And life surely does go on!

A sudden sense of dread and fear washed over me as I realized that I had done it once again. Not soon after however, it was replaced by a numbness so intense that I became unfocused, aloof and unaware of the happenings of my surroundings, driving my entire focus towards an attempt to find the item I had misplaced.

Being as absent-minded as a person can get, I always have this conscious feeling at the back of my mind; wondering when the next incident of me losing something I cherish will occur. Kind of like an obsession, I mentally tick off everything that’s important to me at the end of each day thankful for everything that I have been given.However what’s strange is no matter how careful I am, I always end up losing items I love and people I care for in the most absurd ways possible.

Everything in its own way leaves its mark, creating a sentimental place in us which very few choose to acknowledge or even admit. Loss is something we are all accustomed to in one way or another. This does not singularly have to do with the death of a person but can be related to the loss of any material item, loosing touch with a friend, a petty conflict which can cause an irreparable rift between two people, loss of a pet or even witnessing a disturbing incident. Moving through life in such rapidity, many of us fail to grasp the impact of loss when it does come. Each of us deals with it in their own unique way, indifferent to others.

While some choose to shut it out completely, others tend to revisit the memories allowing themselves to feel the same pain over and over. Though there is no set way to deal with such things allowing yourself time to comes to terms with it and focusing on the more positive aspects of life always helps. Focusing more on people worse off that you, and admiring their resilience can help us to deal with our own disappointments  much more easily.

nadia nawaz

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When wars rage on

Photo taken in Nimroz province, southern Afghanistan, 2010 by Marko Djurica.

Photo taken in Nimroz province, southern Afghanistan, 2010 by Marko Djurica.

His beautifully crafted face, a mask of unreadable expressions remained as neutral as ever, carefully concealing the tide of whirling emotions washing over him. He felt his blood rush up and course through his veins colouring his face a deep red. Once again his stomach churned as his insides flipped over and he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. His senses had all but eluded him, making him unaware of all the commotion of the big city which on other occasions never failed to energize him. His brain was alive as a flurry of thoughts washed over him once more; bringing before his eyes a sequence of pictures he had never failed to forget.

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When words run dry

His words washed over her, wrapping themselves around her like a cloak while at the same time cutting a gaping hole through her very core. She gathered her arms around her and breathed in. The power of his words was relentless and she could do nothing but yield to them, captivated and mesmerised by their force. Continue reading