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Mamahood

Perhaps the beauty of mamahood is that one never does have enough peace of mind or just peace enough to ever write about it. The chaos of folding laundry over and over, picking up bottles, washing bottles, filling up bottles, warming up bottles, picking up toys, playing with toys, cooking, cleaning, reading the same cardboard books over and over, incessant planning, non-stop worrying, completing a Masters, working on a citizenship application, soothing a sick baby who caught a cold at his swimming lesson, taking baby to his swimming lessons every week, physical therapy for the yet-to-be-healed body from birth, trying to keep up with the remnants of a long-past social circle, evolving into new person oneself, 

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When I was fourteen, we learnt about five-year administrative plans in social studies. They are the plans that governments make to keep the countries on track short-term. I thought if it can work for a nations life, it can also work for an individual's life. I was a big fan of one=many, individual=nation philosophy at that time. My journals from that phase are full of such theories. So in the summer of 2005, I wrote my first five-year plan. I then divided it into yearly goals, then monthly goals and then weekly and so on. I achieved most of the things. The plan had worked. On my 20th birthday, I wrote my second five-year plan. Having seen results the first time, I was more motivated this time and better at setting goals (all that about language and achievability...the whole shebang). Tomorrow is my twenty-fourth birthday. And I am nowhere close achieving anything I had planned to. Basically I have nothing to how for all the investment (of time, effort and money) made fo...
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Mouse King

 I miss Busboys and poets. I miss Community forklift. I miss watching local theater plays at the Silver Spring theater. Except I was no more lost now than I was then. That sentence sounds ominous. I am almost 31 weeks pregnant. Or perhaps 32 based on what the measurements were at my last exam. I finally had an exam after months. Yesterday was the glucose test. Weeks after it was supposed to be. Supposed to be's, should be's, could've been...yada yada yada. I miss DC. Home of my heart. I even miss Maryland. I miss me. The carefree me. I mean, I wouldn't describe life before marriage to be that, but there was a glow in the days before I tethered myself to a man, supposedly for life. Life. Married for life. That's what I thought I was. Guess I thought wrong.  I don't miss it. Or him. Alhumdulillah that's a blessing. I don't think I never will. I am afraid it'll hit me in one large wave once the nastiness of this divorce is over. Like a complete washout....
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Anas

  I run outside my breath, a gasp. My feet stop, in shock. The moon is full tonight. A breeze slides over my skin. The tide… still crashes on the shore. I try to breathe. I can’t. How has the time not stopped… tonight? I go to the sea. We sit. We wonder. We reminisce. We wonder how many school lunches they spent to fell… a man of his might. The sea takes me in her arms, whispers words of comfort just as meaningless tonight as they have been, for years. He was a man I never met, but with all the pride, and ferocity, of a sister I call him my brother. He was a man I mourn tonight, as the sea’s waves lap at my feet. Blanketed by the dark, there is no one around. I wish I could drown, that the sea will swallow me whole. I feel helpless. The weight of the world… is heavy tonight. I give charity in his name. I pray for him. I hold him in my heart. Every tear that falls from my eyes carries his name, like a cherished pearl. Morning takes me by surprise. ...
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