Lost in Thoughts

A little note from the times of pandemic... We sit within the sprawling indoors, dotted with potted plants, guarded by brooding walls. Cakes have been baked; kitchens demolished.  Experiments have been executed; Youtube tutorials exhausted.  Books have been re-read; fantasies birthed, lived, and laid to rest.  Old cartoons have been revisited; happy tears shed and assuaged with pillows. Yet that special midnight blue dress sits unworn, its silver buttons pristine and pretty. That sleek pair of shoes stare from its box, its lace never touched and sole unscathed. That tree beacons with its champagne blossoms- Its smell grand and guidy. Vermilion evenings streak the sky, a painting in a museum display. People float within message bubbles, pranks and parties hosted at virtual tabs in screen corners. Pledge to remember, the next time you go out, Slip into your favorite top, Wear your brightest lipstick, Stand a minute longer in the rain, Smile at the old granny that sells jasm...

Don’t let it go ‘Cause that dream is your show.  Go out there, Bask in the spotlights. If no stage, then Sing under the starlight Gleaming in the moonshine Your boundaries got no line. Drink in a thousand sights At dinner tables under chandelier lights Gleaming forks upon napkins, snow-white. If not, honey, then it’s alright. Set your own table Bold tablecloths trailing the dusk-lit ground  With truest of friends to dine around Wooden chairs and plastic cups The chatter, the music of divine As we sit and age like fine wine.  Be wild, Be free Be all that you want to be. Run to places off the map Chart new roads, one time, a lap As willing as the white winds Scared as you might be. You make your choices Shut out those miserable voices That tell you to sit and sip tea Step on your ship and sail the sea If not for treasure, Then for the breeze. Don’t let it go. ‘Cause your dream is your show.

It was definitely a surprise for me as I booked an Uber that mellow Egyptian morning.My eye-brows hitched  as the driver’s profile popped up. She was most certainly a woman, wasn’t she? Indeed. A fair face framed with a neat hijab and a tight smile. Not going to be one of the rides that find me drooling in the back seat!                     I ride shotgun. Maneuvering deftly through the chaotic streets, she draws down the little shade overhead. I hadn’t noticed that I was unconsciously squinting through the sunlight. She adjusts the window to just the right level, so as to hold my hair intact. I smiled at the empathy. Women have their way of doing things. Not an empty phrase. “So...How long have you been driving?”, I ask. “25 years”, words tumble out with a hint of pride. “My own car”, she pats her baby with pride. “My gift to my-” A horns blares loud. She makes one sharp swerve.  A shiny car raced by in demo...

           ‘Feminism’ has almost become a fancy word today. Intending no offense, it has certainly lost its meaning in the midst of people who brew their own lofty ideas, basing it on incomplete conversations heard at café fronts or a television show picked up from somewhere in the middle of an errant episode or on their own personal experiences, which fairly speaking, covers something but certainly not everything. Feminism is but an idea that has been brewed over centuries and centuries of events, wars, bloodshed, tears and triumphs. Women across kingdoms have carved niches and details which has lead to what it is today. Feminism is just a reminder of what women can do- what they have done-why they have a voice so gentle yet so strong. I can justify this claim by citing one woman. She had me shackled in chains of curiosity. As I read, she grew in her own shadow, a faceless woman whom the world has conveniently cast into obscurity.     ...