aimahabib

[aimahabib]

All the failed attempts you made

to understand life interrupted by

the knock on the door.

A text on your phone.

A hello from a familiar voice.

You stop trying to understand life anymore.

You meet a friend over a coffee

you haven’t seen in a long time.

You see them and the tone of your voice changes and you don’t realise it.

You find your answers blended in

Every sip of your coffee,

You both do.

You both understand but don’t talk about it,

Like a family secret.

You tell them about how you almost died

in a car accident last week

and brown is no more your favourite colour.

That evening you know of no grief.

You laugh at the jokes

before the punch line

and create your own little world

where the woes of the world

haven’t reached out to you yet.

You pay the bill and leave.

The way back home isn’t tiring that night.

You hope of seeing each other again

Because you know if your whole world went up in flames,

conversations held in between the sips of your coffee with an old friend will always save you.

-Aima Habib, Between The Sips

[aimahabib]

The pattern of the main door always felt like a doorway towards a different world. When did I last leave through this door as a child? Who was when I entered through it the next time?

-Aima Habib, “Conversations With Childhood Home”

[aimahabib]

A secret. I once broke my brother’s new toy, and hid it behind the curtains. “Where do you hide all your faults now?”

-Aima Habib, “Conversations With Childhood Home”

[aimahabib]

I imagine our whispered tales still lingering in the corridor. The one about how my school teacher was invited to ghost’s wedding. Years later I realised it was all made up. “you understand now, why do they narrate fake tales to the children?”

-Aima Habib, “Conversations with childhood home”

[aimahabib]

There’s a tree I always thought was haunted. No more. I stare and stare and stare at it. I don’t turn around when I’m called from behind. For once, I feel unfamiliar with my own name. “Haunted where? In my branches, my roots? Where else is it haunted now? Inside you?”

-Aima Habib, Conversations With Childhood Home

[aimahabib]

I can recall that day. This wall. “Look at the miss spelled words you wrote on my surface. What was the last harmless mistake you made?”

-Aima Habib, Conversations With Childhood Home