Mustafa

How insane is this passage of time?
About a year ago, my sister and I were running around getting 'last minute things' done; visiting a friend who we'd intended to visit as she had been widowed after a car crash, packed my bags as I was leaving for Cape Town before the end of week, and done other basic errands; we'd even managed to get a lunch outing in along with some shopping. Later that night, she went into labour and in the early hours of the next morning, 25 May 2010, my nephew, Mustafa Ebrahim/Gaba was born.

I'd had a dream about him just that evening. I dreamt that I was in a meeting and that I was introducing a tall suited man beside me as my nephew :)

And today, just past his first birthday (amid a week long celebration between grandparents and the rest of us), I'm sitting here wondering, where did this year go to?

All I can be certain of is the greatness of life, love and precious moments. And full appreciation for the gifts that come our way.

Huda - Rightly Guided

I'm not sure that we truly take into account the wonders of birthing until a child is cradled in our arms. Tiny perfection exists in quite that way: in the form of a newborn. Huda, my newest niece, was born after much contemplation at 16h51 pm on Thursday, 24 Feb. A daughter for Sarfaraaz and Amina, and a baby cousin sister for Madeeha and Mustafa, the reason I say 'after much contemplation' is because Amina carried to full term (40 weeks) and experienced a long 16 hour labour with immense effort from brave mum and extremely courageous baby girl. Also, it did seem as though baby was contemplating her entry into the world.
And so she finally made her arrival amid two sets of thrilled grandparents, and of course parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and extended family members all in all.

She's beautiful What else can I say? Or need I even?
God is Great.

And another fabulous February person has arrived! :D

xoxo

birthday reflections: a piece of sheesh mahal (palace of mirrors)

2

2
is a number
that's
made up of
1 plus 1

2 is whole
and large
and double
the fun

2
is the number
of years
of packaged joy
sweet water
pink marshmallows
and girly giggles.

2
is a tiny voice
filled with
will and power
in it's recitation.

'I am TwO'
she says with grand glee.

And so she is.
She's two
today.
Double of what
she was yesterday.
Double
in so many
ways.
Hugs,
Kisses,
Love
and Life!

Happy birthday tWo Madeeha.

The one who just turned Two :)

And Here's to sweetness multiplied!
And to chocolate cake, of course!

...the beauty of this world

a fresh breeze tints my skin,

my baby eyes open

to the length of her cupboard door,

fingers reach for an ancient lock, dangling there

i pry them open, this place of old and new, new and old.

-the scent of musk invades the room-

silks and wools line the hanging spaces,

more textures in the drawers,

my hands float;

senses still arrested by the warmth of oils and musk and rose

and her. my beginning. my first pair of eyes.

my taste of real and The Real.

my reason for awakening. my view to beauty in this world.

---

many happy returns to the most beautiful woman in the universe

may you have days of scented rose

and nights of comfort, only. to my dear grandmother.

here's wishing you a grand 81, with Allah's fragrant blessings...

happy birthday!

its the day i was born

i don't think that i have ever written a post on my birthday. usually there's a stream of pre-birthday reflection and a kind of after the day report. but today, i am so overwhelmed by the celebration of me that i feel like writing right now. i don't know what exactly i wish to write. yes. words fail me. but details matter and so i will begin my little exploration of this birth anniversary. i just had dinner with my parents tonight. it was a wonderful moment frozen in time in which to discuss and share the reason for their aging: their eldest daughter just got one year older, of course! i am eternally grateful for moments like these. i want to feel and embrace the joy that rushes through me; most of all... i want to make conscious choices to choose the joy when fear threatens to rule me.

i know. these are starting to sound like a bunch of resolutions. but they're really purposeful stratagems for days well lived... just a wee bit ahead of time ;)

i don't want to write about the day i was born, as such. i think i'll save that for my grandkids to hear about. you know, sitting around a fire someplace, not reading off grandma's dusty old blog. some things should be kept that way: old and tangible. i think i'm getting that way too. or tending towards it. not old, just tangible :P

beyond that i am thrilled to be surrounded by all this love and light. my day is full, and i am content.

24 carrots

heres wishing a full 24 to you,
little one!

24 bronze because of those little booties
u wore when i carried u limply on my child hip

24 silver for those mornings when u used a footstool to make us
cups of tea,

and for those endearing clip-on school ties...

24 gold for being my strength and my weakness,

my partner in crime...
my greatest cheerleader,
my fiercest critic...

24 carrots to you,
for being you :P

to my little brother...
many happy returns
on your 24th!

*arb celebratory poems in appreciation*

shafs

on tourism and birthdays

I have decided that it makes sense to continue considering myself a tourist in sunshine Durban, at least until I have been here a month. Its only been a fortnight. And I have discovered avenues and roads leading to various previously enchartered territories by the likes of me the tourist. Roads that lead to Virginia airport also lead to my cousins Fatima's highschool. Then roads lead to Woolworths Foods and some lead off to little houses turned into quaint galleries. Then more roads lead to more places yet to be discovered. My range of movement is limited at the moment. I use the freeway in the mornings, and have made sure to suss out speed camera zones. For the first few days, I prided myself in getting through 'traffic' quickly as survival in the jungle usually demands. I mean the space for articulation is quite inviting for someone who has had to brave Johannesburg congestion for some time! My car purrs gratitude; need I say more? Then today, while slurping kilometres like cherry slush, I looked toward the ocean on my left and s-l-o-w-e-d down. Oiiiii. How I wished at that moment to be stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic!!! *sigh*

I like Argyle Road. And the other day, I had to meet with some people in Davenport Road. Little creative coffee shops and galleries lazing beside each other reminded me of Mellville, my favourite hide-out in Jozi. Time to start painting again methinks! But then theres Ridge Road. I am still a little apprehensive about negotiating that one! In the first few days of my journeying along its slopes and curves, some areas through which it crawls happened to be experiencing loadshedding. (For international readers, loadshedding is a touristy South African word for a karma-like transfer of energy into nothingness! - pretty cool hmm?) And so, crossing the intersection at Ridge and Overport Drive was as chaotic as anything I have ever experienced before. I mean, take Sandton for example... loadshedding in South Africa's financial hub is a spectacle of its own, for sure; but the fourway-crossing ettiquette has some amount of ordered chaos. I know that I raved and ranted some few weeks ago about the traffic being like sheep ambling along unherded. But. Perspective is a thing unappreciated! Durban. Well... Its difficult to say what that was all about because it seemed quite traumatic for people to consider what it was they were meant to be doing. At the risk of sighing again: Moving on to all things festive!

Yesterday was the first time in forever that I got to celebrate my birthday at the beach! Invigorating and symbolic of so many things, especially the creative spontaneous spirit that fills my being, it turned out to be a celebration of note! A celebration of me. Thanks to all the love and positive energies constantly surrounding me. Kind of like the ultimate feeling of home, away from home!

So. Happy Birthday to Shafs the Tourist in Transit!
Magic has been restored..

she's so tiny!

Shes so tiny but i held her.. and felt the tiny wisdoms seeping into my arms.. the same arms that thought they were wiser by age and time and imbalanced experience..

I kept holding her and she squirmed ever so slightly.. arms stretched out and eyes fluttered wide open.. searching mine she spoke to me.. asked me what I wanted to know - when I expected weakness from a sweet little bundle there exuded a profound strength! .. in this 2kg human being, expressing her new entry to the world as a tiny precursor to greatness!

my eyes clouded over, she closed her eyes - not quite dismissively and smiled, knowingly. "its ok, aunty shafs", she seemed to say.. let me rest a little while and then we can start taking on the world together! she teased me with that thought and allowed that smiling demeanor to carry her into dreamland.
Left with a resounding thought.. musical and manifest, I marvelled at lifes beauties, tiny and soul enriching..

I couldnt put her down, mesmerized as I was.. so I held her some more.. the smile hadnt quite faded, content she was, of her own accord.. showing her deep understanding of the secret of life that we in adulthood have long forgotten.. her baggage of delight making her the mini-master of the journey ahead; our choice to forget the great secrets making us meager beggars lacking salience, lost in the labyrinth of a laboured life and reduced to scavengery in a sordid sea..

I looked down at her once again and realised.. that she had all the answers to life.. she represented the answer to life.. Life, this Child of Universe.. this marvel of Gods Creation.. this reason for everything to be set right in the world!

*in tribute to my newborn niece, Madeeha, daughter of Dilshaad and Mohammed Gaba Ebrahim; born 21 July 07

http://www.netcare.co.za/live/content.php?Item_ID=121&BabyID=98655

The Cycle of Birthing

Lifes manyfold cycles are pretty incredible. When one stops to think of the myriad miracles that dot our path – and I am not just speaking of the bright shiny blinding moments of tear-filled joys – I mean the everyday mundanesses that carry us from the beginning to the end. How many times does one get to be born. Conception, the time span in the womb, birth.. growth.. feeling and finding ones way through the maze of life.. all forms a pattern of rebirthing, growing.. and extending ones reach into the greater expanse of life the journey. But then the big question arises: how much time in the womb? And who decides. This nagging question has just been planted in my seeded mind from the birth of my baby sisters own little baby. The new arrival to our family, a pink bundle of sweetness, was born just a day ago on the 21 July 2007 weighing in at a tiny 2.1kg and at just 35 weeks. She arrived without fuss, within the hour of her stunned parent’s arrival at the hospital at 5:45am. Even the OBG seemed pretty flabbergasted. Stories of her speedy delivery reverberate through the hallways all day, and I presume will continue for a great many years ahead, setting the trend for her socialization. Her scientific ETA nicely sidelined by destiny. Her entry into the world thus announced! It seems she had had enough of the comfort zone and it was truly time to get out and make some noise! So then this brings me back to my question: as far as living in the comfort zone goes.. when exactly is it time to make it out into the real world? Or the next phase as it may be. This is my newest challenge. A rebirth required, most fervently. And a more than gingered step into the great unknown!