thewritingpanda

[thewritingpanda]

استيقظ...أنه صباح يوم جديد، أنت تعلم ما يجب عليك فعله. نفس الشئ الذي تفعله كل يوم. أنا لا أتحدث عن أساسيات الحياة والأكل والشرب، بل أتحدث عن حياتك التي تشبه حلقة السباق الذي لا ينتهي، كلما وصلت إلى خط النهاية تبدأ من الصفر... أليس كذلك؟ لا تبكي، امسح دموعك التي تعلمت أن تخفيها عن العالم بأصابعك النحيفة التي تصلبت من قلة الاهتمام... تمامًا مثل قلبك. هدفك؟ البحث عن السعادة بكل تأكيد، لكن كيف وأنت لا تدري ما هي؟ هل يكمن مضمونها في نجاح؟ هنيئًا لك، أنت ناجح ولكنك بائس. هل تبحث عن الاهتمام؟ الجميع حولك يحبك ولكن قلبك لا يزال ثابت في مكانه لا يتحرك ولا يأبه. هل هو الحب؟ دائمًا يفنى والجميع يرحل فلا تعلق آمالك عليه يا عزيزي. هل أغير لك السؤال؟ كيف وصلت إلى هذا الحال؟ كيف أصبحت ما كنت تقول عليه يومًا محال وإن ضاقت بك الدنيا فلن تخضع لغضبك وكرهك؟ أنا أعلم شئ أو اثنين عن ما تمر به، كنت على قمة عالمي وكأنها قمة أعلى جبل، أكاد أقسم أن لا شئ كان يستطيع أن يمسني أو يؤذيني وقتها، بالطبع هذا ليس ما حدث...انهار الجبل وأنا فوقه حتى أصبحت تحته مردوم بالحجارة ولا أستطيع التنفس! هذه ليست قصة بطل خارق فلا تظن أن يدي ظهرت فجأةً من تحت الأنقاض واستطعت الهرب، لا أنا ما زلت عالق تحت جبلي، أنا مازلت تائه في بنات أفكاري، مازلت لا أعلم لماذا لا أشعر سوى بما تشعر به. الحديث قد يطول على ما كل ما هو مشترك بيني وبينك، في النهاية أنا وأنت نفس الشخص. لكن عليك الاستيقاظ لفعل نفس الشيء في يوم آخر حتى تخدر نفسك... "Tranquil" piece by Myself Artwork by @yousra.sheded #writing #writersofinstagram #writer #art #artistsoninstagram #artist #artistsofinstagram #artist #artistic #artistsoninstagram #sketch #word #wordsofwisdom #words #feelings #tranquility https://www.instagram.com/p/B9cTkE8HmZp/?igshid=1nfcjpprvk97w

[thewritingpanda]

Civil War

Most of us have a daily morning routine that includes a cup of coffee to start the day. I have the same one, only at night. I sit on this lonely chair in the balcony every single night, there is not much difference between me and the chair, we both sit in the corner and do nothing. My coffee mug is usually there, you know the one I was gifted. I used to drink coffee with milk, now though I prefer it blacker than the night sky without a hint of sugar in it, I just want to taste the bitterness from the moment I sip to the moment it runs down my stomach like the start of rain.

Speaking of rain, I sit there watching the clouds hoping that the sky would rain, and if it didn't, I make shapes out of them. When the sky is clear, I watch the stars and try to connect them to make shapes, to make sense of them, just like I try with my life. And when the moon is full, I talk to it and tell it stories of how I was once full before but I start fading away slowly just like it does, only envying it because it returns monthly even when it diminishes. When all the friends in the sky are not there, the black remains in the sky as a reminder. Their words ring in my head like a suicide hotline, never ending. It starts with the "I love you"s and "we care" and slowly goes down to the broken promises of never leaving that were never really kept. How it ends? With the "sorry"s and "it's for the best"s...go on tell them you love them "you are lying" the will say, tell them you miss them or you are not okay "you are overdoing it". I might have heard it all before, but I keep hearing everything again, and again, and again!

So we have a man who is slowly Fading away, never forgets, but does he forgive? Well, I used to but not anymore. I am slowly giving myself away to my darker side, the one I hate the most, the one that if you knew me you'd know isn't me. That's not the sad part; the sad part is I accept it and I actually like it, I long for it, I want it. I let the anger and grief fuel my rage and transform me into what I cannot and should not be. I start wishing them pain instead of wishing them wellness and happiness...and yet I don't dare to blame them for what I have become. This civil war inside my head is raging between the good side and the bad side as I sit in between them. The war rages on between the two sides as I sit like a frightened child in the middle with my head between my legs, hands over ears, crying. I am sorry that I am broken more ways than you can imagine, but am I sorry for what I have become? I honestly don't know. I am not gonna tell you that the absolute truth is to harness an attitude of "screw everything" and that everyone is bad, I never said they were bad. I will however tell you the inevitable truth, the one that stabs you in the heart like a spear amid a civil war you have nothing to do with, and when you fall and hit the ground, they won't stop the fighting, to them you are not there, you are nothing but another casualty.....the inevitable truth is that everyone leaves in the end but the war, the war never stops, it never changes. The balcony door opens as I snap back to reality, my coffee is no longer there but the tears in my eye remain.

"Are you okay?"

For a moment the war in my head stops. I look up without a single expression on my face "I am fine"

The door closes, my head hangs low again like it's chained to something heavy dragging it down. The war continues with no side winning, yet somehow I am lost in between losing.

[thewritingpanda]

A Simple Equation

What’s my name? Andrew. For those of you who know me, you know that when my mind is set on something I do everything I can to achieve it, I never take no for an answer, I never take failure for an excuse…a challenger. I may have not chosen my name, my nationality, or my upbringing but they were all decisive factors in shaping my personality. The irony of it all is you are supposed to be born free, with no sin, but as a Christian, this wasn’t my case. I had to put up with the guilt of my predecessors until I was baptized in the name of Jesus. You might think to yourself “well, that’s not too bad, you probably got your sins washed away after a couple of weeks” and you are right, but as I grew up I realized it slowly started taking its toll on me. You did a mistake? Remember that you were born a sinner. It all started piling up on me as I grew older, I became a big pile of emotions. This is where I started drifting off into my own believe, why? I was seeking freedom. Freedom of mind, freedom of choice, freedom of speech, simply….freedom. Society didn’t help, those around me didn’t either. The barriers and obstacles kept on falling on my path like rain in December, no way to run, no way to hide, no shelter, if I was going to go through with this, the challenger in me needed to rise, and so he did.

For years I’ve been searching for my freedom, looking around me everywhere. I couldn’t even define freedom! Was freedom in a person? A place? Something you love? A belief? I kept on searching and asking but I didn’t search where it matters…inside myself. You see, I have come to the realization that freedom is whatever you wanted it to be, it comes from the inside. Some of us are free when they are travelling the world, some are free when they do something they love, some are free being with someone they love, some are free when they truly believe, but I, I was free in doing all of these things. I have hit rock bottom more times than I could count, I cried more than I ever did in my life, but I kept on pushing knowing that at the end of the storm there is a silver line and no matter what happens, it will all be okay. Now this attitude wasn’t just a giddy feeling, it was faith in God that he shall guide me exactly where he wanted me. And so I found my new belief, I was reborn. The questions remained, what is the price of freedom. Well, it’s a pretty simple equation: You+Freedom=Hardships. Trust me, you will lose, you will be beaten, bruised, you won’t be able to carry on anymore. But once you turn to God in prayer and ask for mercy, he grants you patience, strength, and most importantly renewed faith.

I lost my family just because my society dictates it, now some of you may think that I am stupid to talk so openly about my newly found faith, and you are right. But those who truly know me, know that I am a bad liar and I always choose to say the truth. It’s been a journey of years that lead me to this and I didn’t want to waste another moment breathing pretending to be someone I am not to please my family or anybody else, I longed for freedom. Nights spent alone in my car, insomnia, continuous prayers, it all came down to one moment of truth, the moment where my father confronted me. Let me tell you something about my father, he is the best man out there. I always strived to be half the man he is, without him being my role model, I wouldn’t have sought freedom and searched for answers. However, on that night, grief and anger got the best of him. An hour and a half of continuous shouting and screaming were fine by me, what wasn’t fine is the cursing and wishing I was dead. The irony of it all, when he was done he looked me in the eye and said “love will prevail, I know it will”. So what love was he talking about? Me dying? Choosing not to accept your own son because your own belief dictates it? I am sorry I was not the best son, and I am so very sorry for not being the best man, but I am never going to be sorry for seeking my freedom.

I got kicked out of home, told to never return unless I change my mind. I am currently sleeping on the floor but my mind, my heart, and my soul are at peace with what I have reached. Is my test done yet? No, it’s far from over. Am I giving up on my family or the people I love? Absolutely not. It really is a simple equation, should you choose to seek freedom, and you bear the consequences. The paved road you were born on and told to walk might be easy, but it isn’t as pleasing or rewarding as choosing your own windy road. In order to gain, you need to lose, you need to humble yourself in prayer and be patient, and you need to have faith in the creator. This test is far from over. For those of you who don’t know me, when I set my mind on something, I never quit till I reach it. Imagine setting my heart on something, I don’t think I will ever stop striving and trying. I guess you can says I am no longer just a challenger, but also a believer. So ask me again, what’s my name? My name is Adam, and this is where my story begins.

[thewritingpanda]

A Simple Reminder

A simple reminder, if you have the ability to inspire and empower; give into it, regardless of what others say, don’t expect something in return….just give into it.

For those of you who know me, you know I am a helpful person who thinks one of the purposes of life is to help others. However, I have been doing it wrong for quite a while before I discovered the truth behind it. I used to help others expecting help and love in return, I used to strive and seek acceptance of social groups because I didn’t fit in. I was the agnostic dude who is always laughing and making everyone around him happy, I was the one always helping and talking freely, but when the shit hit the fan and no one was around, I had nothing….absolutely nothing. And so this void inside of me I had kept at bay through socializing kept getting bigger and bigger, leaving me emptier every single time it did. God knows how many times I’ve cried waiting for someone pick me up off the floor, cuddle me and put my mind and heart at ease. Someone to tell me that “everything is going to be alright”, at the time, that someone never came. Now though, it is not someone, it is the maker himself. I have learned to embrace who I am, never expect anything from anyone and just be my absolute self. I have learned that I am one of the most challenging characters that you could ever meet, and I kept myself at bay for so long just trying to please everyone around. Those I hold dearest couldn’t see that, so now I ask myself the question, how many of you truly know me? Only a handful, and one in particular. I’ve been let down countless numbers of times, more than you can imagine. However, the biggest let down I’ve ever been through was me letting myself down. Every time I felt betrayed, angry, and bitter, I didn’t strive, I didn’t do anything about it, I didn’t search for my faith or myself. Now however, I am ready to challenge, I am ready to strive, and I am coming back for those I hold dearest in life. You haven’t seen this part of me, you don’t know my full potential, you haven’t seen me striving for purpose, goals, and loved ones. And so I tell myself a simple reminder every day; if I have the ability to inspire and empower, I will give into it. If I have the faith and strength to strive for my purpose and those I love the most, then I will never give up on myself or them. I am taking matters into my own hand, I am charging like a hurricane, and I hope you are ready for who I have been all along. You keep a horse at bay long enough and when it breaks free it will run faster than a storm…I truly hope the world is ready, and you are as well.

[thewritingpanda]

The Path of Faith

 “It’s not about being wrong or right…it’s about having something to believe”

Religion, we are all born with one without choice but we have the freedom to search and think for ourselves when our religion doesn’t match our faith. So what is faith? Faith is believing and knowing that the all-knowing will always be there for us; God. This blog post is very personal and only the closest people to me know my journey of faith, which will always be ongoing to the day I pass away. Every word written in this post is merely my personal opinion and a summary of my journey, so if at any point you disagree with what is written, please do not take it on any personal level.

Our story begins in 1993, I was born with my twin sister with the world opening its arms to me. They named me Andrew because my aunt knew a priest who was highly moral and ethical, so they thought I would be the same. Living in the Middle East you surely know that our parents expect us to follow the rules of our society and culture, like a programed machine, you should never think for yourself, you should never ever stray from the path everyone expects you to walk….you should never think for yourself because they know best, or do they?

As a child, I was raised in a loving family on Christianity, my grandmas had the most influence on me because they were always at peace with themselves. I remember growing up we didn’t have that much money so my dad and mom had to work a lot leaving us with our grandmas and occasionally the church’s day care. As a kid, I never quite fit in with the church or all the stories I have heard, but of course I kept it to myself because what would a 12 years old know that his family didn’t.

Aged 18, I started talking to the people around and listening to what they had to say about religion, whether it is Christianity or Islam. To put it plain and simple, I didn’t like what I’ve heard from both sides, all the stereotyping, the anger, the need to be right, it was really off putting to someone who is seeking inner peace and serenity for himself and no one else. This was my first mistake; I didn’t look for answers myself but decided to ask the people; the people disappointed me, and I in turn disappointed myself and God. So there I was failing my studies, failing my relationships, not fitting in any group; my brilliant resolution was that they are all wrong, I would become an agnostic who claims he loves everyone but really despises those who hold religion dear to them. I became the single most thing I hate the most…a hateful person. In my five years as an agnostic, I kept on searching for the truth because I knew that this was not the end, but I was blinded by what everyone else was saying and hatred formed shutters on my eyes that kept me on one path, not the one I was born on, but another one that is no different that I chose for myself. I didn’t realize it then, but now I do.

My journey saw me go through ups and downs, failure and success, forming new friendships that last, and failing new relationships that didn’t sound quite right. After switching schools from engineering to Mass communication and becoming the university’s star boy, I thought I was untouchable, I didn’t praise God times of ease and so disaster was bound to happen. A graduate who found a job that was only satisfying for the people who worked with me, however, my relationship was going downhill. Toxicity took over and my patience ran out, if you know me you would know that I am very tolerant and I never intend to walk away from anyone, I have always believed that everything could be fixed….this time it was a dead end. For the very first time in my life I had to say that things were not working out. I was sad but I knew that this wasn’t true love, and the irony of it that I believed God had someone better for me, and he did. Repeating the same mistake again, I didn’t turn to God in time of ease and blessings, he gave me true and pure love, and I wasn’t thankful enough. Years of debates with people and reading to prove that everyone was wrong went away in one day. I woke up devastated, always saying “why fix what’s not broken” and only realizing then that I was the most broken person. For the very first time in 12 years, I turned to God in tears telling him to guide, asking “what’s next”, how long will I keep failing those I love for my stupid thoughts and selfishness. At that moment I knew that my heart and soul could be mended, I was doing it wrong all along, asking people for guidance, instead of asking God for guidance and forgiveness. And so on that day my mentality changed, I started asking God “what’s next? Guide me, please help me for I have been lost for years seeking out my own ego and becoming what I hate the most”. I put all religions aside because I knew that all the moral and core values of them are one, but where is my faith, which one really describes my beliefs. And the answer came right away, Islam says that those who love God and do good deeds believing in the judgement day, regardless of their religion, only God can judge them….strike one. The only religion that gives credit to all religions before it…strike two. And the only religion that told me I was born a blank slate, not with guilt and not with a debt to pay, but free to fill in that blank slate as I will…strike three. Of course I had many questions to ask but initially, I felt guidance. My mind was convinced, but what is faith without your heart and soul, and so I decided to pray. I washed myself according to the religion’s rule and went to a mosque on my way to a friend. Three strangers were there and offered me to pray with them, I accepted with a smile. Once the prayer started, I had this divine feeling dawn on me that for the very first time, I was finding answers and setting a path to myself. First bow, I felt my heart beating and my mind at ease like a huge weight was starting to shift over my back, a weight that I’ve known like an old friend and carried around like a treasured possession. As I knelt to the floor in prayer to God, I broke down in tears; I had wasted so many years of my life setting a wrong goal, trying to prove I was right instead of acknowledging that it’s not about being right or wrong…..it’s about having something to believe in, true faith in God, something that mends your broken heart, a feeling that cannot be spoken or described, a divine feeling of the soul. After prayer the three strangers asked me what is wrong, I was honest, and they didn’t applaud and cheer like their religion has just one over; one of them simply said “May Allah guides your soul and heart to peace and serenity and sets you on a path which he sees fit”. I was trying to set my own path with my own thoughts and own hands when clearly there was a bigger plan.

You’d think I would’ve learned from my mistake? I didn’t, I found faith and praised God daily but I was never thankful for all my blessings, especially her. I kept learning, searching, striving to find God and myself in the form he wants me to be. He sent me signs, he sent me answers, I had the ability to inspire people, those who are close to me, and those who are not. My path of faith is ongoing till I pass away, I will continue inspiring and searching, I will always be proud of who I am and where my faith has led me; A Muslim who doesn’t have to think twice when he gets a divine feeling of what should be done. I was always told I am a challenger, I never settle, I am relentless in striving, in pursuing and achieving, mix all these qualities with faith and trust in God and you get a human being who is not afraid of anything. Though my head is filled with dark thoughts sometimes, my heart is full of love and faith to give to everyone and help where it is needed. This isn’t the last the world has seen of me, I will only grow stronger in faith and better as a human being; I have reclaimed my heart and faith, and now I set off on a journey to reclaim my true self. And to those who love me and thought they lost me or they would lose me; this doesn’t change who I am or how I feel towards you. I know that God will help me reclaim the dearest to my heart for the path of faith is never ending and full of hard work and striving. A word to the wise; always praise God in times of ease before hardship, take it from me.

[thewritingpanda]

A Timeless Stroll

“Time is nothing, yet it means everything…”

 It was a chilly winter night when I decided to take a long stroll down the main street. My head was like Pandora’s Box; filled with a million thought but I never knew what would come out of it. The word failure served as the background music to my walk; ringing back and forth in my head. I was labeled a failure, a loser who was not good for anything, and rightly so. I have failed my exams, I have failed in my relationship, it was not the best of times for me. But what about the words I told myself for reassurance? I used to tell myself that I have a different purpose, a different path that I was yet to discover, I’ve always had high hopes…sadly these words served as a placebo to numb the feeling. With the immense pressure that was put over me, I felt like atlas having to carry the weight of the world on my shoulder.

Time flew by as I was lost in my thoughts, before I knew it, I had reached my destination. This place was the place to hang out with friends if you were keen on a view, fresh air, and not paying too much. It was a hill overlooking an empty desert. Maybe I liked to meditate there because I wanted to pull the thoughts in my head out and into the nothing, let the wind blow them away and whisper reassurance. Or maybe it was the fact that I could see the district’s biggest prison beyond the desert, It reminded me of who I was at that time; a prisoner of my own thoughts. I built the walls around me and bottled up everything inside refusing to let anything in or out. On the hill there was a Kiosk that was said to have the coldest soda in the neighborhood. A cold soda on a chilly night sounded like a good idea to match my general mood. I am not a fan of shaking soda before opening, who is, yet on that particular night I did it. Call me crazy but I felt a bit of relief watching the soda popping out of the bottle, it was free like I longed to be.

I took my bottle and sat on the stone ridge that overlooks the desert, I noticed that some kids built two football goals out of bricks below and replaced the ball with a can. They were loud but they were laughing, having fun with the least resources. One of them scored a goal and celebrated by taking his shirt off and running arms spread like a plane. I wondered what it was like inside his head, did he imagine he was on a real field and we were the crowd? Or did he dream that one day he would be? It was sad to think that he might never be famous footballer, which brought me back to my initial thought; what am I good for?

I spent a good long 15 minutes span thinking about what could have been, and what would be, I still couldn’t find an answer. “Excuse me dear” my thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice that came from behind me. I turned around and saw an old lady wearing a black dress and a black veil, I could see through her sincere smile that she had almost lost all of her teeth. Her skin was wrinkled like a thousand sheets, every wrinkle seemed to have a story to tell. Her eyes were lustrous and full of joy. “Yes ma’am?” I hadn’t spoken for a while I coughed a little, “How could you see that goal and not react?” she asked innocently. I could tell she was the boy’s mother, “It was a fantastic goal” I replied politely. “Your tone says otherwise, you sound burdened” I wasn’t about to share my thoughts with a stranger “it is nothing really, I am fine” I said with a ghost of a smile. “Well, whatever it is that plagues your thought shouldn’t keep you from living” how could a woman with clearly a harsh life be so positive, so vibrant…so happy. I paused and couldn’t think of anything to say “well if you aren’t going to say something I will give you some advice so listen closely” she said as she proceeded to sit next to me “you are looking at the wrong direction” “what do you mean?” I asked with a lifted eyebrow, “well you are looking towards the prison not towards the sky, you should be praising God for your youth and all the gifts he bestowed upon you”, as generic as her words were, the look in her eye told me she had strong belief in what she said. “If you don’t mind me asking, how you could be so positive when clearly life has been unfair to you” she shrugged, “has it my dear? I never noticed, I have three kids and they are all healthy, God sends us all we need when we need it, it is just a matter of time” she paused for a few seconds and continued “as long as you have time, everything will be okay”. I shook my head as a sign of understanding “well, I never thought about that”, “well, my boy has finished his game, we need to go home. Nice meeting you dear” “you too”. She stood up slowly rubbing her hands on her shoulders, it was clear that her black garments weren’t tailored for winter. It took a few minutes for them to fade out from my line of sight as I was left all alone to my thoughts again…my new thoughts. It was late, I needed to make my way back home. I started to walk away from the ridge, the further I walked, the less burdened I felt. It was as if I dropped every thought I had and learned one new lesson; I was not a failure, I still had time to figure everything out. Time can be confusing, it is a manmade concept that is nothing, yet it is everything. If I was short on time, I’d be short on life but if I had time, I’d have everything. There is no shame in not knowing what my next step is because time would tell everything. There is no shame in being different with different goals, dreams, thoughts, and most importantly; belief. The whole world could label me one thing but I would prove that I am the other. Only time would tell who I was meant to be…free.

The next few days, I returned to the same place at the same time, the old lady was nowhere to be found. Maybe be in time she would forget our conversation. But I would never forget the valuable lesson she taught me; God gave me time and I am thankful for it till today.

[thewritingpanda]

Free to Choose

Tell me what you see but don't tell me what to believe, otherwise you cannot say I am free to choose.

Every day is exactly the same at this hellhole they call college. I meet the same people, attend the same lectures, and when the clock ticks 4 I run to my car faster than Usain Bolt in the Olympics.

The rain drops started coming down the window, I could only see a glimpse of it from behind the blinders. The room was cold and silent, there was no sound other than that of the professor. It was a pretty boring lecture about media politics, all the students had already rested their heads down in despair waiting for the clock to tick 4. I was so bored I started counting rain drops and comparing them to the number of hairs on my head, such a great way to waste time. Usually, I would lose myself in deep thoughts but this was torture, the sudden interruptions were unbea... "You there, the one looking outside the window, can you tell me the 5th rule of media policy I just mentioned?". “Don't look Andy, there must be someone else looking outside.” I thought to myself. My friend nudged me "Dude, it's you!” Oh great! Maybe if I ignore him long enough it will be 4 already and we can all go home. "Well Mr. Andrew, go on I am waiting!" Lucky for me, I was my class’s top student, so I was smart enough to answer any generic question with just a hint. I turned my eyes to the board and read the word 'watchdogs', took a deep breath and then started answering. "Well sir, I believe we were talking about how we, as media people, should behave like watchdogs who are only concerned about the mass public. This should be done through complete transparency of news and telling the people the facts as they are, leaving the choice to them to decide how they feel about it, avoiding any biases in the process of course." I ended my answer with a slight head tilt. "Impressive, and here I was thinking you were a desperate romantic counting rain drops!" The class laughed out of courtesy. I was actually doing that so I just smiled and nodded. It stopped raining, but most importantly, it was 4. All students made their way outside the lecture hall, I left last to avoid being mushed up against the door.

That beautiful smell the rain leaves was overwhelming that day, it was as if the air was reborn without dust or pollutants. I took a deep breath and felt like everything I had in mind was washed away, well momentarily of course! The ground was full of mud puddles, I improvised a little dance to hop around and not step in any until I reached my car, just like when I used to play the floor is lava with my siblings and cousins. There it is, looking like a rally car in the rain, but it was only the looks. I hopped in my car, turned the key, longing for turning it again when I arrive home. The way home back then was full of bumps, it would be an interesting drive in the rain. I turned my music up and took off. "Metriiiiii!" I heard a familiar voice call my last name. It was one of my friends who would dedicate their whole life to help save animals around the world. She had two dogs that were her best friends because who needs humans and their blabbering. "Metri you have to help me!" She maintained her regular cool face but there was certain alertness in her tone. "Sure thing, what do you need?" I asked casually. "Well you see, I found this puppy right here in that box, his mother gave birth to him and ran away, I have waited and waited but she didn't come back!" It was the first time I noticed the box she held; it was a blue shoebox with holes in it. She continued "I can't take him home, but if you can take care of him till he grows up a little bit that would be great". I slid the lid of the box and the towel underneath it slowly, there he was, a little puppy born and abandoned without his consent to anything, cruel. "How can I say no to this?" I thought out loud, "Well, he is all yours champ!" She gave me the box and patted me on my shoulder with a smile, she knew she could count on me.

There was not time to stand and chit chat, I knew he was going to wake up hungry soon so I needed to get home and prepare his puppy formula. I put the box in the seat next to me and made sure it wouldn't budge with any bumps or anything. "Ready to go home, little one?" The puppy didn't reply, "Well then, I guess that is a yes!” The road took almost an hour, there were bumps, there were water holes, and it was a real life rally test for my car. Not to mention that midway, the puppy woke up and started squeaking for milk so I had to step on it to say the least.

I parked the car in the garage and ran upstairs, I didn't have time to fiddle with my keys so I rang the doorbell and hoped that mom would be watching TV or something. Sure enough, Mom opened the door "Don't you have keys?" she said in her usual sarcastic tone. Her eyes fell on the box as she heard the puppy squeak "Oh no no no, what have you done? Please tell me that is not a puppy". I shrugged "It is not a puppy?” I made my way to the kitchen as mom followed me "Where did you get this one from? The street?" by now our two dogs were all over me trying to sniff the box "Ummm yes!" I replied. We had an old puppy milk powder formula, I read the instructions and proceeded with the steps to prepare it. I told mom the story of the puppy while feeding him, "so you bring me home a puppy that his own mother abandoned? Are you his mother now?" This time her tone was condescending rather than the usual sarcastic one. "He didn't choose to be born nor abandoned, if I can give him a chance to live then so be it." Mom paused for a few seconds then added "Well, at least you’ll know how I felt raising you up." She said as she headed to her room.

It was the first night for Zalata ever in this world, that was the name my friends gave him. My twin sister and I took shifts feeding him; it is safe to say that it was not a very comfortable night. I remember waking up and feeding him with quite the headache and feeling joyful as he goes back to sleep. I pictured how my mom felt doing this with a twin, she just wanted a girl but got me as a 2 in 1 offer. I remember her telling me the story when I was younger "When they told me I was carrying twins, I cried" She would say, I had to live my whole life feeling like an unlucky mistake. What if we had a choice in whether we wanted to be born or not, take this little puppy for example, he is not even conscious and he would have suffered a horrible end all alone, without his choice, without his consent. My thoughts were interrupted by the sun light coming inside the room, it was already time to wake up and do the same exact thing again all over again even though I didn't get much sleep.

Zalata was officially 5 days old now, healthy and fit as ever. Even Vodka, our female dog, used to check on him regularly; animal kindness and compassion that most humans would never possess. I was having lunch with a friend of mine in a place near college, we were talking about life and what she wants to achieve and how she wants to achieve it, her talk was generic but her tone was full of passion; she didn't just say this randomly, she had been planning it, I could tell. "I wouldn't have known all these things without you, you have influence on people do you know that?" I smirked looking down "Well, it's like fireworks, I just light it up the fuse and watch the show". Our conversation was interrupted by the waiter who finally brought our food, I felt my mouth running just from the smell but when my eyes fell on it, well it was over in less than a minute. "That was some good food huh?" She said with a wide grin on her face "Good food, cheap prices, happy man!" I carried on "And woman of course, I am not sexist". I was counting money to pay when my phone buzzed on the table, it was my sister, she never texts unless something was up. "What is wrong Andy, what is up with that look?" I remember pausing for a while, my eyes started tearing up a little bit as I finally said "He is gone.... Zalata is gone".

My sister blamed herself while my mom said that he was abandoned because his mother knew he wouldn't survive. I had nothing to blame but cruel fate. I didn't sleep at all that night, but it wasn't because of the squeaking or noises Zalata made, he was gone. I was lost in my thoughts, how could a tiny innocent creature suffer a horrible end without getting a chance to live or choosing to go. What about humans? We are brought into this world without consent, we are given names for the rest of our lives in a country we did not choose, and worst of all, we’re assigned a religion and brought up on our parents’ beliefs and cultural norms. The ironic thing is that everyone says "You are free to do what you want" They never mention the "but" part. You love a person who is from another religion, you can't marry them because that's what God says, despite saying that we should love everyone. Oh you want to be a musician? But our culture and society will look at you as someone insignificant, you should become an engineer or a doctor. We are free, but we have so many rules and limitations that bind us and bring us down. We are free but they will tell us what to believe and who to love. I thought about how I was brought up, and how I was taught to love unconditionally. On that night I swore that I wouldn't live by anyone's rules, I am free to choose and believe whatever I see right and fitting. Throughout history, humans have created factions to separate themselves and create a sense of ‘us’ and ‘them’. The need to be right has created a huge gap between us, we fight wars in the name of religion and our countries when the real reason is greed and power. What has humanity come to? I chose to believe that there is no us and them; no one is right and no one is wrong. In the end we are all humans and we all come from the same God. I didn’t choose anything, but I chose then to become a citizen of the world and not one country, I believe in God and humanity, not a certain religion.

On the last couple of minutes before sun rise, I sat down in front of my window and took a deep breath just to let it all out afterwards. As the first light of the day started dawning, I freed my imagination…and imagined complete freedom.

[thewritingpanda]

Helplessness

Help, who needs it when you can do everything on your own? Whenever I called for someone's help, I could have sworn they thought it was weakness. I wasn't weak, never was, never will be... At least that's what I thought.

It was a rainy day, I couldn't tell if it was because I was sad or the other way around, maybe it was because the girl I liked was sitting in the back with her boyfriend being all lovey dovey. Pathetic, that's what described me most back then, can't get the girl as usual so I refused to eat out of “depression” and treated everyone around me as if they were nothing. I only saw her in the back mirror. Before I knew it, the choice of not eating took its toll on me, my head went numb, I heard tires screeching then everything went black.

"His body is going into shock, we need to do something now" I felt a slight touch on my cheeks that quickly turned into multiple slaps. I tried to open my eyes but the light was blinding. My body was shaking out of my will. "Bring me the oxygen mask and the syringe now Hossam!" the doctor screamed at the nurse. "Andrew can you hear me?" I recognized that voice; it was hers but I couldn't answer back, not like she would care. It took me 5 mins to regain my strength to open my eyes, the oxygen mask and the needle did the trick, and I wasn't shaking anymore. "Is he going to be alright doctor?" she asked sobbingly "he is fine" the doctor answered. Sobbing like she gives a damn about me, she has some nerves. "Where is my son?" that voice down the hall was my mom’s, she was crying. My parents entered the room but I never heard dad say anything. I opened my eyes and saw them both crying, I have seen mom cry before, but dad? I knew he loved me he just never expressed it. "We are going to do full scans once the shaking stops" the doctor informed my parents "I believe it did stop" these were my first words "and I wasn't shaking, I was dancing", I have always been a joker but the doctor was not impressed by this one, he continued without batting an eye "very well take him for sonar Hossam then bring him to x-ray".

The bed was strolling in a long hall, my eyes were watching the lights on the ceiling pass by just like street lights in the car, the car, I wonder what happened to it. "Alright this is going to be cold" the doctor said as he put his latex gloves on and rubbed a lotion on my belly "oh don't tell me I am pregnant doc". I could tell he wasn't impressed as he added more sonar gel. "No internal damage, take him to x-ray". I was relieved that my organs were okay, but I knew something was wrong, there was a chill down my neck all the way down to my back, I knew something was broken.

The bed strolled across the hallway, just one light this time. "Take your pants off and lie on your side Andrew" said Hossam "I am clearly not in a position to take my pants off now, besides, aren't you going to ask me out first", he actually laughed, the doctor did not, Again. I took my pants off "let's get it over with already". X-rays showed a fractured spine but they had to take me to MRI just to be sure.

I had to take all of my clothes off and wear patient's scrubs. I've seen MRI in the movies, just didn't know how it felt like, not until then. "Alright Andrew, lie down and we will tell you when we need you to stop breathing okay?”, I said okay even though it was not. The bed slid into the MRI machine, it was like going through the gates of heaven, a big white ring and I am dressed all in white. Little did I know. The machine ceiling was too close, loud sounds started banging in my head like the drums of War, and on top of that I needed to stop breathing. I was suffocating, it was like a coffin, but I am not weak, I told myself. Half an hour passed, I’d stop breathing, then start breathing, until it started getting to me. What would I be leaving if this was my coffin? Was I good enough? Am I good enough? I started sobbing, soon, it turned to screaming "stop please! I am dying here stop!" the doctor replied "it's going to be over soon". It was over after one minute that felt forever. A broken back.

A transfer was in order to the hospital where they would operate on me. I heard that the girl had a bruised leg, I wasn't sure if I was happy she got hurt or if I cared about her too much, all I knew was I didn't want to see her then. Two paramedics slid me into the ambulance, the driver clearly had a bad day, he was driving like a mad man in a video game but we made it in no time. I was put in my hospital bed late after admission, my family couldn't sleep over so I was all alone with the old man in the room's other bed. I tried sleeping but two things kept me awake; I couldn't get her out of my head, and the old man was trying to perform Mozart’s symphony in snores, my luck!

The next day I had a visitor, the girl. "Andrew, are you still mad at me?" she asked with her wide eyes, they always looked to me like puppy eyes, irresistible. "What difference does it make, it would have never happened" I replied, "I know but I never meant to hurt you, do you know that?" she looked down sobbing. "Listen, what’s done is done, these are my feelings and it's on me to deal with them". She reached out for my hand but I pulled back, I didn't want her to feel sorry for me, I didn't want her to touch me. The doctor came in "Andrew, I am afraid I have bad news, we are going to have to operate on you the next morning, there is no other way" what I feared the most was going to happen, the girl looked even sadder then, I hated her sympathy, I was pathetic.

I woke up the next day and the old man was gone. The nurse walked in and opened the curtains "are you ready? Today is the day" she said with smile, "oh, am I getting married?" I answered back sarcastically. "Oh don't be silly Andrew, come on I need to shave your beard". There was no way I was going to let her do that, I am not weak. "Thanks, I'll do it myself", "but Andrew you..." I cut her off before she could finish "I will do it myself, yes". "Suit yourself" she put down the razor in the bathroom and walked out as she said "tell us when you are ready".

Getting out of bed was an extreme hassle for me, I was like a turtle turned on its back, but I managed. I used a soap as a shaving cream because I had none, neither did they, but it got the job done. I got into my scrubs and called the nurse for the wheel chair, it was time for the operation. They laid me down on a steel table, it was cold as ice when my skin touched it. I felt the hair on my arms rise. "Andrew when I inject this you will fall into deep sleep and won't feel a thing" the doctor said "oh come on do you expect me to Beli.." my tongue went numb; everything went dark again.

"Wake up Andrew, can you hear me?" I heard a voice as my ears ringed and I felt a hard slap on my face. I gathered all my strength and said "I will bitch slap you if you don't stop, I can't see you but I remember your voice". Next thing I knew I woke up in my room, it was 8 hours after the operation. My whole family was there smiling and sobbing, happy I am okay but sad I am not okay. I remember my aunt fed me this day, if I was completely conscious I would have done it myself. The next day the male nurse walked into the room with my meds, "good morning I am going to give you these real quick so we can go for a short walk". A walk? Is he crazy? I have a plastic bottle dripping blood from my back and one dripping urine so I wouldn't wet the bed. "Let’s play football then" I exclaimed sarcastically. "I am afraid you won’t be able to play sports ever again so a walk it is" he said with a strict face that wiped the smile of my face immediately. I took the meds and helped myself up. I took part in a race with the other patients, a very slow race around the corridor that is. I came last to a man with a broken back and two old men with broken legs, this was going to be a long recovery.

 A few days later, they removed both of the dripping bags, instead I had a pee bottle and wet bandages. One day I was sitting all alone and I had to go to the bathroom, I ringed the nurse's bell but no one answered, fine I'll do it myself, I thought. I am not weak. It took me 5 mins to get up and another 5 to walk to the bathroom. I went in, pulled my pants down and sat on the toilet carefully. I heard the poop hitting the water, success! After I was done it was time to get up... Failure. I tried pulling myself up but I couldn't. I grabbed the towel handle, still nothing. Every option had failed, I cried, I felt weak and for the very first time in my life, I was completely helpless and I had to call for help. "Help" I screamed my lungs out. In came the nurse, she was shocked by what she saw, a fully grown man pants down on the toilet crying his heart out. But she didn't think I was weak, I pulled my pants up as much as I could and she helped me up all the way to bed. "why are you crying" she asked "I am weak, I couldn't do it alone" she paused thinking for a few seconds "you made it all the way on your own but you were greedy, I am here to help you be stronger not to make you feel weak". She left the room and I thought of what she said, maybe help doesn't necessarily make me weak, maybe I needed it sometimes. Few days passed and it was time to go home where I would stay in bed for 3 months.

I said goodbye to the whole hospital and I carefully went into the car. Dad flattened the chair for me so I could rest. I hadn’t been out in 3 weeks, fresh air was nice. I arrived home and my 5 dogs greeted me, oh how I have missed them, loyal and caring, unlike the girl. I realized then that I have been blaming her for my feelings and I didn't care about hers, I was selfish. I texted her that I would never hurt her or hate her and maybe in another life it would've worked out, but not in this one. She was glad I reached a conclusion and we are still friends to this day. I walked into my room, turned my back to the mirror and took a long look at the deep scar that ran down my back. A symbol that I was not weak, I was strong and I would come back stronger. A symbol that empathy and help are now my purpose. I wouldn't let anxiety and jealousy do that to anyone else. The road to recovery was still long, but my heart and mind were at peace. I might have had a broken back, but I was a fixed man, a strong one. 

[thewritingpanda]

A Different Perspective

"in everything you do, always be kind"

It was the 14th of the holy month, Ramadan came in hot days that year. I had a package to deliver across the city from my dad to my uncle, perks of having a son I guess. A cup of coffee sat on the table in front of the TV, I was putting my shoes on and listening to the news. It was a terrible time to be alive, terrorists were spreading like a plague, people were not thinking straight, if they are different then they are not worthy, that is what they said. It didn't matter what religion you followed as long as you didn't follow and heed their radical ideology. I turned off the TV and took the last sip of my coffee, it was cold and bitter, a lovely start to a long commute I thought. I always choose public transportation over the car when it is a long distance, I don't like traffic, the sound of the car horns and people fighting to break fast is nerve wrecking, so I choose to put my headphones in my ears and forget everything around me, hoping I would reach my destination fast before I suffocate in the zombie like crowd. It is a 2 kilometers walk to the bus that would take me to the subway station, from there it would be a 45 mins ride to my destination. The sun was blistering, I looked at the distance and I could see heat waves dancing from the asphalt, it was only but 5 minutes until I started feeling sweaty. Halfway to the bus, I realized that I had forgotten my headphones, however, there was no way I would go back for them so I kept moving. There isn't really much to do when you walk in an empty street so I had my gaze down, following the road, and to my surprise I found 100 pounds lying there on the ground. I looked around me, thought of calling out if someone lost this, but decided that it would be to no avail so I put it in my front pocket away from my wallet; it wasn't mine after all. The bus ride to the station was sticky to say the least, the concept of personal space flies out the window when everyone is in a hurry, no one waits for the next bus, they just pile up over each other like a basket of apples, sweaty angry apples that is. Despite being very crowded, the bus was completely silent, no one was talking, there was an old man fiddling a sebha with his fingers and murmuring prayers. His hands were wrinkled, but not out of age only, I could tell that he was a craftsman of some sorts. My observations were soon interrupted by the bus coming to a sudden stop, we were there already. I wasn't in a hurry to get out and squeeze myself through the crowd like the rest of the people, neither was the old man it seemed. I headed for the stairs when I heard a voice "come on dad, let's get you home", I hadn't noticed the woman who said this before, maybe because she was sitting. "yes dear, by all means let's go". The woman was carrying a large bag over her head, it was mesmerizing how she moved naturally with such grace. She took the old man's right hand and brought him down the stairs, I thought it was touching how she kissed his forehead afterwards. It wasn't just a regular kiss, it was a kiss that showed her gratitude and appreciation to all the things he had done for her, and now it was her time to take care of him; it was a kiss of pure kindness and selflessnness. I looked at them as they walked away not noticing that it had been 5 mins already since I left the bus and started watching them.

The metro station was a mess to say the least, I couldn't take a breath without someone else sharing the air with me. After a long 10 mins I managed to get my ticket, deep down I knew this was not gonna be fun. On the platform, people had no respect for rules, once the door opened it was war. Those coming out of the train would try to shove those going in on the sides so they could get out, and those going in would do the opposite to get in. Me, I stood there watching, knowing that there is a split second at the end that would be my opportunity to get in, sure enough it came and I was in. A few stations later, the train was now semi empty. I rested my head on the pole behind me taking a deep breath as a sigh of relief. "hey mister, do you know what time it is?" I let the breath out, it was the sound of a little boy. I looked at him with a smile and extended my arm for him to see the clock clearly "how about you tell me", the kid paused as he looked at my cheap watch, he kept shifting his eyes between me and the watch. "you can't tell what time it is?" the kid looked down on the ground, I made him feel bad unintentionally. "I still have 6 stations to go, I can teach you if you want" "really?" the kid looked at me, his face lit up, I nooded. The next five to ten minutes I taught the kid everything there is to learn how to read a clock, I have never seen such an enthusiastic kid eager to learn something this simple, I remembered mogli and was thinking of telling the kid, but I shook the idea off, I didn't want to talk about something else he may not know. "and that is how you tell what time it is" I said with a smile "that is so cool, can you please ask me what time it is in a bit mister" I nodded. The train stopped at the station I have been waiting for "well, that's my stop kiddo" I patted the kid on the shoulder gently "me too!", what are the odds.

It had been a long while since I last came to shoubra, the place hasn't really changed that much, the same old buildings, the crowded streets, well they were more crowded now but it looked the same to me. "so which way are you going mister?" I really didn't know so I decided to ask the kid, he looked like he knew his way around here "I have no idea, I am looking for the big square" I looked around looking lost, I really wanted the kid to feel good about helping "oh I know where that is, this way!". I started following the kid as he started small conversation "you know mister, I really love shoubra, it is full of good people" I agreed, I spent alot of my childhood here so I know a thing or two about shoubra. The kid continued "the only problem is that they are mostly Christians" well that was unexpected. I didn't reply and I waited for him to continue "father told me they are bad" I had to ask "why is that?" the kid looked at me with all the innocence in the world "because they are different". Look at what the world has come to, we teach our kids that different means bad. I could 't bear to think what this kid would grow up into, would he bully others? Would he live his life hating those who are "different"? "we are here mister!". He did know his way around, it was a large square with towering buildings that stood tall like a concrete jungle. Each building had tons of air Conditioners and office signs; finding the right building was like finding a needle in a haystack." so, which one is it mister?" I looked down at the kid with a smile then up at the buildings again "I honestly have no idea kiddo". "well I can't read, call someone if you can". I pulled my phone out and called my uncle, he told me to look for a big red sign. "we are looking for a big red sign on the fifth floor kiddo" the kid looked around then pointed behind me "right there mister!". I was impressed by the kids wit and how fast he scanned the area "thank you kiddo, well I guess I have to go". "yeah me too, I need to pray to break my fast, I am probably going to eat koshary, it is all I can afford". That last sentence made me frown, he has a pure soul yet he is being raised in harsh conditions. The kid waved at me goodbye and started to walk away, I was looking for a way to make him happy so I called out "hey kiddo! You forgot to tell me what time it is". The kid turned back and ran towards me, he looked at my hand watch "according to this it is 6:15". "clever boy" I put my phone in my pocket to shake his hand properly, then I felt a piece of paper.... The 100 pounds! There was no better timing than this!. I got down on my knees so I can see the kid eye to eye, put one hand on his shoulder. "listen kiddo, I know that life can be harsh sometimes. I know you have hopes and dreams that you want to achieve. You want to read, you want to live healthy and happy. I know" the kid's eyes started tearing, he wiped them off "I want to be a pilot so I can fly and see the world" I frowned sadly "I can tell you'd make a great pilot with your fast paced wits. I want you to know that you are different, and that doesn't mean you are bad. It just means you are unique, the same goes to everyone." I pulled the 100 pounds out of my pocket "here I want you to have this" the kid looked at me with gleamy eyes "really?" I nodded "go home and buy something to eat for your family and don't you ever give up on your dreams" the kid hugged me crying "thank you mister" I looked at him "Andrew, my name is Andrew" the kid looked at me "that is a different name, a unique one" he laughed. "remember this kid, whatever God you believe in, we all come from the same one". I looked at my watch, breaking fast was 20 mins away "oh hey, look at the time, you better get going" the kid looked at me with a smile and said "thank you". I stood up as I watched the kid run, he would 't get lost, he' s a clever kid.

One hour later, I came down the stairs of the building. My mission was complete, it was time to head home. The streets looked nothing like they were on my way there. They were now empty, no cars, just kids playing everywhere. The metro station had no one but me. I bought my ticket with no hassle at all and waited on the empty platform. Soon enough the metro arrived and I was glad to be on my way home. It had been ages since I last sat in the metro train, there was only 3 people around; an old man, his son, and his wife. I sat down tired, exhausted from the heat, and I had forgotten to buy water. I heard a familiar crackle of plastic, it was the sound of a water bottle. "I know you want to drink son, but remember what we said about kindness?" I opened my eye and so the little boy walk up to me "do you want some water sir?" I looked at the boy smiling, I was not ready to drink a fasting boy's water "no thank you, I'll be fine, you go on and drink" the boy stood there looking at his father. "come on, don't be shy have a sip you look exhausted" the man said to me. "I didn't fast sir, I am Christian I am sure your son is thirsty" the old man gave out a tumbling laugh "so Christians don't get thirsty? You are human, you are thirsty, just have a drink" I admit, I didn't expect such kindness from a stranger, kiddo must have thought the same about me. I took the bottle from the son and took a sip of water, I felt refreshed as if this sip brought me back to life. I gave the bottle back to the little boy, he ran towards his parents. "how did it feel son? Are you happy you helped this man?" the boy nodded with a smile "now you can drink, and remember always be kind to everyone". The next station the family left after saying goodbye. I sat there in an empty Train thinking how my act of kindness was repaid. Perhaps everything happens for a reason, the old man's lesson to his son was a lesson for me too. As the metro came to a stop, I told myself to remember that regardless of our differences and beliefs, our way of life, and our hopes and dreams, we are all human who come from the same place. My final thought leaving the train was that in everything I do, I will always be kind.