What’s something you do completely differently from how you were raised?
In Arabic, there’s a saying or perhaps an old adage says: I’m not going to live in my father’s garment.
Actually, this saying became the title of a famous TV drama in the nineties.
Anyway, parents, in most cases, want their children to live a far better than life than they did. That’s why they often work hard, save money, and build big dreams for the future of their children.
And, sometimes, parents believe that their children will always follow their footsteps.
But the thing is, life is unexpected.
And this garment whatever it may be; a profession, a business, or even certain traites, won’t always fit the size of their children.
So…even though you and your siblings may have been raised in the same way, your lives don’t have to be the same.
It’s not only about choices, whether to follow this path or that, but it’s also about how life changes, and how it changes you along the way.
What’s the best thing you’ve ever found randomly on the street?
On familiar roads, streets, and cities, memories are often the first things to rise and flow one after another as you walk along and through them.
Have you ever experienced that quiet feeling of nostalgia?
I have.
As you walk along a familiar street, a memory of an old friend, a joke, or even a phone call might pop up into your head without any warning.
Those moments are actually the best gifts you may find along the road, and they may be the most precious too.
Whenever I visit Manchester and walk along Oxford road, where Manchester University is, the memories of our first days in the UK rush back into my mind as if it was yesterday.
Things have changed, though; with new shops, new buildings, and of course new faces, but I don’t mind. My first memories of this city always come back fresh and strong.
There, in the university accommodation which still has its unique name, Horniman House, we lived for quite a few years.
On this road, I walked with new friends from different countries.
On this road, I heard the Manchester accent that was so different from the English I learned throughout my entire education.
On this road, I knew how it felt like to be soaked by the British heavy showers.
On this road, I got my first sunburn under the British glaring, bossy sun.
And there are more and more memories, I find along this road whenever I go there, but that’s enough for now.
What’s a book you never finished but still think about?
Years ago, during the final steps of my wedding preparations, my mother insisted that I should have one of those well- known cooking books in my new home. She had already bought me one before I had even thought about it.
Before getting married, I used to help in the kitchen, but I had never been in charge of making full meals or anything complicated.
So my mother (may God bless her soul) believed that a cooking book would be a good help.
Honestly, I never used it, and I have no idea where I left it.
I might have had a look at it, though, but that was all.
Since then, whenever a booking book, with its colourful, mouth watering pictures and recipes, fell into my hands, I would give it a quick scan and put it back where I found it.
This doesn’t mean I don’t like cooking, because I do.
The thing is, perfection, consistency, exact measurements, are not on every woman’s cooking agenda.
By the way, would you really pause one day to think about a book that you never finished?
If the book was really of any interest to you, then you would have finished it.
Otherwise, you’d ruffle through its pages and quietly set it aside without anyone noticing.
Sometimes thinking too much is not only frustrating but also a kind of torture.
So, for example, when you think too much about writing something, you end up writing nothing at all.
Have you ever felt this way?
I usually don’t think too much before writing. When an idea or a quote or a book or whatever strikes me as inspiration, I grab my iPad and write.
Of course that’s when there are no distractions around.
And I have too many distractions these days.
Now, back to my Thinking Too Much post, the idea simply popped into my head this afternoon as I was reading.
I’ve been reading more of Lisa Wingate’s books. Her writing style is one of the things that won’t bore readers, even when the story itself isn’t that surprising.
For me, a story becomes more interesting when its narrative is captivating.
Anyway, the main character in the book is one of those people who thinks too much, giving both herself and me as a reader a headache.
But this kind of inner turmoil happens in life too. Right.
Some people weave a drama inside their heads that has nothing to do with reality. Or they weave things that do have something to do with reality, but don’t need all this drama.
In both scenarios, the drama doesn’t end until you spill it out. When you finally reveal what’s bothering, what’s annoying, or what’s frightening; all that have been buzzing in your head suddenly quiet down. It feels as if the door was wide open all along, and you were only looking through its magic eye.
The heroine in the story is exactly this type, and she stays that way until truth and reality meet her face to face.
But reading this inner turmoil is not like feeling it. I mean if you ever write your inner overthinking drama down and read it later, you might be surprised by your reaction because you would definitely laugh at yourself.
You would say: why think too much, why not explain things, why not ask about things, can’t you see the open door there, all the time? All you need is to step in, straightaway.
Things may turn out simpler and clearer than what you’ve been weaving into your head. And if they don’t, then at least you can step away but never back behind the door again.
And finally, this post is done and hopefully I’ll finish the book by the end of today.
What’s a moment when you realized you were officially an adult?
I was the youngest of my siblings; my sister was the eldest, my brother was the middle, and the youngest was me.
So I didn’t have to play the adult much.
It wasn’t until I cradled my first baby in my arms that I felt both the beauty of motherhood and the weight of its responsibilities. And since that day, I realised it was time to play the adult.
As a full time mother, I played the adult with its different characters, moods, and shapes.
Yes, I played the kind nurse, the angry doctor, the mad teacher, the patient counsellor, the strict inspector, the loyal lawyer, the secret keeper, the watching owl, and so many others.
But the youngest sibling in me always finds a time and a space, to laugh, to play, and to have fun with family, friends, and even her own-self, with no adult roles to play.
At the beginning of 2026, I set my reading challenge target to sixty books.
A month or two later, I reduced it to thirty.
I thought it was better to achieve the target than to lose track of it.
This wasn’t cheating, was it?
But at least, I’ve been honest with myself.
So over the last two, no three, days, I finished a wonderful book, and it happened to be the thirtieth one.
This means my 2026 reading challenge is officially fulfilled.
Now I can read more, without any pressure.
My best reading challenge score was seventy-eight books in 2023,
and I was so happy with that big harvest.
But honestly, I’m not sure if I had followed the same strategy back then.
I mean if I had started with a target of thirty and ended up finishing seventy-eight books.
Things didn’t work with the same enthusiasm over the last few years, though.
Why? I wonder sometimes.
But, I do know why.
Mainly because of my stubbornness.
Once I set my mind to read a book, I want to finish it; even if I don’t like it, even if it gives me a headache, and even if it bores me to tears.
And I discovered another reason; the high target I set for myself.
Whenever I planned to read more books, I ended up reading far less than expected.
But we do learn from our mistakes.
So, I will stick to my old strategy; start with less and end up reading more.
And perhaps, for stubbornness, I’ll pretend to forget about the books I don’t like until the end of the year. Then I can say, “sorry but your time is out.”
So… well done, me, for achieving my reading target in August.
And I will let you know how many more books I finish by the end of this year.
Pure and Simple 