Just writing

Off The Hook Fishy

nhpureandsimple

Should a fish shut her mouth?

But of course she should,

otherwise she will be hooked out of her world; her big, secure home. 

And then it’s over.

She will serve as a fresh dinner plat for a hungry stomach.

“You definitely, and by all means, shouldn’t open it,” the old wise fish advised her fellows. 

“As delicious, fresh, and rare as the bait may be, it is as dangerous, cunning, and deceptive. You should remember that, and think twice,” the old wise fish warned.

We humans should think not only twice but thrice or even more before stepping into a zone that isn’t ours.

Whatever this zone may be; 

social, professional, or even familial.

It isn’t advisable to open your mouth and swallow everything, 

nor to open your mouth and pour everything out.

In both cases, you transgress your zone and fall into waters that aren’t yours; whether deep or shallow it doesn’t matter, again they’re not yours.

You sacrifice your self-respect, your peace of mind, and your time over trivialities.

Didn’t the old man repeatedly give this piece of advice?

Of course he did.

Psychologists , psychiatrists, and many books say and repeat the very same advice. 

If you don’t trust humans because they’re the ones who invented fishing rods, then trust the old wise fish who has never transgressed its own territory.

By the way this post was inspired by a quote I wrote on my other blog; the one I’m trying to bring it back to life. If you’d like to read it, here’s the link:

https://nh825.wordpress.com/2026/06/03/the-fish-and-the-hook/The Fish And The Hook

With the old wise fish’s  thoughts, 

Nahla

daily prompt

Well… I Believe Everyone knows This fear

nhpureandsimple

What fears have you overcome and how?

This is the dentophobia; the fear of dentist visit.

Of course, I made this word up, but feel free to use it… just add me as the reference. Who knows, perhaps one day this word will be added into the encyclopaedia of odd words.

So… this is the main fear I believe most people have. 

It’s the dentist, and the dental clinic.

How many times have you postponed your visit to this white, bright, ’healthy teeth guaranteed’ clinic?

Mine are Numerous.

The thing is most of the dentists look nice, talk nice, behave nice, but when their equipment, tools and shiny new technology start buzzing, nothing looks nice anymore. And that’s exactly when the first phase of fear begins.

So… once you lie down on that dental chair, your heart starts pounding hard and loud and nonstop

Then comes the eye shield, and with it your hands begin to perspire and tremble.

What follows, is opening your mouth wide, and that’s exactly when your heart almost forgets how to beat.

’Sorry, do you want me to stop? Just a few seconds more,’ your faithful dentist assures.

And your only response is to close your eyes and clutch your hands.

What else can you do?

Finally, you hear the long awaited phrase: ’All done’

You got to your feet, and thank the Lord you can leave safe and sound.

Then the second phase begins, as your kind dentist offers some warnings wrapped in gentle advice;  ’Don’t speak, eat, or drink for at least two hours if not longer. And in case of any problems, call the clinic immediately.’

You listen and nod, your mouth numb and your head aching.

Last but not least, the final wave of fear arrives when you see that smiling face behind the reception desk waiting for the bill to be payed and the next appointment to be booked.

Later on you arrive home and, all of a sudden, you start craving a cup of tea. But then you remember you can’t drink.

So you gaze around the kitchen, looking for any snack, and again you remember you can’t eat.

A moment later, you phone rings, but you don’t answer it, because your ears are buzzing and your mouth is numbing. 

Nothing is left but to try to relax somewhere quiet. You do, and with the mercy of God, you fall asleep.

’Congratulations… you’ve passed your dentophobia challenge with great success,’ you whisper in your dream.

And that’s when you finally realise you’ve conquered one of your fears.

With dentist – challenge – fear thoughts,

Nahla 

Just writing

Hello, June

nhpureandsimple

Your big brother May was kind all the way to the end.

Yes, thank God, May was fun, interesting, and productive.

I posted quite often, as ideas flowed easily and unexpectedly.

But… I read less in May.

Guess why.

Because I picked the wrong book at the wrong time.

It was one of the old classics; a collection of Kipling’s short stories.

The name rang a bell from somewhere back in my English degree days, but I’m pretty sure I hadn’t read anything by this author before.

So I welcomed the book heartily; looking forward to enjoying some beautiful, rich prose.

But it turned out to be like a machine manual catalogue with too many symbols and clues that gave me a headache. 

My brain couldn’t digest this piece of literary work, save for one story.

I exhaled a long, deep breath when I decided not only to stop reading it, but also to never pick up another book by Kipling.

But then, as I was checking my want-to- read list, I remembered that I have a second blog.

Quotes and Reviews…. nh825.wordpress.com

I felt sorry for it.

It has been mute for so long that it doesn’t know me anymore.

I gave it a little nudge post to wake it up.

It did wake up though still yawning with, heavy lids and slow motion.

Hopefully, in June I can feed it with more quotes and book reviews.

With June’s new blogging thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Busy, Buzzy Week

nhpureandsimple

Well… this week started good, actually very good.

Indoors and outdoors were busy and buzzy.

The birds were chirping from dawn to dusk.

The bees were buzzing around trees and flowers.

And people were running outside either on their feet or in their cars.

The roads, parks, markets and beaches were all so busy.

All because the weather was hot, finally.

Mrs Sun had been so loyal over the last few days.

Actually.. she was more than loyal.

She was protective, subjective, and fictive.

Honestly, she was, and still is, committed to her principles up to this very moment.

As for being protective, her shiny, strong rays blocked the wind, and allowed only a bit of breeze every now and then.

It happened, though, when the clouds and the wind started a big thundery fight over some lighting debate.

But Mrs Sun sorted it all in a couple of hours.

But… I’d like to seize this opportunity and blame her for being subjective.

Yes she was.

She was highly subjective, insisting that sunburn is a long awaited gift, and didn’t consider how it’s not for everyone.

But she was forgiven for being fictive. 

Yes, under her majestic warmth, we build sandcastles, 

we relax to the splash music of the waves,

and we smile while listening to the ocean humming inside the shells.

With sunny, busy, buzzy thoughts,

Nahla

daily prompt, Just writing

Collections Over the Years

nhpureandsimple

Do you have any collections?

Over the years, I kept one of the most unique collection I could have imagined to have. Friends.

But… I wish I could say I still have it.

Most of this collection faded into very pale colours; you can say it’s almost colourless.

This collection is related to my friends back home.

We haven’t been in contact for years.

I was one of the last to step into the world of social media, and when I did, I began searching for my old friends.

But then… those old friends are not the same.

And I am not the same.

So it was nice to find them, and to keep them in the album, even if in faded colours. 

And there’s another collection filled with colourful pictures but no album can keep them forever.

This one belongs to the many people I came to know and befriend after I stepped onto the British land. 

I loved this collection.

It was full of different colours, tongues, and traditions from all over the world. 

Can you believe it? I treasured this collection even more than the first.

But one can’t keep this collection in a single album. 

Some go back to their countries,

some leave for different ones,

and some, just like me, keep moving around, but still in the UK.

This collection turned into some unique photos and a once upon a time album

And… there is this special collection; the one that doesn’t relate to people but to… writing.

My posts.

They discover me, and I discover them.

This collection is renewable, and its album promises to never run out of pages.

With special collections thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

It’s Friday

nhpureandsimple

Yes, it’s Friday. 

This week’s gone in the blink of an eye.

Its long days matched its short nights.

You check the time and it’s ten in the morning and when you check again, it’s ten at night.

You go to bed, and before you even entre the phase of dreams, your morning alarm rings to wake you up. 

You hit snooze, pleading for a few minutes more.

And before your eyes relax, the alarm screams again, but this time straight into your ears.

Finally, you do wake up.

You drew the curtains and look at that quiet beatuty of the early morning.

And finally this Friday turns out be to a warm day.

By the way how do you say Friday in your language?

In Arabic we say جمعة Juma’a

I know in French it is vendredi

I forgot what’s it in Spanish.

What about yours? 

With blessed Friday thoughts,

 Nahla

Just writing

The Shepherd and The Wolf

nhpureandsimple

As I was teaching my daughter her Arabic lesson, we came across the story of The Shepherd and The Wolf. She already knew the story, but this time were using it mainly for learning some basic grammar.

Before we started our lesson, I asked her if she remembered the story.

‘I think so,’ she replied.

‘Brilliant. So what is it about?’

‘Little Red Riding Hood,’ she said and added a few others as options, none of them related to the one I’d asked about.

I couldn’t help laughing at these multiple choice answers that this young generation seems to master so well.

Now… it’s your turn.

Have you or your children heard of this story before?

If not, here it is:

Once upon a time, a young Shepherd was getting bored of his daily routine with the sheep. Everyone had the same chores to do and finish before the sun went down. They would wave hi and bye, and then hurry off to tend for their duties.

Day after day, the level of the Shepherd’s boredom exceeded the limits. 

Then one day, he came up with a silver idea, the one that would stir a bit of hustle and bustle in the small village.

That day, the Shepherd waited until the noon sun was shinning everywhere. He ran all the way to the top of the mountain and looked down at the people enjoying their noon meal. Then, he screamed and screamed and screamed.

‘The wolf is attacking my sheep. Help. Help!’ he yelled and yelled and yelled.

The people, old and young, men and women, left their chores, abandoned their meal, and ran up the hill all the way to rescue him.

Slippers, old shoes, sticks, pans, pots, and knives were their weapons. 

Breathless and exhausted, they reached the spot where the boy stood,

but there was no wolf, and the sheep were calm and happily grazing around.

The young shepherd apologised and explained how terrified he’d felt, hearing swishing and swooshing around, and thinking it must be a wolf.

The villagers sighed in relief and left the boy in peace.

Excited, the boy repeated the same show three times, each one with a different lie.

But the fourth time, the fake story became a real one.

A real wolf appeared, ready to play its role for a real drama.

The boy screamed nonstop,

His screams were earnest. ‘Help. Help. Please Help. The wolf is eating my sheep.’

But this time, his show didn’t win any audience.

The wolf grinned and hunted more and more.

The boy’s voice broke, and he could scream no more.

He finally realised that no one trusted him any more.

Wouldn’t it have been better if the young Shepherd had thought of some other exciting way to break his boredom without lying.

At the end of the day, even if some people smile and clap for the lair, they will neither trust nor respect them.

With never-be-the lying Shepherd thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

I have enough of it

nhpureandsimple

How do you feel about cold weather?

Really, I’ve had enough of cold weather this year.

It has worn every kind of hospitality.

Today, for example, is not only windy but also cold. 

Yesterday was cold.

The day before was freezing.

And the sun, it graced us with some light the day before the day before, but with no heat.

Imagine it’s the 20th of May, and you still grabbing your coat every time you step outside.

I would welcome Cold Weather, and I would even open all doors and windows with a big smile but only if it comes on time and leaves on time. 

But this year it has not only been stealing April but also May, and right in front of our eyes. 

Twice or more, it hit us hard with heavy hail, the kind that makes you rub your eyes, wondering whether the scene is real or just your imagination. 

Well.. I hope Summer arrives soon, but kindly, without any showing off of its heat power.

And please, Summer don’t be cruel and steal Autumn the way Winter did with Spring.

With enough cold thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

The River and Its Source

nhpureandsimple

I didn’t think I was going to write anything today until I randomly opened one of my old notebooks. Actually.. I was searching for a blank page to write down something before it slipped from my memory.

And then the miracle happened.

My eyes caught a quote from a book, and my brain insisted on giving it some workout.

By the way, do you also have this habit of saving the quote but neither the author’s name nor the book it came from?

Just curious to know whether I’m the only person who does this. 

Anyway, this is the quote: “To know a river, you have to know its source.”

So, according to my humble interpretation: to befriend a river, to communicate with it, and certainly to understand it, you have to know its source; how it flows, what kind of life it carries, and when it floods or dries.

Simply put, you have to know where it began, how it lived, and what shaped it.

Don’t you agree that some people are just like rivers.

You can’t truly know them until you know their sources; their history, their nature, their way of life, and certainly the reasons behind their tides.

With people-like-rivers, thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

The Journey With No Brands

nhpureandsimple

Years ago, my husband and I went to perform Hajj.

I think I once wrote a post about that journey, but I can’t remember which one.

Anyway, as hard as this trip was, it somehow turned out to be just as funny.

I think it was in 2005 when we took a flight to Egypt to leave my two little boys with family. I smile now as I write this post, but back then I wept buckets as we headed to Cairo Airport to take our flight to Saudi Arabia.

In this holy place, there is no place for brands or for showing off. 

I wore a white cotton dress, a white hijab, and simple slippers, just like most of the women.

By the way, women are allowed to wear any colour but I preferred white.

Simple and modest, women put on their clean dresses and hijabs out of obedience and respect for the holy rituals. No one would criticise or even think about the quality or the brand of anyone else’s clothes.

Isn’t this a beautiful picture to be part of and a beautiful memory to treasure.

I reckon no one would believe that my husband and I didn’t take any photos during this trip. 

Honestly, we didn’t.

Simply because, back then, phones were not allowed inside the holy mosque.

So no one would have taken photos to show what they were wearing, how they were praying, or how they were feeling.

Even outside, around the other sights, we didn’t bother taking pictures.

We lived precious moments that carved themselves deeply into our memories for years, and that’s more authentic than any captured photo.

Things have changed a lot these days.

Still, the holy rituals are not for any brands. 

With Hajj’s precious memories and thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Finally… FICTION

nhpureandsimple

Yes, finally I’m back to fiction.

Phew… it took almost five months to pick a fictional book again.

I really enjoyed reading non- fiction over the last few months.

It wasn’t until yesterday that my brain started begging for a break, a pause from working on those complicated terms and scientific writings.

When I didn’t show any sign of objection, my brain seized the opportunity and explained that he was in dire need of breathing some literary prose, some metaphors, similes and idioms. 

I took a few sips of water, and he sighed deeply before continuing his complaint about how bored sick he felt reading those black- and-white paragraphs. He longed for… imagination with its colours, rhythms, and intrigues.

Request approved, I said.

And finally, I whispered to myself, feeling over the moon.

It was last night when I picked up an old fictional book.

Oh, the poor book has been waiting patiently for that exact moment.

“Welcome back,”he said.

I smiled and started reading.

With back- to -fiction thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

The Royal Table

nhpureandsimple

Actually I’m not sure this was a royal table, but let’s say it once belonged to a Hungarian noble, a piece of his past that somehow moved to another’s person’s villa.

Why do you think that might be?

Because the owner of the villa had gone bankrupt, and his villa turned into a museum. Some treasured Hungarian pieces were moved there, including the table.

Thanks to one of the museum staff, I knew about this story.

Hopefully, I got it right.

As for other information, my daughter and I had to rely on our own brains to put bits and pieces together, since everything was in German.

And you may know by now that my German is just like my Italian- two languages I never once considered learning. No idea why.

So back to the royal table. Isn’t it beautiful?

As in most museums, visitors aren’t allowed to touch any of pieces, but they can take photos.

How I wished I could pull up a chair and enjoy a nice cup of tea there.

But since that wasn’t allowed, I simply imagined it.

Those old china cups and plates, a traditional cake with natural flavours and simple ingredients. 

I wouldn’t have minded wearing one of those dresses on display either. They were long, elegant, and even had a hair cover. It would have been fun.

I couldn’t imagine other guests in the scene, though.

It would have been so embarrassing as they would all be speaking German, and I’d be sitting there with nothing but a completely useless smile.

It was an enjoyable visit.

And what made it even more enjoyable was the experience of communicating with people who don’t understand your language just as much you don’t understand theirs.

But we laughed together, and somehow managed to sort the whole visit perfectly. 

Perhaps one day I will try to learn some German.

Just…maybe.

With short-break holiday thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

A Plat For Two

nhpureandsimple

Imagine the portions you eat at home and the ones you eat out.

No comparison.

Not because the food you eat at home is less,

but because what you eat at home can be plenty, and for far less expenses.

You actually pay far too much at restaurants.

Of course, the food may taste nicer and look fantastic. 

And yes, you feel relieved and relaxed,

for you don’t have the burden of preparing, cooking and cleaning.

Still, your mind can’t help doing the math.

Everything has a double price hidden behind the smile and warm welcome of the catering staff.

On one of those few precious warm April days, we went to for lunch outside.

Everything looked nice and clean, and the location of the restaurant was really nice.

My daughter ordered pizza, which I believe was a good, money wise choice.

My husband and I were craving fish.

The plat we both liked offered a variety of fish; prawns, cod, salmon, oysters, smocked sardine, along with vegetables in a cream sauce and some bread.

Isn’t it mouthwatering?

I suggested that we can share the plat.

My husband agreed, though doubted it would enough and thought it might be a good idea to have a side or two.

I insisted it would be fine since I’m not much of an eater.

My husband nodded, but added two sides anyways, just in case 

I surrendered.

Our order arrived with a divine aroma and a fantastic presentation.

But then the real fun began.

The  plat turned out to be a big bowl, full of creamy sauce that looked like a wide white sea with tiny, different kinds of fish. 

I grabbed my fork and imagined it was my fishing rod. It was easy to catch those tiny swimming portions, really easy.

They tasted yummy, but in a blink our Bismillah and Alhamdulilaah ( our food blessings) were done, and every tiny piece had disappeared.

If it weren’t for the two sides and the leftovers from my daughter’s pizza, we would have been starving.

It’s funny to share a plat, but only if you’ve ordered plenty of sides.

Otherwise, you’re better off saving your money and eating at home.

With sharing-a-plat thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

May They Not Cut Any More Trees

nhpureandsimple

Sometimes you just ask for a solution to a problem, but instead of fixing it, they cut it down.

That’s exactly what happened to two trees in our garden.

The story began when the road workers explained how the trees were affecting some of the wires on the posts along the road. 

Well… I haven’t grown any trees myself.

I wish I had. Isn’t it such a wonderful deed.

Of course it is.

When we moved into our new house, there were these lovely but enormous trees. 

I really loved them, and I did my best to trim their long branches.

Anyway, the workers recently came to fix the problem.

I expected they would cut the long branches, or worse all of them, not the entire creature.

They cut down two big trees. 

It was a rainy April day, really rainy, and windy too.

It felt as if the other trees and perhaps the birds as well, were crying after the loss of their friends.

Now the wires are safe.

The light posts are clear.

But the old tree spots look different without the trees.

It feels as if a big secret eye is hanging between the surrounding trees.

Thankfully, the nearby tree is leaning towards that empty space, as if trying to cover the secret eye.

And there’s another small one growing just a step or two away, which will soon block the whole eye.

If you cut down something, perhaps because it’s dangerous, toxic,or simply inconvenient, there will always be other better possibilities.

Some wounds can heal themselves and overcome any emptiness, any secret eye.

May they not cut anymore trees in May.

Oh my… is it already the first of May?

Actually I think we’ve had enough of April this year. 

It overstayed its visit.

With garden and trees thoughts, 

Nahla

Just writing

It Took The Evil Eye Away

nhpureandsimple

In my culture, when something breaks, burns, or gets damaged in any way, people usually say, “Thank God, it took the evil eye away.”

Funny how my grandfather, many years ago, used to laugh and say “Doesn’t this evil eye go anywhere else? It had almost broken all of the cups.”

Actually, I follow the tradition.

I never wept over spilled milk or a broken cup. 

I repeat the same phrase and feel relieved. 

I thank God that the damage was in things that can be replaced, not any one of us. 

What disturb me and what I make a fuss about is the mess. That’s when I start yelling at everyone around me to be careful, to watch out, and definitely to be safe. 

By the way, I didn’t break anything today, but I did have some funny, slightly annoying moments.

So… instead of making a nice, fresh orange juice, the machine grew grumpy and violent. It started shaking as if it were going to explode, splashing juice everywhere including me. Of course, I unplugged it, but then I hit the cup, and a river of juice came flooding across the counter. 

After cleaning the mess, I went to have some fresh water before heading out. But for some reason, the glass didn’t feel comfortable on the mat and decided to lay down for a bit. Then, again, another river flooded the table, and headed straight towards both my phone and iPad. No way, I gasped, snatching my precious devices just before the flood reached them.

Then I went out, happy with the sun, the blue sky, and the steps I was taking until the wind decided to make another mess. Not with rain, but by blowing pollen everywhere. 

I came back with a headache, itchy eyes, and a blocked nose.

Could it be another evil eye?

No, it is the spring evil.

Let me introduce the most unwelcome visitor: Mr. Spring Hay Fever. 

Wasn’t it just a wonderful day! 

With windy spring thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

A Story Inside a Non-Fiction Book

nhpureandsimple

So… here I’m again, repeating the same story that started at the beginning of this year.

It’s about my determination to read more non-fiction than fiction.

So far, I’ve been reading non-fiction about different topics and I’m really enjoying them.

It wasn’t until a few days ago that I started reading  Of Men and Plants by Maurice Messegue. From its very beginning, the book turned out to be the story of the author himself, who was apparently a very famous herbalist.

I’ve really enjoyed every part of his story so far.

But… have you ever tried to put into practice some of the knowledge you read about?

Well… I tried, but of course not as a herbalist.

What happened is that I started looking around at different plants, not just the familiar ones I know and use regularly. 

To my surprise, I discovered there’s rosemary in my garden, but there are other plants that look totally unfamiliar.

I used Google search, and it gives some information but with a few warnings, as if I am going to eat them. 

I’m really thinking about asking my neighbours.

Wouldn’t that be a good idea.

Anyway, ever since I started reading about herbs, my instagram feed has been full of herbalists and herbs. 

Can it be a coincidence?

Or did everyone become suddenly interested in herbs.

Sometimes, I feel as if I am not just looking at  the herbs, but I’m almost smelling them.

Could this actually happen in the future?

Please no.

There’s already enough madness on social media.

But in the reels, nothing seems toxic or dangerous. Even the dandelion, that cute little yellow flower, I’ve been known for years as a weed, turns out to be nutritious and full of health benefits.

Sometimes, I wonder why they never taught us about different herbs at school.

At least then no one would mistake a dandelion for a useless weed.

I think I’m going to post more about this book.

With dandelion thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Why the Crow Is so Mean.

nhpureandsimple

Yes, I saw it — that crow who seemed not only overfed, but also a tyrant, a bully, and certainly greedy.

Everything happened as I was getting the clean laundry out in the sun, for we haven’t seen her much since the beginning of spring.

But she kept this promise.

Do you know about this promise.

Here’s my recent post, in case you’re curious.

https://pure-and-simple.co.uk/2026/04/17/its-a-sunny-day/

Anyway, a few seconds before the crow landed on the tree, a pigeon had just came back to her nest in a same tree. 

Of course, I didn’t see her nest but I saw her slip into the branches and disappear, which makes perfect sense if she has a nest hidden there.

She was cute, looked happy and lively in the sunny day. 

Just as I turned back to go into the house,

I heard the sudden flapping of wings and then that familiar, unpleasant sound of the crow.

I turned around and looked up, 

and there was the pigeon flying away from her tyrant, whose claws gripped the highest branch as if he meant to dominate the whole landscape.

Surprisingly another pigeon came to the rescue, not to fight with the bully. 

Pigeons aren’t cowards, thought.

They simply prioritise their safety and peace of mind.

So, it seems the second pigeon was checking on the nest before flying to support her friend on the other tree. 

Then both pigeons flew away with the same quick rhythm and lightness under the blue sky.

The crow was still up there on the tree, 

interest in nothing but the disturbance of peace of other creatures.

Soon, another senior crow, or perhaps one of those gigantic seagulls will chase him to the ground, I thought as I turned to go into the house wondering why crows are so mean. 

How I wish I could have taken a photo of that scene.

But I was more interested in watching it.

With peace against mean thoughts,

Nahla

(The pigeon in the photo is not the heroine.)

Just writing

It’s a Sunny Day

nhpureandsimple

Yes, finally the sun is gracing us with some light and warmth.

Still, the wind insists on extending its visit, bringing along its strong-gust companion.

But at least we can say we have a long, sunny day.

It seems the sun is pleased with our happiness.

It feels as though she’s smiling, spreading even more of her shining rays.

But I can hear her whispering that tomorrow she’ll be off on a mission.

Yes, she says she is going to push the wind and its companion as far as possible. 

East or west, she hasn’t decided yet.

Oh, she promises to come back soon to stay longer — a week or more.

Isn’t that great news.

I checked the weather forecast, and it’s all true.

She wasn’t lying.

She’s coming back on Sunday,

and will stay for one whole week,

and hopefully even more.

Time to get ready for a long, warm walk. 

With sunny-day thoughts,

Nahla

Just thinking

April and Still No Fiction

nhpureandsimple

The thing is, you start reading a book and find a reference to another.

So you make a note to check that book.

You like it, you read it, and the cycle goes on.

That’s how my readings began this year.

I’d set my mind on reading non-fiction from the first of January.

I thought things would change back to fiction soon,

but non-fiction is still the dominant one.

Right now, for example I read about herbs and alternative medicine.

Even though I skip many sections, mostly experiments and pure scientific parts, I still enjoy the rest.

It’s good to learn different things, even if your knowledge is only a tiny bit of the whole work.

And it’s definitely great if, from that morsel of understanding, you don’t stand tall and proud pretending you’ve become an expert. 

Anyway, in one of the books I finished recently, I came across this funny but meaningful quote: 

“Emotions are like parents …, annoying and cumbersome, pushy and old-fashioned, but probably doing things for our own good.”

And honestly, the quote doesn’t need any philosophical explanation. Right?

It was mainly an extract from a serious psychological idea.

Can you guess what it is from the quote?

Have you ever thought about “unwanted thoughts” ?

Those unwanted thoughts are part and parcel of our emotions

So, when you can’t face reality, they simply find enough room to settle into your mind.

But, these unwanted thoughts are like signals—

an alarm clock trying to catch your attention,

to wake you up,

to push you towards the challenge,

and even to change or fix things.

If you don’t cooperate with the signal, 

if you keep snoozing the alarm, 

those unwanted thoughts will turn into a kind of torture,

or a useless burden you carry for no reason.

The author’s idea, as I understand, is to treat unwanted thoughts as a kind of blessing—

a friend in need, 

or even like your parents.

They come mainly to wake you up,

to help you face reality.

If you don’t take the cue, they stay.

And that’s how they become a useless burden.

Get the idea?

Hopefully you do.

With alarming  thoughts,

Nahla

Philosophical musings

The Marionette and the Kite

nhpureandsimple

I wish I knew the names of the inventors of these two string-held toys: the marionette and the kite.

Do you?

Or even know the real story behind their inventions.

I know neither.

Perhaps a quick search online would reveal the full story.

But I’m not actually interested, not right now.

Actually… I don’t like marionettes.

But I really enjoy watching kites drift across in the sky.

Sometimes I wonder why.

If both work with a string.

If both have someone behind the scenes guiding the string with accuracy, talent, and lots of practice.

And, if both exist for fun and entertainment.

Why? 

But aren’t they are totally different?

The marionette is a puppet, 

and a puppet is a puppet.

It is confined to the stage,

manipulated by a hidden person,

for the two can never appear on the same stage.

It talks, sings, and dances.

It tells stories, and people laugh.

And its manipulator is always after the prize — the profit.

But the kite is different.

It is freedom in the open air.

It is quiet, with just a little flipping and flapping.

And, it is wonderfully flexible, soaring high and flying with the wind.

Its manipulator is not hidden.

Actually… they can’t be manipulators.

They always in the open — brave, steady, and smiling.

Their prize is the sight of freedom, strength, and courage.

Now, if you have two invitations: one for a marionette show and the other for a flying–kite show, which one will you choose?

I would definitely choose the flying-kites show.

And that’s why I like kites and don’t like marionettes.

With free-soaring thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

He Thought He Owned The Mine

nhpureandsimple

Some people carry this ego that swells until it bursts.

Have you ever met anyone like that?

There’re plenty of them — especially on the news.

By the way, I borrowed the title from this old saying: 

I not only thought I had struck gold, I also thought that I owned the mine.

Isn’t it so true?

After one success, some feel they are the best in the world.

After one massive profit, some believe they control the entire market.

After reaching the king’s throne, some imagine they will rule the whole world. 

Nonsense.

The predecessors of this kind — with all their knowledge, wealth, and power — left the world not only empty-handed, but with a history marked by shame and disgrace.

People remember that kind for their evils, just as a reminder, a moral lesson, a path we’re warned not to follow.

Has your mother ever warned you not to listen to the whispers of the devils?

Haven’t you ever wondered how some people have excelled the devil in his own craft?

Actually, the devil himself would be so astonished by the high level those people reach that he might apply for early retirement before his eternal journey back home to hell.

By the way, the saying above doesn’t apply to these ego-swollen humans.

Here it is again; 

I not only thought I had struck gold, I also thought that I owned the mine.

It applies to those with a nagging conscience — those ones who admit their mistakes and try not only to fix them but also to learn from them.

Though the devils know their mistakes; in fact, that’s what they live for and by, they neither fix them nor learn from them.

But for humans, it is never too late to learn.

Isn’t it.

 

With humble human thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Winter in April

nhpureandsimple

It’s April, and how it arrived so quickly, I’ve no idea.

But according to the calendar: it’s officially the first of April.

But why are you stretching the heavy blanket of winter?

You’re supposed to bring spring with its warm sun, blue sky, and colourful flowers.

Up to this very moment, it’s freezing cold here,

and rainy,

and the only colourful flowers are the ones in the supermarkets.

Not only that, you’re bringing along news of an unexpected guest: the wind.

She’s planning a short stay for two days soon, I heard.

Honestly, earlier that day, I thought it might be one of your fool tricks.

But no — it wasn’t.

You’ve just announced, clear and clean, that winter’s mood is still on.

But March announced that the summertime is already here, 

with a promise of long, bright days.

What’s wrong this year?

If you had a fight with long March,

or if you’re simply confused by the chaos in the world,

please don’t make us scapegoats for others’ madness.

Anyway, welcome April—

and thank you for the spark of sun that shone just as I finished this post.

Is this a promise of new hope.

Please be kind.

With kind and hopeful thoughts, 

Nahla

Just writing

Yes, definitely — it’s Light

nhpureandsimple

Well.. it’s rainy and windy here in my place.

Really, the weather has been so unsettling over the last week, 

and the week before,

and perhaps the week before the week before. 

Fine. 

It’s been like that for a while,

and this ’while’ might be days, 

or months,

or even years.

But today isn’t so grey as it used to be.

The sky is bright,

not too bright,

but bright enough to show some of its hidden light.

The kind of long awaited light you expect to see at the end of the tunnel,

for you don’t want to walk along a narrow tunnel all of your life, do you?

You sure want to get out,

to breathe the fresh air,

to feel the warmth of the sun,

and the gaze at that magnificent azure in the clear sky.

It’s Light, you scream.

Definitely light, your tears roll down your face.

Perhaps your prayers for 

hope,

peace,

and…

justice. 

are finally being answered. 

With light and bright thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

New Eyes

nhpureandsimple

Has it ever happened to you, as you’re walking along the road, that something suddenly strikes you— some details that seems totally new to your eyes

But you walk the same road every day.

How come you’ve missed them?

Perhaps it’s because you always leave your glasses at home, you wonder.

Really?

But the thing you’ve just noticed is as obvious as the sun in a clear day.

Maybe you were so consumed by your own thoughts that you couldn’t really see your surroundings.

Fine, things happen.

But… have you ever considered how narrowly and vaguely you’ve been using your eyes — and for so long?

You’ve been looking without seeing.

You’ve been seeing without feeling.

Then one day, 

as you walk along the same road, 

you discover other real things—

that weren’t hidden,

that weren’t new, 

but were actually there. 

They always exist;

they just needed your new eyes to notice them,

and perhaps to contemplate them.

You look,

you gaze,

you stare,

and you finally realise you’re seeing with new eyes.

Was it a miracle?

Definitely.

A miracle that shows you how you can always have new eyes.

With new eyes and new thoughts,

Nahla  

Philosophical musings

Creditors and Debtors

nhpureandsimple

It feels like I haven’t posted in so long, though it’s only been a week or even less.

But when one gets busy, the mind can’t concentrate in too many things at once, can it?

By the way, this post isn’t about money.

They say creditors have better memories than debtors. 

And of course, that makes perfect sense in the financial world. 

The lender with the upper, steady hand would by all means save, register, and arrange all the details of the transaction. 

On the other side, the borrower, with the lower, shakier hand, would delay, delete, or even freeze any memory of what’s owed or what should be paid back.

Right.

Now… do things work the same way in the non–financial sides of life?

In those close relationships — with family, friends, neighbours, and even those brief but meaningful acquaintances who pass through our days?

Would there still be creditors and debtors?

And if so, who would you think have a better memory?

Well… things happen, right?

But let’s stay on the positive side.

Love, kindness, forgiveness, and all the other beautiful traits we offer to those close, special ones — comes with no conditions, no deadlines for return, no legal action to take, and no double interest added for any delay. 

So no— there are no creditors, no lenders in these relationships.

There are only the givers, with calm, warm hands,

who save a good memory with no alignment, no regret, and no remorse.

The receivers here are not borrowers with shaky hands.

No.

They are the blessed, the fortunate ones.

They can even hold a better memory than the givers, if only they honour kindness with gratitude. 

Sometimes we just need to think positively.

even when the world seems to focus only on creditors and debtors. 

Still, there are kind humans and grateful ones

too.

With kind and grateful thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Reading Psychology

nhpureandsimple

Well… I’m pretty sure one of my recent posts was about the change in my reading genre. 

Reading and Mood Change

So far, I am following the plan just fine—reading nonfiction. 

Recently, I’ve started reading some psychology.

My first encounter with this subject was in my final year of high school, many years ago.

Honestly I remember nothing of those lessons except the teacher herself— even her name has slipped away. I remember her loud voice and sharp gaze, but I can’t get any closer to her name. 

But I do remember the name of my teacher from my first year of primary school.

Strange, isn’t it.

I loved my first primary teacher and I wept buckets when she left and moved away with her husband. 

Anyway, my psychology teacher crossed my mind as I stole a little time for reading. Time is tight these days, with Eid celebrations almost knocking on the door.

So… according to psychology, our memory machine is not only selective, but also clever and cruel. It doesn’t come with a button we can press to “save all” or “delete all.”

No.

It works professionally, by using its own unique selective strategy. 

It mainly saves the things you like the most, hate the most, or the things that hold your full concentration and consciousness.

Memory is not like history, which keeps a record of everything, though sometimes with some alterations and even some big lies.

Memory is a trustworthy keeper. It writes the minutes of the things that truly matter in your life, even those small details, those passing emotions, or those quiet, special moments.

And sometimes, out of the blue, it brings back one of those memories from many years ago.

Something that can make you smile, cry, or simply wonder as time pulls you back in a split second.

You find yourself back in that classroom, learning psychology, having no idea that years later you would be reading a psychology book explaining why you can’t remember your teacher’s name.

Simply because you neither loved or hated her, your memory saved only what had caught your attention back then — the special tone of her voice and her sharp gaze

And… thanks to psychology, I found the little distraction that inspired me to write this post.

With these reading–psychology thoughts,

Nahla 

Philosophical musings

Seek Simplicity But…

nhpureandsimple

Can you guess the rest of the quote ?

Here’s it all:

“Seek simplicity but distrust it.”

How dare Mr Alfred Whitehead doubt the sincerity of Simplicity?

I started this blog and named it “Pure and Simple” for the sake of simplicity—and then comes this quote, accusing simplicity of being untrustworthy.

I know my philosophical musings may, sometimes, give you a headache,

or leave you a little lost,

or even bored. 

Do they?

But this doesn’t mean distrust, does it?

Oh my… 

It’s just crossed my mind that I’ve muddled things up.

Poor Mr Alfred isn’t accusing Simplicity at all.

Actually his quote is in favour of simplicity, not against it.

Simplicity is about the art of simplification.

So instead of leaving us with one whole rock, simplicity can soften it into clay—something we can handle and understand. 

In other words, simplicity gently breaks the complex into smaller, simpler pieces.

Then it breaks those pieces into very tiny ones.

They may scatter into a maze, or a little a mess, 

but they become more flexible—easier to explore, enjoy, and read.

That’s when Distrust arrives with a warning:

Don’t mistake simplicity for nonsense.

Don’t mistake it for weakness.

And definitely don’t mistake it for superficiality.

So, finally, with a big sigh of relief,

I’m happy I came across this quote today.

It feels like a little booster to stay on the path of Simplicity.

With pure and simple thoughts,

Nahla

P.S.

I only discovered this philosopher through this quote—just in case you think I’m well-versed in his philosophical works for I am not.

Just writing, Philosophical musings

The indelible Pencil

nhpureandsimple

They say this kind of pencils exists.

Have you seen or used one?

As far as I can remember, I haven’t had the honour yet.

So… whatever this unique pencil writes, draws, or even scribbles will never be erased nor changed.

Right?

Apparently, the only way to get rid of its powerful effects is to either tear the page into pieces or burn it altogether.

But just a moment… does this indelible pencil remind you of something?

What else can’t be erased?

What else can’t be changed?

What else can’t be manipulated?

Don’t think too much?

It’s Reality.

It’s been written by this indelible pencil.

Such a bold, sharp, steady word.

Some might try to hide it, erase it, or bury it.

Still, it stands clear and firm.

Without shouting, 

without lies,

without pretension, 

it waits with a smile, proud of its existence and confident in its triumph.

The indelible pencil smiles too, as it watches those pencils with erasers being binned one after another.

By the way, do you think our thoughts are written by an indelible pencil?

But that doesn’t make any sense.

Because… we can erase them, or change them.

Things might be hard,

but not impossible.

And…

don’t forget: the pencil your mind uses has an eraser.

With real and clear thoughts,

Nahla

 

Philosophical musings

Sanity

nhpureandsimple

If you’re still checking your sanity these days, you should be grateful.

Because this means you’re sane, with a sound brain, a beating heart, and a functional memory.

And congratulations

if you still have enough logic to make accurate conclusions.

if you can still see properly, not only your reflection.

if you still can hear others, not only your own voice.

if you can still feel this inner voice that reprimands, blames, or even nags you to think twice before making a decision.

Insane people have none of those capabilities.

None at all.

Truth and lies become equal.

Hate and love become equal.

Good and evil become equal.

Even worse, 

they know no morals, no respect, no dignity.

And…

they believe they are the only sane ones on this earth.

And some people applaud them, 

nod in approval,

and pray the Almighty will bless the insane.

Bless the insane?

You wonder, bending over laughing — and your sanity replies: 

Congratulations, you’ve just passed your sanity test. 

With sane thoughts,

Nahla

personal thoughts

Out of Sight

nhpureandsimple

Do you know this saying?

“Out of sight, out of mind.”

In Egypt, people say: “Out of sight, out of heart.”

Which one do you prefer?

Well… it seems to me that both sayings are talking about different things.

The first one is so true. 

If you can’t see something fully, you can’t remember it. 

It just slips from your memory,

simply, because you have no interest in it.

The second one talks about emotions, 

and about special people—

those close ones, 

the ones you love, respect, and appreciate.

According to the Egyptian saying, 

if those close ones are out of sight, 

your feelings will change 

and may become less or fade away.

But can this really happen?

What about children

when they grow up and leave the nest?

Will parents and children apply this saying

and let their existence slip out of the heart

just because they are out of sight?

Of course not.

Why doesn’t your pet, the one who died

 or the one who flew away, 

still have a place in your heart?

You still smile at their memory.

You still remember them.

What about the one who once treasured with sincere advice?

Or the one who showered you with the kindness you needed most?

That respected teacher who taught you morals before  knowledge?

Wouldn’t they always be in your heart? 

But of course, my interpretation of the Egyptian saying

cannot be applied to all people. 

Some people may push you to drop them out of sight and out of heart,

completely and without regret.

You will offer thankful prayers with utter sincerity when they are out of sight. 

As for your heart, it wouldn’t mind,

for those people would never have had a place there anyway.

So…

can we agree that the special will always be special, 

and that those dear, happy memories, 

will always be in sight and in heart. 

And.. remember 

the heart always has its own memory 

regardless of sight,

regardless of distance 

 

With in–sight-and- in –heart thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Reading and Mood Change

nhpureandsimple

Surprisingly, my reading in February was better than expected.

Perhaps it’s because my reading interests and mood have changed.

This change began not as a challenge, but as a wish to read something different.

I love fiction, with its imagery, prose, and intriguing narratives.

Is there anyone who doesn’t like stories? 

Maybe.

By the way, fiction is still my favourite.

But… sometimes a title of a certain book crosses your path and intrigues you enough to have a look.

This unexpected friend introduces you to another field, another scope of knowledge. 

You start listening while reading. 

You start wandering into a new world.

You start feeling how little you have known, 

and how many interesting topics there are to learn about and from.

They say changing habits and routines is good for your brain.

What do you think?

I agree.

This wasn’t the main reason why I decided to read nonfiction, though.

But I’m glad I did, because I’m both enjoying and learning from this temporary change.

Let’s wait and see which path my reading will follow in March.

That’s all for today,

With reading thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Sophistry

nhpureandsimple

Can you believe that sophistry is considered a form of oratory? 

Well.. the book I’m reading now says it is.

And I agree.

Because both oratory and sophistry are mainly about talking while showing the ability to impress, persuade, and even manipulate others. 

Strange how a sophist, in most cases, practices his craft through manipulation, deception, and deviation. 

And stranger still, how there are so many of them these days! 

But to be fair, not every sophist is a manipulator. Some just talk nonstop, but without lies or trickery.

Their talk might give you a headache until you give up and buy what they say.

But of course this is nothing like dominant sophistry, the one that justifies using any means to reach its aim.

Do not fall into the trap of sophistry.

But it’s okay to fall into the trap of philosophy. 

At least philosophy is known for its devotion to truth.

By the way, how is the weather in your place?

Mine’s been windy and rainy for days.

 

With philosophical thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Practice Makes Perfect

nhpureandsimple

Really?

Doesn’t perfection have a bit of biased tone in the phrase?

Isn’t it just a figurative expression?

You have been practising writing for a while, maybe for years. Right?

Me too.

But this doesn’t mean the product is perfect.

I don’t think the works of those great, famous writers are perfect either, even with the support and help they receive.

So technically, practice is not about perfection, 

but improvement.

The more you practice, the more you improve… 

or the more you get used to and familiar with the thing.

When you’ve improved and become familiar with whatever you’re doing, you’re doing well, or maybe even very well.

If that’s what “Perfect” means that, then it makes sense.

Practising writing, for example, is great to improve your talent,

find your voice,

and probably make use of your own musings.

Practice makes none of these perfect,

but perhaps more interesting or more… creative.

And that’s what turns whatever you’re practising into an enjoyable routine, a task, or even a habit.

Practice builds consistency, improvement, and…

more importantly confidence.

So… keep practising, not for the sake of perfection, but to prove to yourself that you can do it.

That’s all.

With practical thoughts,

Nahla

 

Just writing

As Young… As Old

nhpureandsimple

“Youth is not entirely a time of life.

It is a state of mind … 

you are as young as you hope, 

as old as you despair.”

Isn’t that a beautiful quote? 

Surprisingly it is by anonymous.

Does this make it less beautiful?

No.

Still, some people may reply: Hope is for the young and the old live by nothing but despair.

Sure, these ones’ level of desperation exceeds all limits.

Apparently, they only read “old” and “despair” from the entire quote.

They think “anonymous” means “nobody”, and therefore not trustworthy. 

But let’s focus on the sunny side.

Hope is the light that nourishes life, energy, dreams, and continuity.

Despair is the darkness that binds life, energy, and continuity.

Whether you are young or old,

it’s all about how you direct your state of mind:

towards hope or towards despair,

towards light or darkness.

And perhaps you can also direct your mind to

appreciate the advice,

even if it was given by someone anonymous.

Because anonymity makes the words belong to everyone.

With sunny thoughts,

 Nahla

Philosophical musings

If It Isn’t Broken…

nhpureandsimple

Don’t fix it.

Have you heard this saying before?

It can have different interpretations, though.

The most obvious choice is to keep going, to follow the crowd, repeat the same routine, and perhaps make the same mistakes, as long as things are not broken

But isn’t it a dangerous advice?

I heard its equivalent in Egypt. People say, “if it works, let it work.

Same meaning, right.

But what if it’s working badly or awkwardly or uselessly?

Yes, it’s working.

Yes, it’s usable.

And yes, it’s better than nothing.

But what’s wrong with fixing things that aren’t broken?

And first, do unbroken things really need any fixing?

Well… that depends on how you see things.

Fixing can mean replacing, discarding, or abandoning a thing or an idea or even a person.

But it can also mean rethinking, reshaping and reliving.

It can be an invitation to make some changes, some improvements to whatever we’re having or doing. 

Imagine you have an old china cup with a few scratches, crakes, and maybe a broken handle.

You use it every day.

You drink your hot tea from it.

You wash it.

You dry it.

And you put it back in the cupboard safe and sound.

You keep it this way until its time comes when it either bursts or slips from your hands and smashs against the floor.

Some will throw it away.

Some will try to fix it by gluing its pieces back together.

In either cases, it will no longer be used for drinking or washing.

It becomes either a souvenir or goes straight into the bin.

So why couldn’t it become a souvenir a long time ago?

Because it wasn’t broken.

And what’s wrong with fixing it while it was still usable with giving it new ideas, new benefits, or even new memories? 

Sometimes, we don’t just practise this easy-peasy strategy, but we believe in it. 

If it works, let it work.

If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

Until it’s too late. 

Until we finally realise that everything has its time…

And it’s much better to fix it before it breaks.

With fixing thoughts, 

Nahla

daily prompt, Just writing

The most important invention in life.

nhpureandsimple

I know this is technically about real big inventions like cars or home appliances.

But life is overflowing with important inventions. 

Really, if you pick one, you’ll find another more important.

When I search for something, I find dozens of versions of it.

They seem important, some very important, but later you realise they are not.

Haven’t you been living without them for a long time?

Of course you have.

This is why I thought of something else.

Something that only you can invent,

only you can use, 

and only you can keep.

Can it be my style? I wondered.

And, why not? I answered.

But, there are different kinds of styles.

Still, you are the only one who can merge them all.

Have you ever noticed how you, consciously or unconsciously, follow one style in everything you do?

By the way this isn’t a fact, just an observation.

How do you choose your clothes?

How do you design your house?

How do you eat and make food?

How and what do you write? 

And so much more…

All of these can blend together and invent your own style.

And it’s important, very important.

It can tell others more about you.

And perhaps… 

it can also explain why you cope with some but not with others.

With new quiet thoughts,

Nahla

P.S. this is my second response to today’s daily prompt.

I totally forgot about my first.

https://pure-and-simple.co.uk/2025/02/06/important-and-unimportant/

You can consider this post is an extension to my first response.

Just writing

February, Readings, and Me

nhpureandsimple

Is it already February? 

Yes, it’s the fourth of February.

This month is so impatient.

It’s generous with its sunny days, but stingy with its warmth.

So why am I talking about February?

Because my book-review website, which is already struggling, will apparently struggle even more.

I’m planing no addition to it this month.

It is not easy to review a nonfiction book in a personal, contemplative blog. 

I can do that for research and theoretical studies, but not for a blog that’s meant to protect my peace of mind blog.

So, back to Mr February.

Please slow down, have some mercy on my book-review blog.

The Japanese book is interesting, but it has three big parts which could, actually, count as three books, if only I had the time to read them.

And there’s another problem; I already have my reading plan for the month of Ramadan, which begins on the 17th of this month.

Oh, my poor Japanese book, I think I picked you at the wrong time.

But don’t worry, I’m determined to finish you one day.

And as for you, my book-review blog, have a quiet break.

All sorted out, Mr February.

With busy-month thoughts,

Nahla 

Just writing

Motivation

nhpureandsimple

M for moral.

O for open-minded.

T for try.

I for important.

V for value.

A for alternatives.

T for time.

I for ideas.

O for optimistic.

N for new.

If you ever get stuck in any situation ( writing included), try playing with its concept, its word, or its technique. 

It really works, but only if you want it to.

Now… the word “motivation” can sometimes and…. unfortunately have unpleasant connotations.

But anyway it all depends on your Motivation.

With optimistic and moral thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Start again

nhpureandsimple

How many times do you get disappointed about something?

How many times do you get confused, shocked, and sorry?

A lot, right? 

But isn’t that life? 

Sometimes you feel you’re too close to achieve your dream, 

Too close to touch it, 

Too close to hold it.

And then, at some point, you find yourself standing there,

 right in the middle of nowhere.

Shall I give up?

Shall I go on? 

Shall I follow this direction or that one? 

Was it ever meant for me?

It’s hard when you get caught in this trap of disappointments, especially when you’re trying your best,

trying to focus on the sunny side,

on the full half of the cup.

Then…

you realise your only opportunity is to start again.

Shall you take it?

Why not? 

Isn’t this life too? 

It tests our faith,

our patience,

and perhaps also…

our strength.

It seems to be yelling, 

“It’s time to start again.”

With positive thoughts,

 Nahla

Just writing

Too many books

nhpureandsimple

At the beginning of this year, 2026, I suggested to myself without enforcement, argument, or stubbornness that I would read more nonfiction books.

So far, I’ve been doing well following my own suggestion.

I’ve a long list across various topics. 

It’s good for the brain to switch activities and also books, isn’t it? 

But I haven’t abandoned fiction completely. I read a few pages every day from a story in a different genre: Japanese fiction.

By the way, nonfiction isn’t that boring if you’re interested in the topic.

It may need more time and concentration.

But the good news is that you’re not obliged to read it from cover to cover.

Sometimes a nonfiction book is a collection of different essays, topics, or even categories.

You read the ones most related to your interest, and skip the others.

Well… that’s my strategy.

I reckon nonfiction authors expect this from readers. 

Some of them even mention in their introduction that you, as a reader, may skip the parts you’re not interested in.

So far reading nonfiction sounds good.

But just a tiny problem to consider:

there’s no room for imagination in nonfiction.

And that’s why I always keep a fiction book at hand.

Nonfiction can teach us science, literature, philosophy, history … 

but fiction can teach us all of that in one imaginative story. 

It’s in nonfictions that we learn about history, and in fiction that we see it.

By the way, do you think villains read history?

Perhaps they don’t, otherwise there wouldn’t be so many of them.

With reading thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Why I Can’t Write

nhpureandsimple

Because I don’t have ideas.

That’s probably the first logical answer.

Or perhaps because I don’t have time.

That also makes sense.

Or…

You may say it’s because I have so many ideas, but can use none.

Have you ever struggled with this last problem?

I have.

Over the last few days, whenever I decided to write down something, another idea would pop into my head and start fighting with the first.

Before I could put an end to the fight, a third idea came from here and there and interfered.

As I was wondering whether this interference made any sense, a fourth idea pushed its way into the crowd.

I gave up and returned to my book.

Sometimes you have so many ideas that you end up writing nothing.

But sometimes… this very chaos is exactly what we need to write about.

By the way, this applies to life too.

When everything feels chaotic, a mess, and out of control, 

that’s the very moment when solutions, changes, and opportunities begin to appear.

The birds sing after the storm.

People come out and walk, steady and free.

And writers watch all of that and think,

That’s the time to write.

For sure.

With chaotic and quiet thoughts, 

Nahla

Philosophical musings

The Best and the Good

nhpureandsimple

“Best is the enemy of good.”

Have you ever thought of Best as perfection and Good as practicality?

Well.. this quote is all about this issue, and of course in this context, animosity is expected.

Good is the one climbing the stairs step by step.

Best is the one taking them all in a few leaps, reaching the top before anyone else.

Good is laughed at as slow and a loser.

Best is championed as fast and a winner.

But doesn’t the steady turtle win the race against the pompous rabbit?

She listens to practicality.

He listens to perfection. 

She wins.

He loses.

Simple. Right?

Now, try and read the sentence from right to left:

The good is the enemy of the best.

This is another saying.

According to this one, the good is the average, the easy way—the path that stops and hinders the achievement of the ideal, the perfect.

Neither the turtle nor the rabbit really fits this context.

Because the turtle doesn’t stop the rabbit, and the rabbit is too arrogant to be an ideal.

But… actually they can fit, just in a different way.

The rabbit is doing what is good. 

But why try to do better? 

He thinks he’s perfect—the winner.

Surprisingly, the turtle is doing not only good, but better, 

even the best of her abilities to keep going and finish the race.

She wins.

He loses.

Got anywhere now?

Hopefully, you’re not lost.

In both cases, the turtle is the winner and the rabbit is the loser.

In both the quote and the saying, the winner is the practical one whether they are doing good or doing their best.

Perfection is out of the race because it is impossible.

We are not created to be perfect. 

But we’re meant to do our best. 

Good can be enough, 

but what about other possibilities? Other dreams? Other questions? 

Why get five if you can get ten?

Why give up instead of keeping on?

It was a perfect day, we say use “perfect” as a figure of speech,  

because we decided to enjoy it with its good and bad details.

Now… do you think the quote and the saying can be two faces of the same coin?

With best-and-good thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Let’s Pretend…

nhpureandsimple

This let’s pretend is all about close your eyes and dream.

Well… not closing your eyes and dozing off, but turning on the light to imagination, to hope, and perhaps even to happiness.

Children are the best at make- believe.

They use let’s pretend to dream about the future, about their growing-up lives.

They play this let’s pretend game to have fun.

They cling to this let’s pretend as a shield to avoid and escape punishment.

Writers make-believe too.

Their let’s pretend characters become full of life on the page. 

Their let’s pretend thoughts turn into words a reader can hold. 

And their let’s pretend world becomes real in imagination.

Pause…

This was how I began this post last night with this idea which I borrowed from a non-fiction book about creativity and IQ tests. By the way, do we really need all the fuss around them?

I don’t think so.

Now, back to the main idea.

Instead of going back to finish my post, I decided to complete Dostoevsky’s Poor People. 

I did finish it, but that wasn’t a good idea. 

Because I abandoned the post and slipped straight into reviewing the book. 

But the idea of let’s pretend started nagging me, buzzing into my head, with a single plea; 

Please let’s pretend you didn’t read the book.

Please finish the post.

I tried.

But, I couldn’t.

The book seemed to cut the flow of my post thoughts with its hopeless narrative.

It’s understandable how the story reflected the miserable and hard life the author experienced during the time he was writing it. 

But still, I found myself wondering; why he didn’t play this let’s pretend game, just once, to make- believe some hope in the miserable story? 

Honestly, I don’t know.

But at least I made it — and finished this post.

 

With let’s–pretend–happy thoughts, 

Nahla

Philosophical musings

In the Zone of Comfort.

nhpureandsimple

This post was inspired by https://tonysbologna.com/2026/01/15/the-real-reason-youre-afraid-to-leave-your-comfort-zone/

But by all means what’s the problem with comfort? 

By comfort, I don’t mean idleness, an aimless life, or monotony. 

By comfort, I mean choosing to follow what’s suitable for you while still having a target, a purpose, and even a moral compass.

The gardener, for example, who knows nothing but planting and selling flowers, is happy, content, and proud of his accomplishments. 

Then one day, others introduce this idea of “comfort zone” into his mind.

They keep nagging him to get out of his comfort zone and take some risks:

to buy more land, plant exotic scentless flowers, and double or even triple the price of his harvest.

He says, “But my life is good, and I have risks everyday to take and challenge.”

They say, “But you can do more.”

He says, “I have enough.”

They say, “Who dares, win.”

He says, “win what? “

They say, “Fortune, wealth, and more pleasures.”

He says, “What about comfort?”

They say, “Well… they will bring comfort.”

He says, “No… there will be no time for comfort.”

They say, “You’re wasting your life.”

He says, “No, no… I’m enjoying my life.”

Is the gardener lazy or weak or brainless?

Do the others, with their idea of “getting out of the comfort zone,”live really in paradise? 

Strange how most people ignore the fact that, in comfort, a person can be more productive, creative, and successful. 

A comfort zone is not about sitting in a chair and crossing your legs. 

A comfort zone can be full of options, challenges, and achievements. 

It’s simply where and how you choose to live.

In the end, in your comfort zone, you have the freedom to follow your own intuition, and you are not obliged to say “Amen” to anyone’s else rules because… it’s a home, not a prison.

With comfort thoughts,

Nahla 

Just writing

Hey World!

nhpureandsimple

In case you, just like me, are shocked and disappointed by what’s happening around the world, here are some of my philosophical musings, not on politics, but on gambling.

Now… before making any assumptions, this post is inspired by Dostoevsky’s The Gambler which I’ve finished reading.

You know what? 

A popular Arabic saying goes: Take the wisdom from the mouths of the insane.

You may wonder how.

Wisdom and insanity do not match, together they make no sense.

You’re right. 

But… who says that the insane are wise, or that wisdom can be taught to the insane? 

It’s not about knowledge or experience.

It’s about special gifts.

It’s an advice not to belittle anyone’s abilities, even if they were insane.

Back to the Gambler: the book was clearly written by a gambler with a warning as bright as sunlight in a clear sky. It seems to shout: avoid gambling, never try it, and flee from it.

Isn’t the gambler just another insane person born with a functioning brain, yet destroying it for the sake of gambling obsession? 

The story echoes that old saying, with a bit of alteration.

It seems to urge readers; take the wisdom, and learn the lesson from the gambler’s tale.

But not every insane is gifted, 

and not every gambler is repentant either.

With sound thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Salt and Sugar

nhpureandsimple

They look exactly the same, don’t they?

But one tastes sweet,

and the other tastes salty.

Both are needed —

but not too much.

and not artificial.

Life can’t be without both.

It is a mix of salt and sugar.

We need its salt to make it liveable.

We need its sugar to make it enjoyable.

Without them, life would be tasteless,

wouldn’t it?

People can be salt and sugar too.

Have you ever met someone who adds a bit of flavour to a gathering, a meeting, or even a party? 

They might bring a joke, a touch of humour, or even an unfathomable argument, but they change the dull mood and stir life back into the company.

In Arabic, we say this person is the salt of the gathering.

And… have you ever met someone who makes everything taste sweet even the bitter coffee?

These are the ones who smile at you, reassure you when things get hard, and show up whenever you need them.

They are like natural sugar; sweet, simple, and healthy. 

You know what? 

They say that salt and sugar are among the most dangerous substances in modern civilisation.

Of course they are; but that’s mainly about the artificial ones, the fake ones, the man-made ones. 

So why mix things up?

But… life will never run out of the genuine person who is the salt of the gathering, and the kind one who is the sugar for the soul.

With salt-and-sugar thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

The Storm

nhpureandsimple

Have you heard about the storm that hit the UK yesterday? 

Goretti. That was its name.

By the way, it wasn’t all over the UK.

In my place, it was just cold, cloudy, and sometimes rainy.

Now ready to think about something else?

Have you heard the term brainstorm?

Of course you have.

With all due respect to dictionaries, the word explains itself. 

Why do some people make things complicated?

I have no idea.

Simply put, brainstorm is like having a storm in your brain. Whatever form the storm takes; psychological, mental, spiritual, or something else, it usually stirs and blows with new ideas, and perhaps new solutions too.

So…  this kind of brainstorm is just like a weather storm. It can cause a sudden flood of ideas and energy that turns on every fuse in your brain. And then, suddenly, you see new things and find new solutions, and feel, absolutely, elated.

But sometimes a brainstorm means totally the opposite. That’s when it blows everything away, and causes both a power cut and long delays. In this case, things feel blurry and dull, and you end up feeling more confused and lost. 

Perhaps the navigation of a brainstorm depends on a person’s mood, or maybe on their motivation. But sometimes, it also depends on determination. 

Dont’t people say that if there is a will, there’s a way?

And they also say; after every storm, the sun will smile again.

So whether the storm turns on the light or cut it off, it will pass, and when it does, we’ll all glow with relief and joy.

With shiny thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

The Poem

nhpureandsimple

I picked a random Arabic poem for my daughter to read, and it turned out to be a simple piece with a deep meaning.

It says:

The girl dreams.

The girl draws.

She drew a girl with two wings,

Where will she fly?

She doesn’t know.

She will fly everywhere.

She will whisper to human consciousness: 

Enough pain.

The World has had Enough.

Let peace live on this earth.

Isn’t it beautiful?

Doesn’t the world need a poem like now more than ever?

A poem that carries a child’s dream—

a dream of humanity,

of kindness,

and of peace.

With peaceful thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

The Moon

nhpureandsimple

It seems that January and I are going to play a special game this year.

Yesterday he sent his first greeting, enclosed in snow.

Today he wishes us good night through the full moon.

And what a lovely good night it is! 

I was just going to lock the window when that full, luminous creature showed up in the faraway sky. 

He pushed the dark clouds aside the very moment I was about to draw the curtains.

No words can describe either his beauty or my happiness.

It was a surprise.

A wonderful surprise!

The moon is there in the sky every night. 

Sometimes he hides.

Sometimes he tires.

And sometimes he sleeps.

But… how often do we notice it? 

How often do we pause to feel its light? 

How often do we appreciate its beauty? 

Do you know that in olden times, people were inspired by the moon?

It was a symbol of hope, dreams, and mystery.

But… doesn’t this make sense? 

Every great aspiration dreams higher and higher,

and every “higher” is there, up there in the sky.

Why don’t we just gaze up and contemplate?

With moony thoughts, 

Nahla

Just writing

The First Snow

nhpureandsimple

This was the first greeting on the second of January.

The first snow had landed, safe and sound.

Today painted a wintery image;

with heavy coats, beanies, and gloves;

footprints,

long traffic queues,

and hustle and bustle everywhere.

“It’s snowing!”

I heard everyone scream… figuratively. 

It was fun.

I heard them laughing too. Well … that was actually my daughter and me.

An hour later,

The sun shone on and threw its golden threads across the snow.

The snow glared, and its thin layer began to melt.

Alarmed, the fluffy clouds fled for their lives,

towards a different destination… perhaps yours.

And then… there was no way to make a snowman.

But… maybe January has better surprises than just a snowman.

With snowy thoughts,

Nahla