Faraway lands, a secret paradise

Street kid in Kabul-Afghanistan © David Belluz

“Somehow, even in the worst of times, the tiniest fragments of good survive. It was the grip in which one held those fragments that counted.” ― Melina Marchetta
(Street kid in Kabul-Afghanistan) © David Belluz

Sitting in the corner of the market, on a dirty abandoned street once so full of life she closed her eyes. She had been walking for many days now, passing by ruins and dilapidated houses always in shambles, mostly unoccupied. Her journey had been long and arduous  with no destination in sight. All she saw were reminders of the atrocities committed by other men. Men who claimed to come bearing the name of peace. The reminders were painful, bringing with them memories she had long before tried to forget. They clung to her like a disease, growing in weight as the days slowly dragged on.

Continue reading

The end of a beginning..

A flood of memories hit him causing him to inhale deeply. He closed his eyes as a storm of feeling threatened to overwhelm him, drowning him within their depths. Flashbacks of moments once thought of as fickle, fought through the chaos and resurfaced old feelings. Feelings and emotions he had long before buried and sealed shut, vowing never to intentionally dwell on again. It was a hard battle, one he fought everyday while constantly living in the present yet dreaming in the past.

He often wondered what it was about that year and her in particular, that had caused such a huge impact on him. He was unable to shake off the constant feeling of being haunted. Haunted by a past so beautifully perfect yet so embellished by his imagination.

How time had played him and life had tested him, ultimately moulding him into the man he had now become. He was no longer bitter. His past was something he had learnt to live with treasuring those who had been part of it all.

Somewhere through the rush of thoughts and the ache and longing of people he could no longer bear to be parted from, he lost himself in a void; empty of all emotion. He had been robbed of his chance of true happiness. He allowed himself to float through, finding contentment in the bliss of nothingness, even if but for a moment.

path2

Nadia Nawaz