What's going on?

Anyone who has known grief, would probably agree that grief comes in uncontrollable waves. And grief waxes and wanes like the ever changing phases of the moon. One minute you might be completely okay and the other you might be overwhelmed with an immense, crippling sadness.

I know first hand what grief feels like. It's a deep dark hole that you fall into and see no way out of. At least not in that particular moment in time when grief decides to hold you in its tight embrace.

One time, not so long ago, grief descended on me on a particularly hard day when everything else around me was also going south. This was when i found out i was losing my job; when the kids would not stop fighting; when someone i thought i loved treated me like an unimportant afterthought he could dismiss and ignore; when it felt like my whole world was crumbling down.

I remember just lying down in bed. Feeling utterly defeated.

Then the tears came. It felt like a dam had broken. Big large sobs of anguish; of pain; of grief; of sadness; of frustration falling like a steady waterfall down my face.

I sobbed.
And sobbed...
and sobbed....

And then....

I felt little fingers wiping my cheeks.

"Ibu, are you okay?". My little thoughtful girl, worried about me.

That just made me cry even harder.

So she started singing.

"Hey, what's going on,
tell me what's wrong,
I know there's something we can do!
It might not be clear,
That's why I'm here,
Tell me what's bothering you!
Got something on you mind?
Don;t you keep it inside..
You're gonna be fine!
Hey, tell me what's wrong,
What's going on?"

Suddenly, it felt like our roles had changed. I was the mother, I was the one who was supposed to comfort my baby girl. Yet on that day, her little singing was comforting me.

And somehow, it worked like magic. My grief was lifted, and the world didn't feel like a cruel unfair place anymore. How could it be? I had my baby girl. My thoughtful, beautiful, baby girl.

And i knew.

As long as i had her, everything would be okay.

Flirty

I was hit on today.

Which is, to be quite frank, both flattering and confusing at the same time.

The lad in question, is probably in his early 20s, and was actually really cute. He had some nice set of teeth and his smile could melt an iceberg.

How it all played out was actually kinda funny. I somehow found myself in a position of damsel in distress when I forgot to pay my parking ticket and only remembered when I got to the exit boomgate. Several cars were already lining up behind me in this tight-squeezed alley so i was effectively trapped. I could neither go forward, nor reverse my car.

In my panicked mode, i started hitting the emergency call button multiple times almost at the verge of tears asking for someone to help me (more like BEGGING actually).

Then...

... he showed up.

Leisurely strolling, with no sense or urgency whatsoever, towards my car. The line of vehicles behind me began honking loudly, understandably annoyed.

He flashed his pearly whites and told me that there was no other way except for someone to run back to the ticket booth and pay our ticket. Since i was driving, My sister obviously had the arduous task of running all the way up to 2nd floor to do that.

So while i waited, with the line of cars honking away behind me, Mr Pearly White started to chat me up.

It started innocently enough.

"Where do u live?" He asked.
"Oh i dont live around here". And in old lame izyan fashion, i tried to justify why I forgot to pay my parking ticket, "this is my first time using this parking lot so i didnt know i had to pay the ticket first. Im so sorry, so silly of me... Yada yada."

I have a tendency to go into verbal diarrhoea when I'm stressed.

He smiled. "Don't sweat it. It happens."

Then out of the blue...
"So tell me, what's your name?"

That was a weird question. How would my name make me leave this parking lot any faster?

"Er izyan."

"Nice to meet you Izyan. I'm xxxxxx. What do you do Izyan?"

Another weird question.

I laughed nervously. "I'm a doctor, see." I pointed to my stethoscope on my dashboard.

"Ah. So if i get sick, can I come and see you?".

Woah!!! That's when it hit me. This kid is trying to flirt with me.

I could almost hear my own heartbeat in my ears, and I'm pretty sure my face was flushed beetroot red. I mean, him being good looking really didnt help. The honking behind us had died down. But i was praying hard that it will get loud again. I've been out of the flirt-with-random-stranger game for a while now. So this was unfamiliar territory for me.

We kinda indulged in small chit chat for a little bit more, with me giggling nervously like a schoolgirl, and him showing an overconfidence that was pretty impressive.

Until, after what felt like forever, my sister finally appeared, with the paid ticket in her hand. I quickly said goodbye and drove out of that parking as fast as was i was legally able to. I didnt him give a chance to say anything more.

phew~

I suppose even at this age (and weight), i can still catch someone's eye hahahaha.

Shattered glass

A dark cloud hung over the whole workplace today. A young cardiothoracic surgeon beloved by everyone was tragically involved in an accident 200m from the hospital we worked in. The news trickled in bit by bit.

...... "He's in the emergency department."

Must have been a small accident, we all thought.

....."He's in the red zone."

Oh, Was it that serious?

..... "He's been intubated and he went into cardiac arrest."

We all work in medicine. We all knew it did not sound great. But nobody wanted to say it. We held our breath for a little longer, and we prayed. That everything will be okay.

And as we continued to try and run the hospital as usual, we finally heard the news that everyone was dreading.

....."He did not make it."
.
.
.
_____________________________

It felt so surreal. I had just been texting him a couple of days ago. And now he was gone.

He had just been teasing me about working in Africa (when he knew full well i had been employed in Europe). And now he was gone.

I remember telling him how I'd been out of clinical work for almost 3 years, and that i was only starting to get used it again. He looked at me and said "You've been out that long and you're still this good? Amazing".
I don't know how truly good i am but those kind words at that time was a boost to my fledgling confidence.

So yes, I grief.
And my heart breaks.

For he was truly a good man.
A dedicated surgeon.
A doting father.
A loving husband.

May Allah accept all his good deeds and grant him the highest ranks in Jannah. And may his family and loved ones have infinite strength and patience to get through this tough times.

انا لله وانا اليه راجعون

"Indeed to Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return. "

what was...

What is it do i miss most about Ireland?

Is it the cold crisp winters?

Is it the constant pitter patter of rain hitting againts my window?

Is it the people, and their lephrechaun accents?

.
.
.

No.

.
.
.

What i miss most is the special time i spend with my person there.

When it was just the 2 of us against the world.

When happiness came in simple things

Easily forgettable things

Mundane every day things
.
.
.

Doing laundry

Looking for parking.

Grocery shopping.

Road trips.

Simple every day things.
.
.
.

who knew

we would end up where we are today.

.
.
.

who knew

that i would end up longing for those simple days

when snuggling in our pajamas watching netflix

was enough to fill my heart with aeons of unbriddled happiness.

.
.
.

who knew.

Cornflakes

Have you ever encountered a flaky friend? Someone who promises you the moon and back, but never keeps their promises? The one who makes elaborate plans of getaways with you, only to cancel last minute? (or worse, never even bothers to cancel and just leaves you waiting and waiting... )

Sometimes you feel like ditching your flaky friend. But you hold back, because at the end of the day, you still like hanging out with this 'friend'. If the stakes are stacked just right that is. And with a flaky friend, that almost never happens.

You could go weeks and months without hearing anything from them at all. And all your calls may go unanswered. All your texts un-replied.

"Maybe this friend fell asleep narcolepsy-style?"
"Maybe they've been unconscious for long stretches of time and can't call you back?"
 You start making excuses to justify their behaviour.

Because even after they treated you that way, you still like them a little to be patient. And although you feel frustrated with their behaviour, you recognise that the real reason behind their flakiness probably has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them.

'It's okay,' you tell yourself.
'I will wait for him.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Opps. Did i just say 'him'?

I meant them.

That one flaky friend.
Who you secretly hope would stop being flaky.

So you would have a reason to still keep them in your life.
.
.
.

Ghost

Our lives our so intertwined, so meshed together so intricately, that it is extremely hard to simply let go. In the house i live him, i see him. On the bed i sleep in, i see him. In each of my daughters, i see him. Places we use to frequent, the mosque we used to go to, the mango shake stall we used to get our iced mango fix. Everywhere; everything, reminds me of him.

So it hasn't been easy. 

Some people tell me time will heal. 

But it has been years, so why is he still haunting me? 

Cruella D'Evil

Maybe it's because i have always been surrounded by beautiful, honest, kind people my whole life that I cannot imagine anyone being evil. I always think people are inherently nice, and if they weren't, it is only because they sometimes stray into the darkness due to unavoidable circumstances for which they always manage to crawl out of, God permit.

Well, i think that no longer.

Some people are actually downright evil, with hearts so black, no light can pass through. They scheme, and they lie, and they slander as if it is second nature to them, without the slightest bit of shame or remorse. Their dark, black, devious hearts feeding their big inflated ego into a spiral of profound immorality and wickedness, breaking relationships and igniting hatred along the way.

I choose however, to stand on higher moral ground. To disregard the existence of this evil and not let their repulsive tentacles touch the light force I've built around my loved ones and I. I will take an attitude of deliberation, of forbearance, in this time of Fitnah. To exercise Sab'r, in these times of tribulation. And i pray, and i pray and i pray. For He is the best of protectors.

''O Allah, continue to guide us and keep us protected. Ameen.''

Goodbye love

I cannot lie. I feel naked without the familiar weight of those rings on my finger. The ones i toyed with for years when i was anxious or nervous; its smooth edges giving me a reassuring feeling that there would always be that one person who chose me for me. Who would support me and stand by my side through the rough and the storm.

I was wrong.

For the rings held no special power. The strong bond I imagine we had between us, was as brittle as rotting wood, crumbling into dust so fine by presssure so little.

After that instance, i had trouble letting go. The last remnant of what was, firmly sitting on my digit. Its magic gone, the weight became harder and harder to carry as the days passed.

Until finally. I had no choice but to admit that it was time to say goodbye. Those rings; those broken bonds i was desperately clinging to, were holding me back from my true happiness. So i swallowed my grief whole and i took those rings off.

Goodbye love.

Goodbye.

Cottonblitz

Maybe it was a phase. Writing, I mean. I used to itch with the need to write. That itch, unfortunately (or is it fortunately?), is no longer.

I suppose I will continue to write from time to time. Mostly just to keep the literary part of me alive.

Love me or hate me.

In any case, for the time being.. Enjoy my current pastime - cotton!

IG: cottonblitz.

The little things

My husband isn't a particularly romantic person. He doesn't write me poetries, or buys me flowers on a whim. He doesn't surprise me with breakfast in bed, or plan fancy getaways.

But it's those little things he does for me that reaffirms his love. Like when he buys me a pack of blue m&ms that he knows I love, or when he gently puts a blanket on me at night when it gets cold. When he carries the heavy laundry basket to the washing machine when it's laundry day. When he brings me water when I'm parched from nursing the baby. Or when he kisses me sweetly in the morning before he goes to work, letting me sleep in even when he was tired himself.

Little things.

Easily forgettable things.

But it's those little things that matter.

In the business of day to day grinds and complaints we tend to forget what makes a person loveable. So step back and start finding love again in the little things.