sparkiness, samoosa crackle and family love

I am sitting in complete darkness. The lights went out at 6:20pm; I heard my mom gasp, as the samoosa's shrieked in horror from their pot of sparkling oil. Something had disrupted their little dance routine, for sure! In the mean time, speaking of routines, Madeeha sat on my lap in front of this laptop and wanted to just 'pwess buttons, masi'. Simple request. She is mesmerized by the wonders of the internet, and she's only almost two. Anyway, so the downing of lights was enough to take our attention away from magic kissing hearts, dancing bears and talking birds online.

Scattered around the house, I could hear the shuffle of feet looking for candles. My sister, Madeeha's mom, Dilshaad, sought out baby. Baby is most comfortable. Of course. Back in my room, we had discovered scented rose candles and set those alight. And baby wanted to help me. Lovely. Guided by the light of my mobile phone, we walked across to the living area. Oil still crackled on defiantly, anouncing its heated state long after the electricity cut. Samoosa's bore the brunt of this affair: browning on one side and remaining an uncooked white on the other side. What a waste. Unless you're okay with artistic re-renderings of the fried hors d'oevre.

Still, we totter about in wonder of what might be going on. Bills paid. Mains in order. Now what? Darkness is also a moment to reflect on things unreflecting.
My sister in law remembers that she misplaced her own mobile phone. Using the last of my battery power I dial hers in a rescue mission effort. Found it! The games on it will help with the mundane sitting around and waiting to see what transpires. This here laptop will last a few hours until the battery gives up from sheer exhaustion, and the 3-G modem is helpful as ever now that the adsl is down. It's amazing that we survive beyond the glory of electricity. It is a wonder, indeed.

Mums made some calls. Dad and brother have not yet arrived from work, and when they do, they will descend on a home set aside from the city by its stark darkness. But inside it, candles dance to a different tune, and hearts wait warmed by the thought that all will sit around together in this contemplation of life without sparky electric current, yet filled with the charge of love :)

gifted

posts can be writ in so many flavours at different times of the day and night. i find that i write my most rambling posts at these oddish hours of the morning, when all i can hear is the baby from next door whimpering and then bawling its eyes...

my brother asked me something this evening at the supper table: he said, shafs how do u manage to stay awake at night? i didn't think too long for the reply: i am awake at night. in the same way that people are awake during the day. i need to re-form my sleep cycle, especially for the winter months. its freezing. anyway this writing manuscript and editing thing has got me turned around to a whole nocturnal living and i rarely make breakfast the first meal of the day. so the family has been complaining a bit. time to lose my night watch status and re-learn the art of normal sleep time. time to enjoy the gift of night-time sleep.

regarding gifts and being gifted, life lessons need be seen as gifts. that's what dear friend S just said to me. so in that case i consider myself lucky on many counts. im going to reach into my vault of 'gifts' every now and again just in case i forget to be grateful :)

this is an arb post. another one that is. i wonder if it is that im not quite taking this writing thing seriously. or that im relegating the SoApBoX to its original state of being the reflective Dear Diary space that it began as.

so many memories at this hall of famous words and nonsensical ramblings. so much mud flung alongside spray cans of wonder. so much more reasons documented in appreciation for myriad things. i feel a poem coming on. lol. or not.

currently listening to a madeenah nasheed. (little bro just gifted me with a new nasheed mp3-cd of some 300 items) i want to go there. to madeenah. where soul cravings speak a different language. and are thus quenched.

im content tonight. even though im rambling... im content.

Allah Knows...

like wildfire or flowing rivers.. who knows?

Kay is overwhelmed. She undid the sluice gates and now she's let the dam wall overflow. And it's been so much fun that the posts have gained momentum like a river and seem to be really making the rounds between the blogs. It all started at Kays place, a post called 'Ten things I'd like my unborn child(ren) to know'.

And a simple tag of a few names led to more of that. It's amazing what a list of things you might say to offspring can bring out the best and the worst in a person :P
Okay mostly the best.
As this little flow of words most certainly did.

Check out the stream:
In no particular order...

Antonio: The Spawn Shall Know These 10 Things

Aasia: ...Spawn of my Loins

Nooj: Lists

Waseem: No Beyonce Listeners Tolerated

Seher/AD: Baby You Hear Me?

Azra: On that Bandwagon.

MJ: Concerning Kids

Saaleha: some sage and thyme for the sprogs

KiLLa: Naseehat (Advice) to my Gunner..

Nafisa: Tag, ur it!

Sofi: The 10 Thing Tag

Freelance Hero: What shall I tell my kids

Nielfa: Listen to me and Listen well..

Organharvester: The ten lessons I would teach to my kids..

Veritas: 20 things I want my kids to know

Edge of Where: simple 10

Mangoes & Mint: Things my sprog should know...

Randomness Infinite: 10 things I want to tell my unborn kids.

Zesty: For Abdullah

Dreamlife.wordpress.com posted his at the comment section of my own (previous) post in the same thread: 10 or so things I may impart..

Hasina_S did her own review of the works and added to the fun with Womb with a View in her own eclectic and awesome style :)

If I have ommitted anyone or there are still more to come, please leave a comment at this post. I think most had fun doing this, Even those that Grrr'd at the tag ;)

Thanks Kay! This was fun. Energies were shared across the veld in a veritable Fire. And like i said, its amazing what comes of a simple ten :)

Much Love,
S

i got a tan. well done!

i got a tan. on a roadtrip.

im tired.

tired of these

and those.

but super-exhilarated

super duper so

because the view,

the sun, surf and sand

the company of loved ones

and the faces met

were all

so...

exhilarating

:)

Memory Lane

I was sitting up in bed a few hours ago, thinking back to my year or at least the past eighteen months or so. I'm not sure why, maybe it's because reflection allows us to make sense of happenings, or maybe its because I have the opportunity to sit still for the first time in, well, a long time. And partially it's because, in writing this new book manuscript, which is happening along in painstakingly slow motion, I am constantly called upon to reach back into memory and experience for ways of reacting to situations and feeling things,etc. I sit here at my laptop thinking, "So, what would that feel like?" and "What would Mariam say to her sister at this point?" and how is it that Selma's life mirror's Zahida's, but that their ways of reacting and being are so radically opposed even. How, What, Where, Who, Why. The Ubiquitous WhY.

So, I decided to go back a year, down the archives of this SoApBoX.
And this is what I found..

A verbose article on The Notions of Original Sin called Adams Eve and Wundabra

Which, brought me back to earth of course. Lol. Because, I used to write such overly thought out, very richly netted, long-winded diatribes. Oh and I still do, just that I am aware of the perils to readability :P

Pacing, urgency, readability, compulsive readerships. These are new buzz items on my checklist of writing. I am thoroughly enjoying the journey of awareness that this new project of writing is allowing me. Reading others' writings often evokes emotion in me, or a memory, or something. That's what words mean to me. Being able to engage the reader, take them by the hand, allow them to sit with a relatively good view into your words. To bite and chew, to swallow or spit out in disgust. To feel, see, smell, hear. To know. To alter. I think I'm rambling now.

It's interesting to be able to read back a year or two or three and log progression, regression, change, and growth. Change is good. It points to a shift in consciousness. It implies growth. Even if it happens in tiny bits at a time. It's all good.

warning