What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?
A month or two ago, my son’s friend brought his cat home for a short visit while he was travelling abroad. Actually it was my suggestion. I was both excited and relieved as a few days won’t form a strong bond between you and your favourite pet—cats.
Cats seem to have an anticlockwise routine, right?
They sleep most of the day, and stay awake all the night.
Perhaps yours is different, but the ones I’ve had the honour to befriend have always followed that routine.
So, when the cat arrived safe and sound, she ran and disappeared behind the sofa.
Expected.
The place was new and so we were.
A few hours later, night fell, and she was still hiding.
I tried to give her food, but she didn’t eat.
I cradled her in my arms, but she leapt away and disappeared behind the same place.
I closed the door and left her in peace.
But there was no peace.
The big fun began—
noise echoed downstairs.
running,
sliding
and jumping.
‘That’s the cat,’ I told my daughter, couldn’t help laughing at her panicked face .
In the morning, we were the ones making the hustle and bustle, and the cat watched us with heavy lids, and half closed eyes.
But by afternoon, she was full of energy.
After stretching her four limbs, and letting out this wide, funny yawn, she jumped and stood onto the windowsill.
Like a hawk, she watched the birds, the flies, and perhaps other creatures we can’t see.
Her tail swayed, and eyes shone as if she was plotting how to catch them for dinner.
A bit later, she tiptoed around the house, exploring every room and corner.
Then she slipped back to her hiding place, curling into her catnap, until it was our turn to go to bed and leave her free to have all the fun she wanted.
Sometimes I wonder if cats can ever skip their catnap?
But I think that would hardly happen.
Honestly if there’s one thing I wish I could add to my routine, it would be the catnap, but then it would be the hardest thing to skip.
It happens that, out of all the books you read, some leave you with funny memories. You may totally forget the author and the book, yet some of its narrative, perhaps its themes, stuck into your head.
Have you experienced this before?
I have, and that’s what inspired me to write this post.
So, in one of the novels by a popular author( whose name I cannot remember right now, and if I try, I will lose the thread of this post)
But you don’t want me to lose the thread, do you?
Now, back to the main point: a parrot was one of the characters in the story. He wasn’t a main character, but an essential one.
Do you wonder why?
Because he brightened the last days of an old lady’s life.
By the way, in Egypt, when one repeats other’s words without thinking— or worse without understanding, they’re called a parrot.
In the story the parrot was… imprudent, throwing swearing words at others, not for fun or for a fight, but because his owner was professional in that craft.
Then one day, the person who was taking care of the parrot while his friend was away on business, decided to give her flat a good cleaning. She grabbed the vacuum, turned it on, and got to work. The place looked so clean and tidy, but something was missing.
She felt something was missing, clearly, definitely missing. And that was it: the flat was so quiet. She could hear a pin drop. But how? Where was the source of everyday noise, the maestro of the swearing symphony?
A few moments later, she saw him, swallowed by the vacuum and trapped inside like a fluffy toy.
She rushed to pull him out and held him in her hands.
His eyes were open and he was breathing, but that was all.
It seemed the shock, whether an electric or emotional, had switched off his brain.
For days, his condition remained unchanged. No noise, no food. Still, he was alive.
A few days later, he was taken to the old lady. She laughed at his mishap, but she also felt sorry for him.
She didn’t give up on him. Every day, she gave him food and water.
Bit by bit, his life was restored, but his voice was never the same. And, the good thing was he lost his old vocabulary. Yet he made the old lady laugh, and she felt quiet responsibility towards that poor creature.
I remember there was a quote that explained how a pet can help people live longer and happier.
I like to think about how, in my blog, I begin to practise creativity, how I find my voice, and how ideas and thoughts start to flow.
It becomes my favourite place in my city of writing.
By the way, I have another favourite place in my imaginative city—books.
You can’t write without reading, can you?
Books are not only for reading with your eyes but also for imagining with your mind.
You imagine characters, and you also imagine their places, their cities, and their era.
Or you may prefer science, philosophy, or even politics, and there too, you’ll find yourself as if you were in your favourite place.
So, wherever you live, in a small or big city, if you pick up a book and really enjoy it, your reading will turn into a visit, short or long, to a special, imaginative spot in your imaginative city.
Just imagine: step out for a moment from the real world, from the actual city.
I couldn’t help laughing when this idea crossed my mind today. It brought back so many funny memories in my homeland.
But isn’t it one of the golden techniques for winning both customer’s satisfaction and their pocket?
It always feels more comfortable when the retailer lets the customer browse around, pick this, leave that, and go out and come back… or not.
But things don’t always go that way, do they?
Sometimes, retailers make you feel so ill at ease that you would think twice before stepping into that place again, or never at all.
So, instead of following the ”never rush the customer” rule, they rush you to choose, try, pay, and leave all in no time.
Honestly, this doesn’t happen often in the UK as it used to in Cairo. Things might have changed, though.
Years ago, most clothings and shoe stores in Cairo wouldn’t let a customer pass by without a warm greeting, a smile, and a hearty invitation to come inside and see more collections. Whether you were planning to buy something or not, the salesman or woman would give it a chance, trying to turn you into a good catch. They’d swear by God that they had the best qualities, the most reasonable prices, and that you would not leave without getting exactly what you had been dreaming of. The point is… you hadn’t been dreaming of anything except getting out of their reach.
This happens sometimes here in the UK. With a warm smile, they approach you and ask, “have you found what you were looking for?” Then, with another smile, they will suggest you to let them know if you need any help. That’s sometimes… because in most cases, you simply wander and browse around with no one following on your heels.
But you know what? Sometimes, you really do need this nice, active seller to help you at some point, especially when you can’t find the right size or length.
Wouldn’t you ask for help?
Well, I did.
But every now and then, I came across this person whose answer is as desperate as their looking.
”We only have what’s been displayed.” A cold answer, without checking, for I might be mistaken, and without even trying to check the stockroom. But, no way, they gave you a flat answer that would send you out with no promise of ever coming back.
If only that old days Egyptian seller had seen them, he would have grabbed you before you made it out the store. He would swear to God that he would turn the store upside down to find what you wanted or at least something similar. He would weave tales about their colleague’s family or health problems just to win your pardon and sympathy.
It’s funny to come across one seller who rushes you to buy and even spend more money, while another rushes you out with a silent “good riddance,” your money untouched.
And, it’s even funnier when you remember those mements with a smile.
Well… sometimes you just don’t know how or why people behave this way or that? And honestly, in this situation, it’s better not to make a big deal of it.
So, today my daughter and I took the bus home. It wasn’t busy, but it was so warm inside the bus. All the windows were locked, and most people seemed to have a bad cold.
Isn’t it normal to open the window where you sit?
I think it is, especially if you feel like sitting in a sauna.
So, I consulted my neighbour, who was my daughter, and she said, “yes please mama.”
I stood, stretched to reach it, and finally pulled it open. Sometimes you just wonder why they design the windows that high… but perhaps it’s for some safety reasons.
Anyway, how refreshing it was to feel the cool air above your head, and to smell the scent of the fresh rain instead of the thick, condensed air inside the bus.
Just a few minutes later, and as my daughter and I were talking, and out of nowhere, I heard a woman’s voice nearby, not asking or even suggesting that the window be closed but saying she was closing it. In a flash, she pushed it shut, and just like a ghost disappeared.
For a second, my daughter and I looked at each other, wondering why she closed the window. She wasn’t the one sitting next to it, and since the seats in front and behind us were empty, there was no way she would be affected by it.
As our journey wasn’t taking long, I didn’t make a fuss. I told my daughter, “Perhaps she was sensitive to the fresh, cold air.” We smiled, and continued our conversation, and soon got out into the real fresh air.
Should I have taken umbrage at such behaviour?
I think… I did better by ignoring her and her action completely.
Today is November the third, and finally I’ve found time to write. Honestly, so far, I have no idea how, or even what, this post will be about. Sometimes there are too many things to say, and other times none at all. It isn’t because you run out of ideas but because you just feel like… maybe later or after this or that. Or, perhaps it was the half-term break, and you wanted to enjoy it fully with family.
So, honestly the only thing that crossed my mind at the very moment was Napoleon. Of all the historical figures, he was the one who crossed my mind.
Strange, isn’t it?
I haven’t studied history in ages, and Napoleon, in my history schoolbooks, was an invader, who decided, out of the blue, to conquer the world through Egypt, to spread enlightenment and civilisation.
But which enlightenment, and which civilisation?
And who ever said there wasn’t any?
And who decided that what he offered was better than what existed?
I have no idea.
But his project didn’t last long, and as far as I remember, for only three years, and then the whole expedition ended in a big failure.
Does this remind you of something else?
Anyway, back to November with its dear winter. It has knocked heavily at the door, bringing the first hints of the season with strong gusts, heavy showers, and long, cold nights. Its company seems delighted to linger. This week, and the following week, are all grey and rainy and gusty. But that’s okay, we’re used to it, and we endure the visit with waterproof coats, warm homes, and delicious, hearty meals. Still, with a hopeful heart, I pray November and its dear guest have remembered to bring along some inspiring moments, not with more Napoleons, but with some… blue and white and sunshine thoughts.
So, please November, be an inspiration of hope and peace, a gift of happiness, and a promise that beautiful dreams may come true.
Today, an hour ago, as I was reading by the window, I glanced at the blue sky. Its beautiful blue invites everyone to gaze into it and forget everything else.
Beautiful, I whispered, and my eyes moved back to my reading. But then, the sun shone into them. I tried to evade its brightness, but couldn’t. It was warm, and we had missed it over the last few days.
So I remained where I was, enjoying its warmth while continuing to read.
Then, all of a sudden, I heard rain, beating rain, big raindrops falling somewhere.
I glanced out the window; no rain. But, I did hear rain.
I moved to another window, and just then it was pouring, generously pouring.
The sun was shining and smiling, happy to watch the rain, just like me.
Oh my… the poor people were running along the streets. It’s been a bit chilly here, but some still think it’s not time for coats. They were running, trying to find any shelter. The trees gave them another cold shower, and the sun began playing her favourite game of hide and seek.
And I smiled.
Then the rain stopped, and the sun was still playing.
Oh my… I remembered the laundry. It wasn’t outdoors, but I wondered whether to take it out or not risk it for my friend still playing hide and seek.
Better not.
But I hate dryers.
I think I’ll give it a try.
That’s how rain and sun can change your day—from weather to whether.
Pure and Simple 