daily prompt

To be loved

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

daily prompt

A flight will do, right?

Think back on your most memorable road trip.

A year before the lockdown, during the Christmas break, my family and I went on holiday to a beautiful country in North Africa.

Can you  guess which one?

Excited and happy, we headed to Heathrow Airport, had a light meal, browsed around the shops, and finally completed our check-in and boarded the plane.

The flight was full. Passengers, as usual, were talking, laughing, yelling, and some were dozing off. The clicking of seat belts began, and as my husband tried to fix his, he realised that his seat was swinging. I stifled a laught, watching him trying to stablise it, but it was no use. It was broken, but the hostess assured him that it would be fine. No worries!

But worries I couldn’t avoid especially when the plane started taking off. It was the worst, and most violent takeoff I have ever experienced on a flight. The night was clear, and the weather was calm, so I couldn’t understand why things were not smooth. Once the flight disappeared into the sky, and dived into its deep dark waves, announcements of air bumps and turbulences didn’t stop. The plane started shaking, not slightly, but harshly, as if it was a toy in a spoiled child’s hands.

Praying, I did and tried to look cool like the other passengers. My daughter’s seat was next to mine, and we were both full of  fear and worry. When things calmed down a bit, she asked me to swap seats with her eldest brother. I did, and moved to sit next to my middle son.

‘What a great flight,’ he whispered, looking at me, and we both burst out laughing, but just as we started to calm down the plane suddenly dropped. Our hands locked as we sat back, clothing our eyes. A moment later, the drop stopped.

‘Are we going to die?’ He looked at me, laughing.
‘No, we’re going on holiday’.’ I smiled, taking a deep breath to get ready to the aircraft’s miraculous landing.

Thank God, we arrived safe and sound.

‘You have been making this trip quite a lot. Why didn’t you tell me how horrible this flight is? I asked my husband, as we hurried out of the plane

‘You know I fell asleep once I took my seat.’ My husband said, just as simple as that.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

Not a toy story person!

Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?

Take care of your stuff, son. Nahla will bin anything she thinks is of no need or use.” My mother warned  my husband, laughing, when we married years ago.

I don’t get as attached to things or places as I do to people, and sometimes animals. Perhaps that explains why whenever we move to a new place, I adapt quickly, and feel more excited than nervous.

On the other hand, getting attached to people is such a hard, painful experience because that’s life; always changing, always full of surprises.

One day, during the last year of my high school, my best friend’s mother knocked on our door around seven o’clock in the evening. I was surprised to see her as I had barely seen her when I visited my friend. But then, I understood that she was looking for her daughter (my friend) who left the house early in the morning after having a big row with her older brother. Shocked and trembling, I told her I hadn’t seen her at all that day. The mother left, her face full of anger and disappointment. I wept buckets that evening that my sister felt sorry for me and suggested we walk to my friend’s house to see if she had gone home. She did return, and I hugged her so long when she opened the door.

A week or so later, when I entred my class at school, I found another girl taking my friend’s seat next to me. Before I could ask about my friend, the girl gestured to one of the back benches and told me my friend wanted to swap places from now on. As I turned back to see where my friend was, I saw her laughing with one of boldest, most talkive girl in our year group. It hurt so much, more than the day I thought she would never return home. That day, I wept hard, but she was no longer my friend.

From that day on, especially after years of living abroad and meeting different people, I have enough of experience that my attachment to others has become less and less emotional. I have been training and teaching myself to be cool and practical, and expect less than more from others. And, things turn out to be much easier this way; simply like exchanging hellos and Goodbyes.

No strong attachment, no more expectations.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

Fun time

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

Children are, or used to be, always the best at having and enjoying their playtime. But this doesn’t mean that grown-ups can’t have any.

But things change as we grow older. As a child we usualy play to have fun, to enjoy the company of our friends whether in the neighbourhood or at school, and time would stretch before us as if it would never end.

But then, we grow up, and time becomes more precious as it slips from our hands faster and faster. Still, we can grab some fun time, steal some special moments of playtime.

Years ago, we were living in Scotland, and I really loved it there so much. My boys were around ten years old. We were living in a two- bedroom flat with an open kitchen-lounge. Sometimes, no honestly most of the time, just before dinner as we waited for my husband to come home from work, my boys and I would start a funny game. You might wonder why and how I could join them?

My boys at that age were too distant from one another. They would rarely talk or play together unless other friends were around. But since friends aren’t always available, my husband and I became the magnet that would pull them both to each other. That’s the main reason I joined most of their playtime games. The second reason is that I really enjoyed it, the child inside me wanted to play as well. It didn’t  matter to me that I was a full – time postgraduate student with loads of studying to do. I also wanted to have fun and make my boys happy.

One of our best and funniest games was racing around the small wall that separated the dinning area and the kitchen. Sometimes the race would cover the whole flat. The three of us were so light and little that we didn’t consider being any annoyance to others, especially we rarely saw any neighbours in the two – floor building we lived in. But, actually, there was one or two.

When my husband came home, and as we were setting the dinner table, the doorbell rang. My husband opened it, and there was our elderly neighbour. All I could hear from his brief talk with his thick scottish accent, at the door was; ‘It seems like it was raining cats and dogs.”
“What have you been doing?” My husband asked after finishing with the man
The boys told him about the game.
“Where was your mother?”
“Joining us, baba.”

We sorted things out with our neighbour. The following day the boys and I picked a nice card. They explained that they were sorry and promised to be more careful and considerate while playing indoors. Since our neighbour had two, big jumpy dogs, we delivered the card through his door mailbox. It didn’t take long until he paid us a neighbourly visit and brought my boys a nice lego game.

Playtime is when you let the child inside you play, laugh, and enjoy the moment.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Books, Just writing

Playing cards

Before the smart phone games, app games, and all the massive screen based entertainment, some parents used to play cards with their children during holidays and school breaks. I did, still do, though rarely nowadays.

Those moments engraved wonderful memories in our minds. We laughed, shouted, and jumped as we sat in a circle on the carpeted floor to play cards. We played for fun with one rule: the first loser is out, but had to keep sitting and watching until the last round. It was something like “The Weakest Link.”  What made those moments even more enjoyable was how my husband and I called the cards names in the Egyptian Arabic. Our children wouldn’t mind,  wouldn’t even try to use the english ones. They liked it this way.

I wonder, and you might also wonder, why I thought about all that today? That’s becuase of the book I have just finished reading: The Solitaire Mystery. Have ypu read it? I really recommend it. It’s a good book,. But to be honest, I was a bit confused with the English cards names version. I even don’t know what the Solitaire game is? We play basic cards games. Bit by bit, I came to understand things, and that’s when I started enjoying the book more.

Herewith the link for my book review. Have a look and let me know what do you think about the book?

https://nh825.wordpress.com/2024/12/28/the-solitaire-mystery/

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Just writing

Don’t let them age


I remember my grandparents from my mother’s side as I hadn’t seen my father’s since they all died early before he married my mother.

Anyway, my grandparents were barely in their late sixties or early seventies when they died. As a child, I used to believe they were so ancient, so weird. Their house was so big and so old. Not becuase they didn’t have enough money –  they did, but because they didn’t like change. They liked their old furniture, the old walls, the old staircase, and even their old clothes.

From my mother’s tales, especially about her father, I believed he was a monster and a tyrant. By the way, he wasn’t religious, but I am not going to detail more because we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, should we? However, he was, actually, so kind with me. Perhaps, because I used to avoid him all the time, or because I was the quietest of his grandchildren tribe. But, he really was kind, and when he laughed or smiled, I didn’t see him that old at all.

Some people say that the real youth is the youth of the heart and the soul. If you read Mr. MacBride’s story, you will know how important it is to not let either your heart or your soul age.

Have you read The Five Wishes Of Mr MacBride. It’s a wonderful book. Have a look at my review!

https://nh825.wordpress.com/2024/12/17/the-five-wishes-of-mr-murray-mcbride/


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Not soft-drinks

Years ago, I started taking my daughter to a tennis club. Of course, there would be a fun day for parents and children during the Christmas holiday. So far, so normal.

One year, at this sepical occasion, as I was sitting with my daughter, waiting for my husband to join us, a couple joined my daughter and me at the table. After “would you mind” and brief greetings, my daughter and I turned to watch others playing on the courts. So far, so normal.

It wasn’t until I heard the pop of some cans when I turned to the couple at the same table. I didn’t look at them; I mainly focused my gaze on the drinks which, of course, weren’t  soft drinks. Why? How? I wondered, feeling so angry. But that wasn’t becuase I, as a Muslim, felt I was the odd one out. No. That was becuase it was mainly a children event. Is this how people raise their children? How can you encouge a child to play sports and be healthy while you drink in front of them? I was deep in thought and didn’t realise I was gazing at the drinks on the table for more than enough. It wasn’t until my daughter grabbed my hand that I blinked and turned to her. ‘Let’s go and play,’ I told her and went to one of courts.

When my husband joined us, we went back to the table, but the drinks were gone. I felt a flutter of happiness, and turned to my daughter with a broad smile, but my daughter looked startled, glancing at the couples joining our table. I turned to see what was wrong. There, the woman was glaring at me as if I had slapped her. Honestly, I wondered if there was something wrong with her, a mental health issue. I gave her a brief smile, but she kept the same angry face. My husband asked me what was wrong. I shook my head and told him I had not the foggiest idea. But then, I remembered that I saw one of the coaches by our table when we were playing which means he was the one taking their drinks away, not me, but perhaps becuase of me?

After that event, my daughter continued attending her sessions, but we decided there would be no need to participate in any of their holiday events.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

The quiet, shy girl

Have you ever performed on stage or given a speech?

“Are you still quiet and shy as you used to be in university?” A friend asked me one day when we found each other on facebook.
“I think I’ve changed, a bit.” I replied.

It seems like something I was born with. I am the youngest of my two siblings. My father used to take me everywhere. My relatives used to invite me for sleepovers which would extend for weeks. At school, my marks were always good. I never failed. In university, for my converstation exams, my responses were the briefest in class, but my marks were just as good. Still, I was that quiet, shy girl.

I married, moved and studied abroad, and now have three children; two graduate boys and a girl in her first year of high school. Still, I am that quiet, shy girl.

Therefore, going on stage for a speech or performance would be my nightmare. Of course I lived these moments as I had to do them sometimes at school or university. But even though with all my rehearsals and prayers, I couldn’t help my hands from trembling and my heart from pounding.

I always remember my graduation ceremony, it was such a funny, great day. My friends and I were full of the life of spring, shining in beautiful dresses, lining up in a long queue with many others of the same group. We couldn’t wait to step on stage to receive our B.A. certificates and shake hands with Her Honour, our smiley-faced dean. It went so well with all my friends: climbing the steps, shaking hands, turing for the memorable photo, and then climbing down the few steps and joining our families. Just that simple.

But, things went slightly different for the quiet, shy girl. I tripped over my long dress as climbed the steps, but thank God I straightened and steadied my legs, and didn’t fall down. I tried to forget and calm down, but then my graduation cap slipped down my hijab. Before it could fall, I grasped it and tried to put it back on my head, but it would not stay there. There was no time, Her Honour was already extending her hand with a genuine, warm smile. I believe she didn’t give others the same one. With one hand grasping my cap over my head,  I shook her hand and receive my certificate. Then I hurried down the steps, and forgot to take that memorable photo with the certificate and the smile.

But I took other photos and laughed long and hard that day. Sometimes, the quiet, shy girl can be more special and fun than the others.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Life in the countryside

Do you ever see wild animals?

One of the best things about living in the countryside is the ability to handle difficult problems and situations. There, people live and strive to thrive. Using basic ingredients, they can make the most delicious meals and desserts. They can fix broken things, mend old clothes or sew new ones, and even save lives as quickly as an ambulance.

I’m not sure if countryside life is still the same nowadays as it was when I was a little kid vising my grandparents for a month during summer holidays? But to be honest, though I enjoyed it, I couldn’t wait to go back to my easy life in Cairo.

I remembered that becuase of today’s prompt.  I am not sure if a scorpion can be considered as a wild animal, but I am making it one in my post for today.

It was one of those long, hot summar nights, and I was having a sleepover at my Aunt’s country house. We had just come back from visiting one of her neighbours. We were laughing and joking, and couldn’t wait to hit the pillow. My aunt rested on a wooden bench in the big, high ceiling, and so dimly lit hall, pondering her next day chores.  I headed straight to the bedroom I used to share with her, but just before getting changed, her screams filled the house. I ran out, and saw her hands tightened around one of her calves, as she lifted her leg, trying to slow her blood circulation. ( of course I understood that later). ‘Scorpion,’ she shouted, and her sister ran outside to get some help from their neighbour, asking another to fetch the village doctor. That night, she survived, and I went to bed whispering one prayer: ‘Please God keep that dreadful insect away from me. Amen,’ I prayed and fell into a sound sleep. Next morning, life went back to normal, with my aunt doing her chores and me playing around.

By the way, did you know that scorpions don’t live in Antarctica, although they can adapt to almost every other place on Earth. Of course, they would freeze, be unable to use their venomous sting, be easily seen, and their lifespan would be cut down to a few days. Don’t you think this can also apply to wild, evil people?

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

Strange

Do you or your family make any special dishes for the holidays?


We often hear that men do not know how to cook, or even worse, their cooking is terrible, don’t we?

But isn’t it strange when you find out that they can, or can do very well.

Cooking is mostly one of everyday mandatory chores, but it can also be fun and a special hobby.

I still remember my father’s baked potatoes with meat. Although he mainly used basic spices, that dish was like nothing else- delicious. I remember he used to cook this dish, mainly, but not often, during the summar holidays. The aroma would waft through our house, making our mouth water. I remember how he looked so proud and happy of his achievement.

Strange how simple things, such as baked potatos with meat, can be carved in children’s memories. And, how strange that some parents deny their children such beautiful moments to relish later on when they grow up.

If it weren’t for the speciality of the chef, the love it was made with, and my family around it, I am sure that dish wouldn’t have crossed my mind for today’s prompt.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla