Tag: life

memories

To Panic is To Laugh

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I once heard that laugher can relieve panic attacks. You may wonder, as I do, how someone in a panic attack could think of anything funny. Some say a person can force themselves to laugh. Perhaps this advice is based on scientific studies, or maybe it’s just an old folk remedy.

But, based on my own humble experience, I can also say that many cases of panic attacks end up being hilarious incidents.

One day before last Christmas, things went a bit spooky—just like a halloween night. December is known for its freezing weather, short days, and long nights—not to mention its violent storms. That evening, my daughter was invited to her friend’s birthday party at some restaurant in town.

Darkness fell early that evening, and strong wind began to pick up. My plan was to take the bus, stop by my husband’s workplace, and then we go together to pick up my daughter.

The moment I stepped onto the bus and scanned my ticket, I felt as if I were in the wrong time or on the wrong bus. The bus was almost full, but not of the usual passengers. Instead, it was packed with people who looked as though they were going to a party. Men and women with different ages were dressed in shiny, glittering outfits.

Slowly, I made my way to the nearest available seat and sat next to a woman who was deep in slumber. I checked the time and it was just past five pm, and I was sure I was on the right bus.

As the bus pulled away, the party started—not with singing or dancing but with loud, chaotic conversations. It was as if they were on separate buses, shouting across the road. They were planning and arguing what food or drinks to order. It was such a noisy and amusing gathering that I didn’t know whether to frown or smile.

We arrived early in town and decided to have a hot drink until it was time to pick up my daughter. The wind pushed and pulled at us as we hurried downhill toward the nearest café. The streets were almost empty— no one was around. If it wasn’t for the Christmas lights, the town would have looked like a haunted place.

We arrived home safe and sound, but not without a few surprises. My husband hurried to the nearest convenience store to buy a few things as weather warnings announced severe conditions.

For the first time since our move, the wooden front gate was locked. (It’s the type with a metal latch that you push up to open or down to lock.) That night, it was fully down and stuck. It became so dark as if it was midnight rather than just past seven pm.

I tried to unlock the gate, but my attemps didn’t work. When I asked my daughter to jump over to try from the inside, she looked shocked as if I had asked her to climb a tree. I tried and tried until the metal moved up— not completely, but enough to be pushed open.

My daughter hurried upstairs to her room to charge her phone while I heated our dinner. Then, all of a sudden, a loud alarming sound echoed all over the house. I ran back and forth, checking everything, trying to find where this sound came from. Then, my daughter started screaming from upstairs, and I ran up to her room.

‘Mama, it’s my phone. It’s making a horrible noise and it’s so hot.’ My daughter was shaking, her face pale as a white sheet.
‘Turn it off,’ I shouted, snatching it from her hands.
It burned in my hand, but the alarming sound had stopped.

We both ran downstairs and left the phone on the kitchen counter, and watching it as if it might explode. The only thought popping into my mind was to throw it away into the garden. Just before taking this action, my phone rang. One of my sons was calling, and I poured out everything that had happened, except my idea to throw the phone away.

‘Are you sure the sound was coming from the phone?’ My son asked.
‘Yes,’  my daughter and I answered at the same time.
‘Was there anything else strange about it?
‘Yes, the screen turned all yellow with a warning message.’ My daughter explained.

My son burst out laughing, just as my husband walked in.
‘Did you get the storm warning message?’ he asked

‘And you were going to throw my phone, Mama,’ my daughter said, the colour returning to her face.
‘And you didn’t even try to read the message!’ I said, and breathed in relief

My daughter and I fell onto the nearest sofa, shaking with laughter, tears rolling down our faces.

What a day! But see? Sometimes, to panic is also to laugh.

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Just writing

May and May

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We’ve had a wonderful, sunny, warm weather over the last three or four weeks?  Can you believe it in the UK? It really did happen! Miraculous isn’t it? That was so encouraging to get out and enjoy long walks under the blue, shining sky.

May always brings special, unique surprises, which relate so much to the auxiliary verb ‘may.’ Both are full of possibilities, wishes, and sometimes permissions. Was the month named after the verb? I don’t know—Do you?

Do you like May? It’s okay if you may not.

I love May because it’s usually warm, colourful, and bright, but it may suprise you with heavy showers— just as the forecast expects next week.

Trees and flowers smile at May. They bloom and blossom, sing and dance, and pray: May our winter be far away!

Insects, too welcome the warmth of May. They explore freely around, but they never use ‘may‘ to sneak or rush into one’s house.

Time flies not at a airplane’s speed but like that of space rocket. And here’s May, almost gone. And you, just like me, still hoping … thinking …  praying that good news may come in abundance.

May the rest of May be kind and reassuring to all of us.

Amen

With hope and peace,

Nahla

personal thoughts

They Can’t Mingle

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There are things that don’t fit, match, or combine. Although anything seems possible these days, this perspective remains well-known and carefully considered.

Yesterday, for example, I decided to make, not apple crumble, but strawberry crumble. It just so happened that I had more strawberries and wanted to use them before they expired. I used the usual familiar ingredients but added something extra—something overflowing from its jar— cocoa powder. I added a generous amount to strawberries and baked the crumble. The result was unique—but not in the yummy way. The sweet crumble turned out bitter and sour. Hopefully, today, it will taste more edible.

Perhaps you like the cocoa–strawberry combination. Actually, I enjoy each ingredient separately, but together I found the mix awful. If only the jar had a bit more space, I wouldn’t have undertaken this experiment. But at least there’s a postive outcome—I’m writing this post.

So, as my crumble experiment proved, some things can’t just be added, mixed, or combined. You can’t, for example, blend truth with lies or belief and atheism. If you do, the outcome will be so vague, so meaningless.

Don’t you see the difference between these qualities—or rather the gap that separates them? But, though they can’t mingle, they can still define each other.

Truth is the quality of being true, while lies are things that are not true. See? They can’t be mixed— just like oil and water. Yet, clever as we are, we create something in between and call it ‘a white lie.’ Ironically, instead of using grey—the blend of two colours—we use white, a solid colour that indicates its separate entity, even though it’s attached to ‘lie.’

Therefore, while we may cross the line between certain qualities, we can never erase it.

With hope and peace,

Nahla












Just writing

Be a Wolf, Not a Donkey

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That’s a father’s advice to his children that I came across as I was scrolling through Instagram.

I paused for a few seconds, staring at the post—perhaps you would do the same. The father says: Better to be a wolf that everyone hates than a donkey that everyone rides.

Honestly I believe this father has his own philosophy, but I couldn’t help but set aside his advice and think about the differences between the two animals. Please don’t think I’m  making any reference to the father for humans are not animals … perhaps … sometimes, metaphorically, some may be, if we live just to eat and drink.

So, wolves and donkeys belong to different categories, right?

Wolves are predators—they definitely eat donkeys. They’re aggressive hunters, social within their packs, and well adapted to their environment. Children hate wolves in fiction, and farmers chase them away to protect their livestock. And, there are some humans who hunt wolves professionally, seeking their soft, thick, and expensive fur.

Do you know that wolves within their own families do not hate each other? Actually, they care for, cooperate, and communicate well among themselves. Wolves rely on their prey. They hunt to survive—which is the ultimate aspiration of any animal life.

Donkeys are herbivorous animals. They’re domisticated farm animals. They’re humble, preseverant, cautious, and well adapted to their environment. In my culture, they are not described so kindly, though. If one is lazy, stubborn, or has an awful singing voice, they might be mocked as a donkey.

Donkeys love company and live in herds, which is why they look lonely and miserable when they haven’t others around. But they can also be aggressive—any prey can be when defending itself. They kick, lunge, and bite. Yet, humans don’t hate them, instead, they use them to their full capacity. And, don’t forget that donkeys too live to eat and survive.

Wolves can never belong to a herd of donkeys, and donkeys can never be part of a wolf pack. They both can live around humans, but humans always manage to have the upper hand with both.

So, wouldn’t it be better to live as a human—not a predator or prey, but as a sensible person with free will?

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Just writing

On the Train

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Whenever I get on a train, I like to sit next to the window. I enjoy it more when my seat faces the direction the train is heading. If I find out that I’m sitting on the opposite direction, I feel a bit annoyed. But once the train starts moving and picking up speed, I don’t feel any difference.

Some people say that the one sitting by the window sees everything except the road. Do you know what this means? This means that some people become too lost in their own world to see anything else.

Have you ever felt this way?

The train is usually full of different people doing different activities just like in real life. Some read books, some work, some play games, some talk, some eat and drink, some make phone calls, some fall asleep, some watch movies, some listen to music, and some just gaze out of the window.

As the train leaves the station and picks up speed, the scenery shifts and changes rapidly. Only the one sitting by the window can feel this flow, this change— if only they choose to. And then, the mind begins to wander, inviting memories and thoughts to flow too.

That’s why, when you sit by the window, the road remains only in a background while your mind recollecting different things. I gaze at the sky, the trees, the vast green pastures, the distant sea, the nearby river, and the horses, cows an̈d sheep grazing and napping. Meanwhile, I let my mind wander only to good memories—pleasant ones— even if it makes up some. But I also warn it not to spoil the fun.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how people can enjoy the journey on the new high speedy trains—those that almost reaching the speed of sound. Why? What is there to enjoy when the rider sees nothing as the train races against time through long, dark tunnels?

So, if you’re taking a train anytime soon, try to sit by the window, gaze out, and think only of good things— pleasant ones. Believe me, you’ll enjoy the journey and feel refreshed.

But if you’re feeling deeply under the weather, just close your eyes and have a little snooze.

Enjoy the week ahead,

With hope and peace,

Nahla

personal thoughts

Multifunction Printers

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A few years ago, we purchased a printer—not as a luxury, but because we really needed one. So, we chose an HP model with multifunctional tasks: printing, scanning, and photocopying (faxing was not included). We still have it, and it’s working fine. We haven’t decided to replace it yet, because it’s just eight years old. However, technology has advanced rapidly in recent years, producing massive, unbelievable changes in the electric devices industry.

In comparison to the modern printers, our poor printer seems to have suddenly aged. Nowadays, we realise that it takes a few minutes, and sometimes even longer, to complete a print order, making us almost give up waiting. Not to mention, how it chugs along during printing, just like an old steam locomotive from the 19th century. Still, I find it really entertaining.

What about multitask printers? I read that they’re the postmodern generation of the multifunctional ones. They can print, scan, copy, and fax at the same time. Perhaps they can talk, maybe even walk. Isn’t that mind-blowing? But, they also say that these new-age printers, though very efficient, have a complex internal mechanism that makes their repair an awful nightmare. So, if it breaks down, you will cry your eyes out over the money you’ve spent because you’ll have no choice but to replace it. That’s why I wish my old printer a long, healthy life.

Now let’s move to the main point of this post. Do you prefer to be multifunctional or a multitasker? But first, let me share my  perspective on both.

There’s both flexibility and practicality in being multifunctional as you can do certain jobs in your own time. However, being a multitasker is like being unbendable and machinery. Any multitasker has to handle more different tasks within nearly the same fixed timeframe just like a multitask printer.


If there’s anything that could summarise a multitasker’s life, there would be nothing better than a juggler tossing and catching balls into the air all his life. He smiles, perhaps laughs, and perhaps putting on a clown costume too—such a good player. But what a life to live when you can’t let go, when you can’t miss the ball, when you can’t stop to breathe, really breathe.

A multifunctional person’s life needs no juggling, no balls to toss and catch. You just pick the right job, just as the bowler picks the right ball. You handle one task at a time, taking your time to fulfill it before moving on to the next task. The bowler grips the ball, takes a good position, and throws it—done. He may hit the target, and he may not, but he does the job with careful calculations and adaptability.

Over the years, I have met many people. I saw how some made their life even harder by choosing to be multitaskers. And they complain about challenges and exhaustion. They wish others would lend a hand or that things were easier. But aren’t they the ones who chose to be the juggler? Why did they choose to work like multitask printers, taking on multiple tasks all at once?

“To be or not to be, that is the question.” is really a great slogan, but I prefer to live by this one: To live, and to choose how to live—that is the question.

With hope and peace,

Nahla








Just writing

Are You the Same Person?

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Oh, don’t think I’m wondering whether you are a real person or an AI. No, this post isn’t about that.

It’s about how much you’ve changed since you started blogging on WordPress.

It’s a bit hard—no a bit weird— to assess yourself. Of course, you can feel the change in yourself, but it’s just odd to evaluate your own work. You can’t be both the examiner and the examined at the same time, right?

When I first started blogging in 2017, I was looking for some change, or better yet, some adventure. My writings were mostly family–based topics. Step by step, new ideas and thoughts began flowing and flooding into my posts.

Do you know what happened next?

In October 2018, I joined a part-time MA program. Can you believe that without my WordPress blog, I probably wouldn’t have been able to enroll? Why? Because in my application, I needed to attach some of my published work. I would have never believed that my WordPress posts could count as published work, but they did. And two years later, I was awarded my MA degree in Creative Writing. Honestly, I had no idea that one thing would lead me to the other—God’s plan, right?

From 2017 onwards, I felt as if I had discovered a secret garden— one filled with trees, flowers, and beautiful birds. And it wasn’t any far—just around the corner, inside my own mind. The garden wasn’t only colourful but serene, with no mayhem, no pressure, and no fixed times. Just me, my thoughts, and my writing.

It wasn’t until 2020 that I decided to pause my visits to my secret garden–not completely, but mainly my blog.The reason was nothing more than the pandemic, with all its chaos affecting everyone. Still, I can’t believe that pause lasted for four years. I haven’t forgotten about my blog, nor have I stopped writing. On the contrary, I wrote and read more than ever before. That’s why I don’t regret my decision back then, becuase I had learned to appreciate every day of my life with both its good and bad moments.

In February 2024, I revisited my WordPress blog with fresh excitement. DailyPrompt was the first thing I spotted, and it felt like a warm welcome back. Since then, I’ve restarted my blogging journey.

I believe my writing style hasn’t changed much, nor has my voice, but my thoughts have. Isn’t that expected? Eight years are not like eight days.

There’s a quote that says: “You won’t find the same person twice, not even in the same person.” This doesn’t necessarily imply to find an entirely different or bad person instead. The idea suggests that change is natural, and a healthy experience that simply needs to be sought out and nurtured.

Do I need to answer the first question in my post, or you, as my assessor, already gets the answer?


With hope and peace,

Nahla







Just writing

The Watching Bird

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I smiled when I saw this gull as I took the photo. Can you see how confident and steady it paused as if it knew about photography and how to master the perfect pose. Perhaps it knows about social media, and dreams of becoming a celebrity among its own kind. That would be totally unbelievable!

As you see in the photo, the sea, the boats, and the clear sky (it was all blue later on) create a beautiful, natural background. But what you can’t see behind my phone camera is the hustle and bustle on the seashore. There were rows of benches lined along the seafront, and people sat there eating, talking, and basking in the sun. We were there too— my daughter and my husband enjoying their ice-cream, and I drinking orange juice. It was just then when I saw that dangerous bird, landing gracefully on that picturesque boat, and watching every soul around just like a hawk watching its prey.

Such greedy birds! Nature provides plenty for them—fish in the sea, worms in the soil, and more hidden beneath the sand. Yet, they are never satisfied. Always looking for the easy catch—human food. Excellent fishers and divers, these birds are professional at snatching and stealing others’ food. They seem to never have their fill—always watching, always wanting. That’s why I call them dangerous.

But they say humans are responsible for these birds’ changing of behaviour. They have spoiled the gulls by feeding them their own food. And that’s also why humans had tried to solve the problem by putting big sings that read: “Don’t feed them.” I saw these signs years ago, but not anymore. However, signs or no signs, the gulls have already adapted to their easy catch meal.

Aren’t there people who behave just like these greedy gulls? Those who have plenty but always set their eyes on what others have, what others eat, wear, and so on. The madness of social media has spread the danger of this phenomenon so badly. If gulls watch out of greed, unfortunately, some humans do the same, plus adding hate and envy.

Ironically, the sign that says: “Don’t feed them” could also apply to us—humans. But would we understand it?  Would we see that we, too, need to stop feeding our bad habits, unhealthy curiosity, and negative feelings toward others. 

Of course, we can—if only we’re willing to.

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Just writing

It’s Not Important

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Today, I came across a beautiful sentence with a beautiful meaning. It says: It’s not important for people to give you a special place in their hearts, because nowadays, hearts seem too small to embrace everyone. However, it’s enough to receive their respect.

Do you know why I find it beautiful?  Because it’s true.

The fast-changing rhythm of life often fills our hearts with disappointment, hurt,  indifference, selfishness, fear, and other negative emotions. Of course, love, kindness, compassion, and other noble feelings still exist, but they are squeezed and squashed with other negative ones. Therefore, it becomes a great challenge for a newcomer to even try to find a place in such a mess.

On the other hand, respect means making a good impression – one that draws others to remember you and seek your company, advice, or simply your presence. In other words, you win their hearts by treading this different, safer road.

That’s why it’s enough to win others’ respect; after all, that’s another way to win their hearts.

With hope and peace,

Nahla



Just writing

A Cake Without Sugar?

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Don’t be surprised or shocked or both because yes there is a cake without sugar, and I’ve just baked one!

But first, with pure honesty, the cake does have sugar. It’s just not the refined kind, but dates and chocolate, instead. So, perhaps, the more accurate introduction to the product should be A Cake With Natural Sugar. (Mostly dates, and barely any chocolate as my daughter said.)

Does it taste good?
Hmmm, I’m the only one eating it, but it’s okay. I should have added more dates and chocolate, but I assumed I had used enough.

Now, do you really think this post is about cakes?

Actually, I was thinking of creativity when my cake pushed itself into the post.

So, everyone has their own special way of showing and practising their creativity. Have you noticed that while reading daily prompt posts? I have.

We may write about the same topic, use similar terms, share similar feelings, but our products will never be the same because we are different. When you use your own talent, hear your own voice, and add your own touch to whatever creative work you’re doing, you are creating something different.

Isn’t that the essence of creativity?  Its uniqueness, right?

Still, we can be inspired by others’ ideas, drawings, sense of humor, or even by a cake without sugar.

With hope and peace,

Nahla