Just writing

Curiosity and Adventure

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Are they closely related?

You might find yourself curious about something or someone. You might be eager to seek more details, sneaking and sniffing here and there like a cat after a mouse, and staying alert day and night like a secret detective on a top- secret mission. What you are investigating might be non of your business, or it could be part of your own business. In any case, you won’t rest, won’t give up, and will never feel satisfied until you uncover what have been mysterious for you.

Isn’t this what curiosity is? Am I exaggerating, a bit?

However, you won’t be curious unless you are interested, attached, and involved with that specific person or thing. For example, when your neighbour’s driveway is suddendly full of cars, your curiosity might soar to its highest levels. But, you won’t be as interested in a similar situation on the next street.

Hence comes the close relation between curiosity and adventure, for, of course, you won’t be glued in the spot if you’re curious about something or someone. You’ll need to move in one direction, or all directions. However, this is when problems, dangers, and mistakes become too close to happen if you’re not careful enough. Your curiosity could become like the one that killed the cat. That’s when the two cousins, curiosity and adventure, turn you blind and deaf to reason, and push you from the brink of the cliff.

Strange how both curiosity and adventure can brighten your life and also darken it!

Have you read Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier? Mary’s story might give you a living example of these two related traits?

Here’s the link for my review:

/https://nh825.wordpress.com/2025/01/27/jamaica-inn/

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Would You Take The Risk?

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If you had a choice to play the big gamble in your life, to stand still before a fully loaded gun save one of its chambers, listen to the click of its trigger, and wait for the bullet that might be fired and hit you dead, or for the one that would never come out. You might end up lying dead on the ground, or you might go home with a million pounds. What would you do?

That was one of the oddest and simplest questions I never expected to be asked during my converstation exam in my final year at university. To be honest, I was pleased to have this one, and I felt so blessed.

Do you want to know why?

Simply because my answer slipped off my tongue without giving it a second thought.Things wouldn’t have been the same if any of my friends’ questions had been mine. It wasn’t because theirs were harder, but because, sometimes, you just can’t talk genuinely about everything.

‘No, I wouldn’t risk my life.’

‘But, it’s a million pounds. There’s a chance you could get it.’

‘Even if they paid me the money in advance to enjoy and spend my life before making the gamble, I wouldn’t take the risk. My life is priceless, and my God didn’t bless me with a divine soul to gamble with it.’

That was my answer, and that year I got the best mark of my converstation exams over the four years of my university studies.

Money will come anyway, whether a little or in abundance, but you live once, and this once can be millions lives, both imaginary and real. Would you risk all that for just a million pound that might worth nothing in the next hour?

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

P.S. I think nowadays the million pounds prize should be, at least, a trillion.

Just writing

A friend to all

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… is not a friend at all.

Have you ever heard this saying? It makes sense, doesn’t it?

Isn’t it odd that one can be your friend and your rival’s, your opponent’s, even your enemy’s? You can, of course, be kind to all, but not a friend to all. I am not talking about social media friends, for in this case you can be a friend to millions. Online frienhip is exactly what it implies “online”. I am talking about real, close friends who you can trust, love, agree, or even disagree with. Perhaps that’s why true friendship is a rare gem, too hard to find and too precious to keep.

In fiction, and in real life, true friendhip could take you by surprise. An old man might be a young child’s best friend, a man of the world might be a saint’s, a prisoner might be his keeper’s, and an animal might be a man’s. In all cases, its the quality,  not quantity that makes unique friendships.

Wouldn’t it be better if this friend of all should be a passerby after all?

Perhaps you can change the saying and add whatever you like.

A friend to all …..

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

memories

The honest

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Honesty is a noble, human trait, and I believe that, along with  kindness, it will never die out. But, honesty is truely unique when it is genuine and touches your heart. I am not referring to the type of honesty that comes with formal interrogation or businesslike settings; I mean honesty that simply slipped off the tongue when you feel you compelled to be honest at that moment, regardless of any costs or requirements.

Last summar, just before moving, my eldest son, my daughter, and I went for a long walk by the seafront. It was a  clear, hot day, with overfed seagulls soaring and screaming all of the sky. They looked as much happy and busy as all the people walking along the parade.

What could be better than having a fish and chips meal on such a summary day? We headed towards a fish and chips takeaway restaurant which was so busy with long queues waiting to either make or collect orders. I always tell my family what I’d like to order and wait outside as far as possible becuase I can’t bear the smell of frying oil, especially on boiling days. However, on that particular day, my son insisted that I go inside with them. Perhaps that was becuase it was so busy outside.

I walked inside with them, and we were waiting for our turn to make the order. As we were talking, I noticed the chef glancing at me once or twice, as if he wanted to say something. When it was our turn, my son gave the order, but then the man looked from my son to me and said: ‘ I just want you to know that we fry pork, sausages, fish and chips, all with the same oil.’

The three of us stood still for a while. It was the first time someone had given us this piece of information without us asking. When we thanked him and declined the order, he said. ‘ I  know you have laws, and I respect that.’

We stepped out hungry, but so happy.

‘Oh, mama, that’s becuase of you,’ my son said.

‘And what have I done?’

‘Your hijab, mama. It’s the first time you came in,’ he laughed. ‘You know how many times we ordered fish and chips from there, and no one told us that before. Such an honest man!’

‘But mama what about the other fish and chips we ate before? My daughter seems more interested in whether we had been making a big mistake.

‘We are allowed to eat fish, so we make an order for fish and chips. God knows that we don’t know it’s been cooked with pork, and in that case we are pardoned. But, from from now on, as we know how things are, we’ll ask every time before having any takeaway.’

I will remember that day forever. This is not only becuase, since then, we know about the frying process, but because of the honest man you come across once in a blue moon.


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Books

The promise

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Have you ever promised someone something?
Of course I have, we all do.

Have you been true to your promise?
Hmm … sometimes, most of the times.

Have you ever broken any?
Well… I can’t remember

Can you trust someone who breaks their promise, who couldn’t stand by their word?
Never … but unless it was inevitable.

Would your answers be any similar?

You might forgive once, but when things happen twice or more, nothing can heal the wound of mistrust. It’s better not to give a promise at all than to give one with any possibility of being unable to keep it. It’s not only unethical to break a promise, but also heartbreaking, disappointing, and deceiving.

However, what if the promise itself is impossible, dangerous, or unethical? Would you blindly, stubbornly fulfill it? Or would you listen to your heart and reason, and break it? 

That’s what the new book I am currently reading is all about. A girl, in her early twenties,  gives her bedridden mother a promise to move and live with her aunt after her death. From the very beginning, starting with the cold letter she receives from her aunt, to the long, miserable journey she makes, to people’s fear and shock about her destination, to the first sight of her aunt and her husband, everything seems to be shouting at her to break her promise and forget about it. If her mother were able to rise from her grave, she would do, so just to tell her daughter to forget about that mistaken promise and flee from her Aunt’s house. But, the girl, full of curiosity and stubbornness, stuck to the promise all the same.

I’ll let you know more when I finish it.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

P.S. The promise is not the title of the book

Just writing

The actor

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I once heard that an actor’s testimony can not be validated. I have no idea whether this notion has any reference, but I suggest it’s merely a point of view, likely as a reference to the lack of credibility.

Acting is a talent before being a profession. How many actors are there in the world? Countless, right? But how many are truely talented? Just a few, wouldn’t you agree?

The talented will make you weep, scream, laugh, hate, love, and sympathise with them. Above all, they make you believe whatever they’re giving you. The untalented will make you neutral, if not bored.

Perhaps, this is why some think that a real actor’s testimony might be considered invalid. After all, the courtroom can’t be a stage, and truth can’t be dramatised. Truth has to be proved with competent, relevant, credible, and unbiased testimony.

Have you ever noticed how many writers make it clear from the very beginning of their novels that it’s all fictional? They don’t want to mislead their readers, to bear no responsibility if things were not accurate. While the story and characters may reflect something or someone in real life, it’s all based on imagination.

Truth can’t be imagined, but imagination cam help us see the truth.

What do you think? Are you still reading? Pray tell, you are!

By the way, there are many unknown actors who perform better in real life than on the stage. They are professional, but not talented. Ironically, they can’t be exempt from giving testimony. Hopefully, the judge, would never be one.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Books

Obsession

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I wonder if obseission is a psychological, complex problem? In fact, I believe it is.

It is like idolization, you fall for something or someone and make them like air and water in your life. Both are desturctive, but I think obsession is even worse. This is because idolization, sometimes, is out of true love which can be blind or selfish. But, obsession is mainly about possession, fear, and greed.

In both cases, either in idolization or obsession, you can’t see the truth, you can’t listen to reason.

Perhaps, that’s why this quote makes a very good sense: “Truth was something intangible, unseen, which sometimes we stumbled upon and did not recognize, but was found, and held, and understood only by old people near their death, or sometimes by the very pure, the very young.”

Do you agree that only the old, the very young, and the pure can sometimes see the truth? Do you think that might because they are no longer obsessed or have not yet become obessessed?

My Cousin Rachel  by Dephne Du Maurier  can tell you more about obessission. Here’s a link for my review.

/https://nh825.wordpress.com/2025/01/20/my-cousin-rachel/

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

Artificiality

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If you could un-invent something, what would it be?


Man-made inventions are part of artificiality, right?

Look around you now, wherever you are, how many things can you spot that are man-made, unnatural, or artificial?

As I am sitting at home now, I can tell you that most of my surroundings are artificial, except for me, my family, my birds, the dates I’m nibbling on, and the front garden I keep glancing at out of the window on my left side.

Do we need artificial things? Of course we do, but I believe extra artificaility become too much – too much to buy, too much to wear, too much to eat, too much to show off, even too much to go, etc.

Imagine making a simple homemade cake. All you need is flour, butter, eggs, sugar, and baking powder. You can add some natural flavours and fruits. Done. But why, that’s not enough. Artificiality implies more ingredients: icing sugar, marshmallows, chocolates, strange colours, and exotic flavours. Now, isn’t that too much. That’s just a simple example of how extra artificiality can turn from what we need to what we greed.

That’s not all with artificiality. I mean it’s become more than things and settings. It extends to human feelings, communications, and behaviours. You make a cake to eat, maybe to celebrate something, or perhaps you just crave it. Happily, you devour it at once or in two days. Your family might have some too. You might feel a bit disappointed if an unexpected visitor decided to pay you a visit on that special day and have the last piece of your almost finished cake. Those are simple, natural feelings.

With extra artificiality, you dress like a celebrity, take ten photo shots, add animation, emojs, music, tags, and finally share your special cake creation with the entire world. Then, you bin it because you are on diet. All the fun is artificial, short-lived, and forgotten in a split second

If there is anything I wish to un-invent, it would be this extra artificiality.

Perhaps this post will be your and my first step!

With all the best wishes,

Nahla.

P.S. Artificiality is the first thought that crossed my mind when I read today’s prompt, and though I didn’t write it all straightaway, I wrote down the title before it disappeared. It’s a recommended writing skill, I really appreciate.

daily prompt

To be loved

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Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?

It is to feel relief, comfort, and safe when crying into your beloved’s arms.

One day, just after the lockdown, I was walking home from school with my daughter. As we neared the end of a shortcut side road, I glanced at someone walking with a small child, about three years old. I immediately recognised the child as my new friend’s son, and guessed the person with him was his father. After brief greetings, the man asked if I knew his wife.

‘Yes,’ I replied looking down at the child, feeling uncomfortable. No one had ever stopped me on the road to ask whether I knew his wife before. If it werent for the child I was looking at, I would have ignored the man.

‘She died,’ said the man, and my head snapped towards him. Shocked, I remained silent wondering whether what I had just heard was correct.

‘Because of COVID,’ he added, and I stood there, still, all the convenient words ran out of my mind.

He added a few sentences, I didn’t hear and I didn’t want to hear.

‘May Allah rest her soul, and make Eden her eternal home.’ I finally said and walked away from him, clasping  my daughter’s hand tight.

‘What he was telling you, Mama,’ my daughter asked as she always found it hard to understand different dialicts of Arabic.

‘Will tell you later,’ I told her as we hurried toward our house.

I knew my daughter guessed what he said, because the word died was clear and harsh as he said it. We went home, and my daughter ran to her room. I knew she did’t want to know anything about the man or what he said.

There, my eldest son had just come home, and after one look at my face, he knew something was wrong. My tears flooded down my face as I leaned against his shoulder.

‘I can’t believe she died …I had …  known her … for … a few months … and her children …. they are … still young.’ I wept and wept, and my son listened, patting my shoulder until I had no more tears to shed.

‘But her husband had no sense. I just want to punch him in the face. How could he just throw that heartbreaking news at someone he doesn’t know, and on the road.’

‘Yes, Mama, but now you’re better.’

Can anything else be better than crying into your beloved’s arms?

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Books

A reader’s conflict

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Last week after finishing an interesting book, I decided I wouldn’t write a review about it. But since then, I kept thinking I had to write down my thoughts about it, otherwise my mind wouldn’t rest, wouldn’t stop replaying it in my head.

Can you guess why I had this conflict?

Actualy, this conflict was what inspired me to write my  “Villians” post, a few days ago. In that post, I was reflecting on my own conflict on how to feel about the book. I enjoyed it, but mainly because it was full of suspense and adventure, but I couldn’t sympathise with the characters. Perhaps that’s what the author wanted from the reader, to not sympathise with the characters.That’s what exactly I meant when I wondered whether you, as a reader, would enjoy the adventure for its own sake, or the story that touches your heart with a moral message.

If you want to know a bit more about the book, have a look at my review. Here’s the link:

/https://nh825.wordpress.com/2025/01/17/the-frenchmans-creek/

With hope and peace,

Nahla