her apartment, had called Mt. Sinai and eventually he just sat at her apartment stoop waiting in the cold. Around midnight Amal had calmly walked up to the apartment only to be shocked to see Bashir asleep on her stoop. She shook him awake anxious to know what made him sleep on her stoop. Bashir remembered hugging her tightly and close to him scared that he was dreaming. He remembered planting kisses all over her face saying over and over that she should never go too far from him. Amal calmly took him into the apartment and explained that she had gone to visit an old friend who was dying and that she had left her cell phone at home since she was awaken from sleep by her friend’s family member. When she heard what Bashir wanted to do that day she felt so bad that she called the sheikh’s number and woke him from sleep telling him it was an emergency. She had then proceeded to get dressed in a beautiful gold dirac and wore simple jewelry. Taking his hands she drove through the streets to the sheikh’s house. There at precisely 1:20 am they were married in the eyes of God.


Bashir never regretted marrying her. She was always there for him. Tonight she obviously had left her work to be with him. She always put him ahead of most things and he had gotten used to it. The past month he had been acting like a spoilt brat because for once she let her work play a bigger role in her life. He couldn’t blame her though. She had worked hard to be where she was. She was a smart woman among her other attributes. As he climbed out of the tepid water, Bashir walked towards the dining room. He stood at the doorway looking at her as she flitted between the kitchen and dining room laying the dishes down on the table. She looked up as she made another trip to the kitchen and smiled. Bashir sat at the table and waited like a child to be told to eat. Amal sat by him and proceeded to serve him when Bashir stopped her. He held her hands and planted a soft kiss on her wrist and thanked her for being his wife. He apologized for being difficult at which point she shushed him and told him not to worry. They had both let things come in between their marriage. She placed her hand lovingly on his face and told him to just relax and forget about his worries at least for tonight. Tonight it was all about him and her……………………

Chance meeting

Mohamed moved his pool stick in line with the cue ball as he calculated the angle to hit the ball and put his friend Salim out of his misery. Executing his shot perfectly he turned to his friend with a grin plastered on his face. “Man, I told you ……….you can't beat this,” He said as he presented himself with flourish. “Bugger off mate!” snarled Salim. Mohamed and Salim have been friends since standard two and they were forever trying to best each other. Come to think of it, Mohamed recalled those were the very circumstances under which they forged their friendship. Salim and he were the only two contestants from their school left in the state swimming championship. Mohamed had won the race by a stroke and Salim had thrown a tantrum till Mohamed had gone over and handed his trophy to him saying he had being a good competitor. The rest shall we say was history. Looking quickly at his watch, Salim turned to Mohamed to take his leave.

“What you up to after this?” asked Salim.
“Nothing man, just gonna go kick back in the crib and work on my coursework. Why you asking?” came the reply.
“You want to help me out. I got to go over to Ealing and deal with this thing,”said Salim whilst cocking his head. This usually meant one thing to Mohamed. It meant there was more to the story than Salim was willing to let on.
“Sure man,” agreed Mohamed.


As they drove towards their destination, Mohamed mused as to what was Salim up to. He normally would badger him till he got the information but this time he sensed there was something else. They talked about school and women, their two favorite topics. Salim as usual was the more level headed one. He had being married now for 6 months and he believed he was an expert in the field. Mohamed didn’t think he would ever be able to take that step. He liked the way his life was. He had choices and there is nothing more a black person likes than a buffet. Salim parked the car next to a beautiful house with an even more beautiful garden. It looked like Mother Nature was in full swing in this part of the world. Following Salim to the door, Mohamed wondered who lived in the house and what they were doing there. “Salaam Aleykum Fartun,” greeted Salim as he was beckoned into the house. Mohamed looked up to greet their host but his words got lodged in his throat.

She stood tall for a woman. Her eyes were set apart with a short cute button nose in between it. Her lips were the color of tarty pink grapefruit. She was wearing a turquoise colored dirac and her figure was admirable. She stared at Mohamed as she moved to close the door. She recognized him……….darn it, thought Mohamed. Salim who hadn’t noticed the interchange of looks between them, walked on into the living room. The house suddenly erupted in screams and giggles as two girls ran to hug Salim’s legs. Mohamed kept his distance from the scene completely unsure of what was happening. Who was this woman to Salim for that matter who were these kids to Salim? Fartun walked past him to usher the kids into the living room all the while apologizing for the mess the house was in. Salim sat back in one of the ottoman chairs as the kids swarmed around him, asking him question after question. Mohamed sat across from his friend aghast at what he was seeing and trepidation set in. Would she tell Salim they had met before? Was this Salim’s other woman? Sensing his friend’s gaze on him Salim looked up, “I guess I owe you an explaination.”


Fartun was his sister in law. He came over to check up on her once a week and more recently every couple days. She was a mother to the two girls and a wife to a man who didn’t deserve her. Her husband practically lived next door at his mother’s house and never came to see her or the kids. He didn’t provide for her except paying for the bills. Her fridge was constantly empty and she had resorted to selling her gold to feed her kids. Her sister (Salim’s wife) has asked Salim to look into her sister every week and help out. They were in the process of getting Fartun freed from her marriage. It was a sad case and Mohamed had a new found respect for this tall woman. Fartun played the gracious host keeping up the small talk and fixing them tea and biscuits. Her children, Kamar and Kay, were excited at the prospect of having two men to play with. They seemed to lack male presence in their life and Mohamed could empathize. After half an hour or so Salim asked Fartun for her grocery list and told her that Mohamed and him will follow her list to the letter and even arrange it in her cupboards. Fartun smiled and told him that she likes to touch and pick her own vegetables; she couldn’t trust a man to do that for her. They reached a consensus. Mohamed would take her to the grocery store while Salim babysat the girls. This proved to be agreeable to all parties except Mohamed but he didn’t voice his opposition due to curiosity taking priority.

As Mohamed got out of the parking spot with Fartun as a passenger, he noticed she was wringing her fingers on her lap. Her fingers were long and delicate with barely any jewelry to accentuate her beauty. Mohamed remembered the first time he saw her. He thought she was an apparition from his dreams. She was walking away from the goldsmith and seemed to be preoccupied with her own thoughts. Mohamed being the masterful charmer sidled close to her. He introduced himself exclaiming that he couldn’t help but to notice that she was sent to earth to torment his very soul. He put on his best show and all she did was blink fixatedly at him. “I’m sorry you must have me confused with someone else. I am a single mother with mouths of children to feed and no time to waste on a romp in the sac plus I have a feeling you wouldn’t know what to do with a real woman if she fell on your lap,” said she stiffly as she turned on her heel and left him with his mouth agape. Mohamed had never being turned down by a woman yet and this left him bare. He had consoled himself saying that she was a single mother anyway what good was she. Another man had her and deemed her unworthy. Women these days!

Thinking back to that day Mohamed felt awful for thinking all those thoughts about her. The silence in the car spoke volumes and pretty soon Mohamed was sure it would rise to a crescendo. Turning on the CD he selected track number three on the mix CD. Craig David’s sultry voice filled the car as he talked of not missing your water till the well runs dry. Almost inaudible she started humming to the tune and Mohamed joined in with lyrics. After a couple minutes Fartun jumped in too and they sang the song till the end. When the track ended they laughed and the ice was broken. Fartun apologized for being rude to him in the streets and Mohamed apologized for hitting on her but that he meant the compliments wholeheartedly. The conversation flowed like a spring bubbling over rocks that pretty soon Fartun confided her life story to Mohamed. How she had married her husband because her mother had asked it of her. How he was an inconsiderate oaf that lets his mother control his finances and when she questioned this he had called her uneducated and a burden. That was the beginning of the split and it practically went downhill after that. Mohamed kept silent through her tale and didn’t say anything in response for he didn’t feel it was his place to say anything. They did the shopping and got done within half an hour. Within that time frame Fartun got to know Mohamed and vice versa. It felt so natural to talk to her and no topic seemed off limits for them. Mohamed was almost sad when he turned into her driveway. Mohamed grabbed the heavy bags and set out for the kitchen. Salim helped Mohamed as Fartun got the girls ready for bed.

Mohamed commended his friend for his kindness and told him that he would like to help. Salim looked at him in surprise and smiled. He knew his friend a little too well. He knew Mohamed was taken by Fartun and he couldn’t blame him. She was a smart, funny, kind and had a heart of gold. Any man would be lucky to have her. Fartun walked in before he could ask Mohamed what he thought of Fartun’s situation. She thanked them both and invited them to stay over for dinner. They both declined the invitation and begged off to go attend to their own lives. Mohamed walked out with Salim and as he walked by Fartun he handed her a slip of paper with his number. Salim saw the exchange in the corner of his eyes and pretended to busy himself with turning the car on. During the drive back to the pool hall to pick up Mohamed’s car Salim talked about everything but Fartun. Mohamed on the other hand thought about nothing but Fartun. He was perplexed as to why he gave her his number. He usually made it a rule not to deal with women who had children. But Fartun was a different sort of woman with her there were no boundaries, he could envision things he could do for her and to her………………………………

How can a man be so cold?

He walked towards her with a menacing look in his eyes. Nafisa braced for the worst. She got into the fetal position just as he started pounding on her back. He was merciless, calling her names and blaming her for everything. “Please, stop I am sorry, I am sorry. I won’t do it again. Please, I love you baby,” Nafisa begged as she prayed that this time he will relent. After about 20 mins he stepped back from her like an artist stepping back from his masterpiece. Nafisa didn’t move in fear that it would provoke him. She cowered and tried to keep her sniffles as silent as she could. There were no tears present in her eyes; she had finished shedding them a few years back. His eyes raked over her body as he spit on her and walked out.


Nafisa waited a few minutes after she heard him close the door to their room before she moved. She crawled on all her fours towards the adjacent bathroom in her daughter’s room. Closing the door silently behind her she pulled herself up. Her eyes were swollen to the size of kiwis, her lips were bleeding and not to mention the bruises evident under her tanktop. She stared back at the woman in the mirror. Her eyes were dead; fitting for a punching bag she thought. She proceeded to wash her face and cleaning herself. She had to go pick up Salma from her friend and she didn’t want to hear another lecture about leaving Awil. He was the only man who loved her. If she left, where would she go? No man out there would want to be saddled with another man’s child not to mention Awil would never let her leave. He would rather kill her than see her leave. It was fear and stability that chained her to her situation.

Driving up to Kadra’s house she double-checked her face in the rear-view mirror. She looked passable except for the swollen eyes which she can explain were due to no sleep and crying. She was sure she could cruise through the questioning by claiming a death in the family. As Nafisa walked up to the door she heard shrieks of laughter coming from the living room. The curtains were partly drawn so she could see the scenario being played out in the house. Salma was being chased around by Abdirahman, Kadra’s husband, as Kadra kept coxing both of them to stop horsing around and come get dinner. Abdirahman kept making cute scary sounds that sent Salma into shrieks of laughter. Kadra didn’t have any children. She and Abdirahman had been married for four years which was as long as Nafisa and Awil, but they were unable to have any children. Nafisa stood by the window looking in at the image of a perfect family and she felt a knot in her throat. Looking away she walked to the front of the door and sat down on the steps. What was she doing? Salma deserved a family that was loving and caring not constantly seeing her being beaten up by Awil. Nafisa sat there at the doorstep for a good half hour as she listened to the laughter and conversation going on in the house. As she got up she knew what to do……………………

Confessions of girl's night out

Saludiin sat staring at the picture that sat in front of him. Even with his eyes closed he could describe it in detail. The proud nose, the blazing brown eyes, the shaped eyebrows and off course those lips that he fell madly in love with the first time he saw them. He closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him. Life was unfair and more so to him than anyone out there.


"I have a confession Saludiin, can you please sit down and listen," came the request from her lips. He remembered the day clearly. They had made reservations at La Bouche and were going to a jazz concert after. She looked extra beautiful that day. Her soft, black hair was in layers cascading down her back. She wore a simple black dress with a metallic coin belt enveloping her wide hips. She looked seriously at him with her almond eyes and patted the sit next to her. Saludiin sat down obediently taking her hands in his to reassure her that nothing she said would matter to him. Then the tale begun.


Sally had invited her to visit an old friend who had just gotten a new position at his job. Dressed modestly she picked Sally up and following the directions had driven up to a cul de sac tucked away at the base of the hilly suburb. It looked beautiful with stuccato tiles and warm colors to accent the spanish influence in the country. Walking in after Sally, she had extended her hands in greeting to the tall man standing in the foyer. He looked like he had stepped out of the GQ magazine and spoke with a slight accent as he introduced himself as Fredrick Klaus. The small talk was easily accomplished as they were served appetizers in the drawing room. Mr Klaus was apparently a bio-engineer who had to work hard in his life to get where he is. He came from a poor background and was the first in his family to get a college degree. He was forever determined never to go back to the poverty that had littered his childhood. She didn't think he ever would because he had a ruthless look in his eyes. It gave her the chills. The eyes told a lot about the soul they belonged to. Mr. Klaus, even though, looked and seemed charming and kind, she didn't doubt that he would turn to whole other person when crossed.


As they got called into dinner, Sally and her sat on opposite sides of the table each on one side of their kind host. The evening progressed well and Sally kept downing the wine spritzers. Pretty soon she was drunk and was in no condition to go anywhere. Mr. Klaus dismissed his staff for the evening and set out to clear out the table himself. She felt awkward with her friend laying on the couch in a drunk stupor. She got up and graciously helped Mr. Klaus to clear the table. Following his straight, ramrod back into the kitchen, she set out to figure out which cabinet door was the dishwasher. Mr. Klaus continued picking the dishes and bringing them back to the kitchen. On the third run as he walked into the kitchen with the last of dishes he brushed by her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved instinctively. He didn't seem to notice what he did because he pointed out a cabinet door at the far corner of the kitchen as the dishwasher. She proceeded to load up the dishwasher as he cleared the food off the plates and placed food items in the fridge. He must have gotten done with his task much faster than she thought because next thing she felt were hands placed on each side of her hips. She stopped loading the dishwasher and turned around to face a grinning Mr. Klaus. He spoke of how he had being watching her the whole night and that he was attracted to her. She tried to gauge how far the exit was from her standpoint but couldn't see over or even around Mr. Klaus. Fredrick kept moving closer to her until her back was pressed into the side of the cabinets. He let his hands caress the sides of her arms as he exclaimed and ahhhhed on how soft she felt. Her heart was pounding and her breath slowed to almost a stop. She explained that she was engaged to someone and that she was not interested in him. She also apologized if she give him any ideas during the evening. He leaned close to her and cupped her face in his hands. She turned her face to the side and Fredrick kissed her cheek gently. He then stepped back and gave her space to escape.


She now sat staring at Saludiin. Her tale was over. During the tale Saludiin let go of her hands, the hands he had so lovingly held a few minutes ago. He got up from the chair and started pacing. He couldn't understand why these things happen to her all the time. This was not the first time. Is it something she does? Is it something she says? He couldn't help but to blame her. He had never had these problems with his previous girls. She was so beautiful on the outside but her inside was what pulled everyone to her. She was sweet and considerate. She loved helping people and was so social. These traits made her a gem but they also got her in spots of trouble. He couldn't be around her. He needed to think. He watched her face crumple as he told her what he thought of the situation. He watched as tears threatned to spill over as he told her that no man would do anything sexually oriented without being given a physical/verbal/emotional go ahead. He apologized for canceling the evening on the account of feeling unwell and he walked out.


Saludiin now thought about her. He knew he hurt her but what she told him hurt him more. He couldn't bare to be without her but he had to find a way to understand why men do things like that around her. He didn't want to punch a guy for looking at her everytime they went out but the way things were going he was going to have to. He didn't know what to do. He prayed he would find a solution soon because he knew she was too precious to let go. He picked up his phone and dialled a number...............................