Tag: life

Just writing

Joy and Blogging

nhpureandsimple



Blogging is really fun. Well… that’s how I see it.

Imagine writing with no obligations, no deadlines, and no pressure. Just you, your thoughts, your imagination, and your piece of writing.

And … it’s also another way to hear others and be heard. Some voices are loud, some whisper. Some are bold, some shy. Some dramatic, some romantic. Some informative, some subjective. Isn’t that beautiful?

How interesting it is that, within this big collection of voices, you, in most cases, don’t know and would never expect to cross paths with another blogger. It’s even more interesting that you may have nothing in common. Your origins, cultures, religions, beliefs, and even your mothertongues might be totally different. The only thing that brought you together is blogging, which may also be for different reasons.

Isn’t it a joy to find peace in writing?
Of course it is.

No wonder some people say that writing is a simple, soothing remedy for mental and emotional well-being. Perhaps it’s because the paper, or the screen you’re tapping on, just listens. It waits patiently until you finish your piece with no interruptions, no complications. Perhaps it’s because you can express yourself, your feelings, and your thoughts more freely in writing than speaking. Or maybe… it’s simply because you love the feeling of being a writer.

And finally, there’s a joy in reading others’ thoughts which can make you smile, laugh, cry, or even teach you something new … and maybe even different.

Keep writing with joy!


With hope and peace,

Nahla






Just writing

Don’t Follow This Reading Strategy

nhpureandsimple

I’m currently reading one of Henry James’ books. As usual, I knew about the book while reading something else. I read its description on Goodreads and decided to give it a go. The story is simple, and the characters are few and not complex.

Things seem good so far, right?

No, it isn’t.

I started reading the book last month, and I’m not even halfway through. Perhaps I picked it up at the wrong time. I mean, it’s the summer holiday, with so much going on. But no, that’s not why it’s taking me so long to finish.

The prose is my main problem. I can’t enjoy reading it. Whenever I reach an interesting part, the author starts analysing and exploring another point. Still, I keep reading, hoping the book might surprise me… or I’ll finally give myself permission to stop.

So far, nothing has happened, and that’s why I advise you not to follow my reading strategy because it’s just stubborn.

I usually read at night but this book makes me yawn, and my eyes grow tired  before bedtime. I decided to speed up the process by reading during the day, but my patience wore thin. There’s always other chores to do, and reading this book will be the hardest. I tried the audiobook, but my mind kept wandering to many things except the book. And then, I thought: maybe it would be better to make some change. So I picked up another book, hoping to return to the first one with fresh eyes and some interest.

As I was searching for another non-fiction book, I came across a medical one titled Love Your Disease. Have you read it? It’s a bit like “love your enemy,” but is that even possible?

By the way, it is not totally medical with scientific terms and theories. It’s quite readable, with real-life experiences shared by a doctor about his patients. But since it’s not fictional, and I am not a physician, I feel I can neither accept nor discuss the book. In short, after skipping so many parts, I decided to stop reading it.

So, I’m back to James Herny. No, it’s Henry James. And, I’m just as determined to finish the book as I am to never read another by the this author.


With hope and peace,

Nahla

daily prompt

Writing: It’s Just Like Cooking

nhpureandsimple

What do you enjoy most about writing?

Well… that was the first thought that crossed my mind today.

But don’t you agree that writing is just like cooking?

Let me explain why.

Both writing and cooking rely on talent and taste. And, just like cooking, writing comes in different styles and varieties.  Your first attempts at both are usually awful and funny. Day after day, month after month, and years later, you begin to master your craft and savour your own unique flavour.

Have you ever thought about how writing and cooking push all your senses to the frontline when you’re on a mission? Of course they do. Both need colours and flavours, moments of quiet and noise, and the ability to stir some emotions— just as much in your cooking pot as in your piece of writing.

Copy and paste doesn’t work in writing or cooking. Don’t people say the same recipe tastes different when prepared by two different hands? The same idea applies to writing—and what better example than our responses to daily writing prompts? Your dish, as well as your piece of writing, carries your own unique signature, even if you follow all the “should do” and “shouldn’t do” rules.

And then there’s time —this precious and the most needed ingredient in both writing and cooking. Keeping it light is possible in both activities: you can boil a few eggs or scribble a few lines. But when you’re really in the mood to enjoy a good meal or to pour your heart and soul into your writing, you take your time. You wait and, sometimes, you even pray for the right moment.


And, it’s normal … actually, quite common to fall under that lagging spell that hits you like a heatwave. It becomes too warm to eat, too lazy to write. You don’t feel like cooking or writing. This sluggish phase might last a day, a week, but hopefully not much longer. Of course, it depends on how much you enjoy your homemade meals and how much power you have over your mind to pull yourself out of that lethargy.

One more thing worth mentioning about this combination of writing and cooking: it’s the element of surprise. You start with something, but unexpected things happen, which might turn completely different. The rice smells like burning popcorn, the soup thickens like pudding , and the dessert looks and tastes like something from ancient times.

Writing is even more surprising. First, an idea pops into your head, just a mere idea. With sighs, smiles, and knitted brows, you let the thoughts flow and begin to write. When you feel satisfied, you stop. Then you scan your piece again, wondering how and when you wrote this piece.

But that’s what I love most about writing— it surprises you and challenges the writer in you.

And, don’t forget that both writing and cooking like company, love inspirations, and adore compliments.

It’s truly enjoyable to share food and blog posts, isn’t it? As long as both are edible and easy to digest!

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Just writing

Switching Reading Genres

nhpureandsimple

It’s a good idea to switch up your favourite reading genre every now and then, isn’t it?
Well… I think so.

Take me, for example —I enjoy fiction, mostly classics. But sometimes, I feel … not bored, but craving something different. It’s kind of like craving dessert after a heavy meal.

Over the last week, as I was reading one of Henry James’ books at a turtle’s pace, I decided to browse a book on home remedies. It turned out to be both interesting and funny.

It was interesting because the book offers simple, useful remedies that might make you think twice before rushing to see the doctor. And, it was funny because, sometimes, it includes folk remedies that are pure superstiton. Honestly, I don’t read it cover to cover… just pick some topics about common ailments.

One of the most interesting points these books both explain and emphasise is Hope. As I read, I can feel how their natural remedies reflect the idea that every illness has a remedy—the very thing I deeply believe in.

Here’s a quote about the exact point:

“For every ill beneath the sun
There is some remedy or none,
If there be one, resolve to find it;
If not, submit, and never mind it.”

Now, what do you do when you have a hiccup?
Here are two simple remedies:

“Think of your lover. If he loves you, you will not have it anymore.”

And in case he doesn’t, you can recite this old English verse:

“Hickup, snickup, stand up, straight up,
One drop, two drops—good for the hick-up.”

That last one gave my daughter and me hiccups as we burst into laughing when I told her about it!


With hope and peace,

Nahla


daily prompt

The Extinction of Mail Service

nhpureandsimple

Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.


This is the latest news on Pure and Simple Channel, which nobody seems to care a whit about. This is likely because the term “mail service” is no longer in use in today’s world.

Here’s the news; There’s a widespread complaint about mail service across the globe. It claims: “Since the postman left, there hasn’t been an honest message.

Have you heard this piece of news?

Well, it’s just come to my attention that the news was just a saying—or perhaps a quote. FYI, in case you decide to look it up.

Anyway, isn’t that saying or quote so true and insightful?

How is the postman doing in your place?

Well… in mine, the postman shows up once a week, if not longer, and delivers mostly ads, bills, and donation bags. Worse still, it seems no one looks forward to seeing him anymore. Oh, the poor man and the mail posts have become old-fashioned on the road to extinction.

Now, what do you think we’ve been missing since the postman left?

Perhaps the design of the stamp, the scent of the paper, the genuine affections in the words, the smile hidden behind those brief greetings, the longing in between the lines, the long details, the casual sentences, and the unique signature at the end.

In other words— when the postman left, the letter lost its pure and simple message.



With hope and peace,

Nahla

daily prompt

kindness and Blogging

nhpureandsimple

Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.


Honestly, the first thing that crossed my mind was Me blogging —in other words, how to be kind to myself as a blogger.

Need more explanation?

I’m like many other bloggers— I love using my voice in writing. I enjoy sharing my thoughts in my own style, and I like taking my time. So, whenever I feel disappointed or lazy or even stubborn about blogging, I try to be kind to myself.

Want to know how?

I pause— sometimes for hours, sometimes for days. During that short or long break, I gently remind myself that I write because I love it. My posts are just like little mental treasures I’ve discovered the day I started my WordPress journey.

And finally, usually with a smile, I say: if I don’t regret any of my writing, if I haven’t offended anyone, and if I’m not chasing anything but the joy of showing my talent—then why stop. That’s when I feel it’s time to fasten my seatbelt and take off—I’m on a writing mission again.

Perhaps it seems odd not to care too much about likes, shares, or subscribers. But that’s another way I practice to be kind to myself. It’s not that I don’t want my posts to be liked or shared — or gain more scubsribers. Is there any blogger who wouldn’t like that? Of course not.

It’s just me thinking that likes and shares would add more pressure. It’s like inviting people over and waiting for them to show up, wondering what if they don’t. So, I prefer to let readers knock, visit, or explore freely — no pressure, no high expectations. And, please don’t be offended if you feel differently because things depend on personal style and preference.

Just remember to be kind to yourself too, and if you love blogging— don’t stop.


With hope and peace,

Nahla







Just writing

The Noble Prince

nhpureandsimple

Have you ever passed by such a beautiful robin?

He was standing just like that— perched on the back of the rusty bench while my daughter and I were walking in the park. She saw him first and whispered to me, “Look, Mama, look at that robin.”


“Oh, so cute,” I whispered back, and we both froze on the spot— wondering whether to move closer or walk away.

We quietly moved closer, and—surprisingly— the noble prince remained on his throne. Whether it was humility or pride— he stayed silent, his tiny eyes seemed to watch us.

How I wished he would sing— something, anything. But he seemed to have no song. Still, we couldn’t blame him; it was such a grey, humid, and hot day.

At least we were honoured to capture a photo of the park’s noble prince.

With hope and peace,

Nahla

daily prompt

Meals Routine—Past and Present

nhpureandsimple

What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?


I was born and raised in Cairo, Egypt, following a traditional meals routine. I still remember the mouthwatering flavours, the warm gatherings, and the funny moments. But, I no longer follow that routine—not because I don’t want or because I can’t. It’s simply because it just slipped out of my days as the years went on and on.

So, back then in Egypt, we used to have three meals a day: breakfast, dinner, and supper. But, of course, there were lots of snacks and desserts in between. Not to mention the roasted peanuts and pumpkin seeds during those long summer nights—whether out in the balcony or inside as we gathered around the television.

Our breakfast and supper were usually light and simple: tea, milk, and a cheese or jam sandwich made with fresh bread straight from the bakery.

Breakfast usually started early, around six or seven in the morning, since everything else began early too. We’d eat in a hurry so we wouldn’t be late for school, university, or work. Then, we had another full breakfast around ten during the mid-morning recess. Supper was usually by eight or nine at night.

Dinner was the main meal with traditional Egyptian dishes. We always had it by half past three when the whole family was home—father back from work and children from school. Back then, my family never dined out or ordered in. But of course, we did have dinners with relatives and friends — especially during the holidays.

When I moved with my husband to the UK, that traditional routine changed, not immediately, but gradually. So, instead of the two breakfasts, we have just one. Then we were introduced to lunch at noon, followed by the late afternoon dinner that kicked out supper from our routine. Still, we remained faithful to having snacks and desserts in between.

Now, food is another story in my break from the traditional meal routine— please understand that was entirely unintentional. It began with cornflakes and toast, which (thanks to my children) became part and parcel of our daily life, just as essential as water and air. Praise the Lord, they no longer crave any.

I love cooking and baking—and, of course, I love Egyptian food. But… though our dinners are usually home –made, we dine out every now and then. Besides, our traditional food is not one hundred percent traditional. Perhaps because the food and flavours are not the same. But, that’s also because I’ve started creating new meals, following my own simple recipes.

Thank God, my food, in most cases, turns out delicious, and my family devours it all.

When it comes to food, there’s some sort of flexibility to change your traditional routine.

Am I right?

I think I am.

With hope and peace,

Nahla

daily prompt

Dinosaurs: Bring Back or Send Over

nhpureandsimple

If you could bring back one dinosaur, which one would it be?

I don’t know why, but I’ve never been interested in dinosaurs—perhaps because of their scientific names, with their long, complicated spellings and pronunciations, which could give one nightmares.


Thank God they went extinct millions of years ago, for we literally have such an abundance in human clothing across the world.

Don’t you believe me?

But of course you should.

Haven’t you heard of the most  advanced cloned versions of dinosaurs?

The Powersaurs, Moneysaurs, Scienceosaus, Mediasaurs, Idiotosaurs, and others from the Humanosaur family. Actually, the Justosaur is also part of the family, but unfortunately, it seems quite powerless and alienated.

See, it doesn’t make much sense to bring a dinosaur back. But… maybe a sample of the cloned version could travel back in a time adventure set millions of years ago. Back then, they might learn the truth—the scientific lesson they seemed to have missed at school: dinosaurs and humans didn’t co-exist.

Now, which is better: to bring one back or send one over?



With hope and peace,

Nahla

memories

July 1999—More shocks

nhpureandsimple

As it’s the holiday season, I’ve found it a bit hard to write like usual. Are you having the same challenge?

Anyway,  I remembered that I had planned to complete my last post—so here it is, finally! Today, I’m writing it, crumpling  all my other first shocks from Jully 1999 into this one.

Have you read my previous post? I hope you have, but don’t worry if you haven’t. It was just about some funny memories — which you might not find funny at all.

So, the second shock was the rain—not just normal rain. No. It was torrential downpours that welcomed us on our first night in the UK.

Imagine leaving the blue sky in Cairo with its boiling 40°C heat, only to land in semi-sunny weather—and just before going to bed, hearing the symphony of heavy showers outside. There, in that dark night, fat drops of rain started smashing against the windows of our room. That night, I thought it would never stop.

Being a bit imaginative, I exaggerated and turned the typical English weather into an unexpected phenomenon— with yellow warning alerts. I wove scary tales about myself walking through a hurricane with a useless umbrella. My tales seeped into my dreams and turned them into nightmares. That night, sleep was hard to find or even to invite. I wept buckets all night.

The next morning, the sun shone and reigned over the sky, proud to have melted all the puffy grey clouds from the face of the earth. The day was so warm that I wondered whether the heavy showers from last night had been just a dream.

Can you guess what my third shock was?

It was the quiet nights.

Since there was no availability in student accommodation, we ended up renting a flat in a good area that was a bit expensive but so quiet. Not that there were no humans around. Of course, there were! But the thing is, they rarely crossed your path.

When night fell, life seemed to pause.
No open shops.
No family outings.
No dogs barking in streets.
No fighting cats.
No neighbours yelling out of balconies.
No children chasing each other on the road.
Nothing but quiet, dark roads stretching out into the night.

And then, one night, out of that dead quietness, our doorbell rang at midnight. Our friends were too far away to pay us a visit. And midnight visits? That was impossible.

My husband was studying, and when he saw me standing before him, my eyes wide open, staring at him. He told me it was a drunk man who had mistaken our flat for his own and had probably found his by now. But then… we heard keys jingling and turning into our door lock.

‘He’s going to break into our flat,’ I gasped.
‘No, he’s going away soon,’ my husband said, just as the drunk man began signing and laughing.

Soon, he disappeared.

These first shocks turned into funny memories later on, and whenever it is July again, I remember those first days in England back in 1999.



With hope and peace,

Nahla