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.

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Clouded over

Sitting alone, in the corner of a busy café overlooking the street, she looked up at the obscure sky.  With each passing hour the temperature seemed to fall a degree lower, as the icy winds mercilessly whipped across each passer-by’s face causing them to huddle and dig their hands even deeper into their pockets, their faces red and blistered.Her breath had fogged up the glass and she moved her face away, slowly drawing patterns  on it with her finger.

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As she lay dreaming

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” -Leonardo Da Vinci

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” -Leonardo Da Vinci

As she sat with her seatbelt tightly wrapped around her tiny waist and her feet firmly touching the interior carpeted floor, the engines began to hum.  With each breath she took, the sound became louder and louder until soon it became a deeply disturbing noise like that of a cow regurgitating. The wheels began to spin and the plane slowly but surely edged forward. Further and further it crept, like a new-born bird learning to fly; slowly and carefully it gathered speed and charged like an angry bull in a ring and with one last heavy sigh, it extended its wings completely and lifted itself up and off the ground, into the mid-morning sky.

Up it went, graceful like an eagle-fully aware and confident within its abilities. The windows rattled with the increasing wind pressure and she closed her eyes as she felt her stomach churn. She concentrated on random thoughts trying to keep her mind off the familiar tickling sensation in the pit of her stomach, willing herself not to throw up. As the plane reached its suitable height, it slowed down and settled into a regular pace of flight. By this time, the roar of the engine had become a familiar rumble and adjusting herself within her seat she slowly opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

She undid her seat belt and leaned forward in her chair. Looking out of the window she saw the clouds surrounding the tip of the wing. Fluffy and soft, they appeared like layers upon layers of cotton wool.  What lay beneath her was a wide expanse of blue. The ocean in all its might shimmered as the sun beams reflected off the water’s surface creating a mirage of sparkling crystals. A brilliant blue with a layer of golden glitter, it appeared mesmerizing from so high up. As she watched between the parted layers of clouds, a never-ending span of waves crashed over each other destroying the ones before but recreating new ones within the same instant.

Out onto the horizon her eyes followed the stretch of sea and she smiled to herself. Caught within the beauty of this moment she felt light as a feather, drifting through time and space. Her worries far behind her, swept away long before take-off. Her eyes shimmered with the intensity of her thoughts and she felt like a bird, soaring through the sky completely alone. An epic moment beyond the grasp of her rationality, she felt so free, for this was only the beginning of her adventure and the dreams she was in pursuit of…

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Nadia Nawaz

New year,bigger dreams and brighter smiles!

Dear diary,

Before I begin to even write to you, beads of perspiration line my brow from the nervousness of this task. Focusing too much on myself has always made me so very self-conscious. Writing, and then and seeing it so plainly before me brings on a feeling of  utter nakedness. I feel exposed and open to the world and usually do anything to avoid it.Yet today I will plough ahead in my bravery. The year 2012 has just ended and brings with it promises of 365 days which have yet to be written. Filling the pages of my empty book is where I begin, for today I wish to vent…

This touched the very depth of my soul

This really got me thinking..  (Source: Instagram)

I sit here amidst the slush of slowly melting ice, the laughter of joyous children, their gleeful shouts and cries and their smiles; beautiful enough to melt a heart of stone. I sit here alone, silent and still as I watch the busy parents tend to their handful of children running around trying to keep their hats and gloves from falling.I watch young couples so in love, their eyes brimming from the promises of many more happy days to come and I watch the old and fading,their eyes holding stories of lifetimes long gone, moments spent so contentedly; a smile of fulfilment on their fragile faces as they too occupy one of the many park benches surrounding me.
I realise how much I love to listen to the sounds of human voices, their excited chatter intermingled and entwined, fading away into the distance..
As I sit here, I cannot help but wonder at my own troubled thoughts and emotions; raging and raw. A burdened soul, cowering under the load of its weight. Those memories which were carefree moments thought so little of once upon a time, have never failed to haunt me. The voices and faces which have been so frequently conjured up in my memory, have long since become one big tangled web of images, completely indistinguishable from one another.
It feels as though I have become trapped inside a bubble, frozen somewhere in between the past, the present and the future. An immobile being, going through the motions like the minute hand needle of a clock. The thought of what might be, has led to a state of constant fear. Fear of making the wrong choices, fear of having my trust broken and shattered to pieces yet again. Fear of becoming too dependent,fear of loss, fear of desertion, fear of having my life turned into an example of everything bad that could happen, fear of being traumatized, fear of being neglected, fear of missing out and fear of failure.
Putting it all into words so blatantly before myself has left me with a sense of relief  and euphoria. 71916925269155907_88tecxjz

Writing has helped me put my life into perspective and I’ve understood what a true blessing it is.
I have been led to a mounting realization of how unpredictable life actually is.Growing up, what we fail to realize is how lucky we are to have people who love us continuously by our side. Friends that support us and cherish us, forever there at every beck and call, so willing to listen.
2013 comes amidst the fear-for some-of the world ending.Raging wars in the middle east, natural disasters in the west, holes in the ozone in the north and calamities in the south. Inclusive of this is every bit of torture we choose to inflict upon our own kind with civil wars, drone attacks, target shootings, rape, murder, hatred and general evil acts. If the very world we live in cannot be in a state of peace, maybe its time we start focusing on our own little bit.
Maybe living in a perfect world is impossible. But waking up everyday, being so blessed and much much luckier than most is enough to put a smile on my face. I may have bad days, but at least I don’t have a bad life. And so acknowledging my fears is where I must begin.Maybe its time to face my own demons. Maybe its time to fix those broken friendships which began so slowly yet ended too soon. Maybe its time to be true to myself and not hold back.Maybe its time to grow up a little.Maybe its time to forgive…

And so dear diary, I end this note with a light heart, an encouraged spirit and a smile on my lips. For now, I feel the world is mine and I’m determined to face it. Ready for all it has to offer me. Till next time. With much love..

Forever yours, Nadia

I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe Dalai Lama (Location: UK)

I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe Dalai Lama
(Location:UK)

nadia nawaz

Confessions!! You ready?

Staring at this blank page spread out across my computer screen, for once in my life I’m at a loss of what to say. I feel as though I could sit here and vent.  Fill pages upon pages upon pages of every single thing that troubles me. Let the tide of emotions take over and let my fingers roll over the key board as I hammer away, letting out my mounting frustrations and then once when I’m done maybe let out a huge sigh of relief, hit the publish  button and let it be. How easy would that be? How daring; to strip myself bare of every thought, feeling and emotion within me for the world to see. To mock, ridicule and criticize.

But then I think of the consequences of what that might trigger. The horrors all the confessions might unleash. The memories it will bring forth.  But most of all, the impact it may have upon me and the repercussions of my words upon those reading them. Just picturing that causes the coward within me to come alive, igniting like a flame upon touching a candle wick.

The selfish side of me wants to not care any more, to complain and vent.  But then my more logical  side takes over, forcing me to over think, process and reprocess every thought and then keep deleting every sentence I write until I’m back where I began. That white expanse of emptiness filling my monitor screen.  Just willing me to do it, to not be so damn cowardly for once in my life. To maybe just let things be and roll with the wind and see where it takes me.

With each complaint I make, the guilt begins to mount until it begins to choke me. I begin to picture those beautiful little orphaned children being forced to live through a waging war in battered countries and my heart goes out to them. My ungratefulness causes me to bow my head in shame and I feel disgusted for letting myself drown in self-pity.

And so with the year coming to an end and two decades behind me I’ve decided that maybe it’s time for me to let go, to move forward and stop back tracking through  my life as though it were a video tape stuck on replay. Maybe this is the chance I’ve been given, to start a new. Maybe it’s time to stop reminiscing over things which can never be the same and look forward with a newer, stronger love for life. Maybe it’s time to start living. So what are you waiting for? Smile that precious smile, take my hand, and away we go…

nadia nawaz

Time erases!

Each day brings with it an avalanche of memories, a sea of comforting faces and recollections which bring forth a torrent of emotions resulting in both tears and smiles. But time is gradually erasing all the easy conversation and jokes which we once shared. Details are becoming harder to remember, slowly fading and becoming a part of the haze which clouds my memory.

I constantly find myself pouring through old photographs, listening to silly voice recordings and repeatedly watching video’s in a struggle to outbid time. But time seems to be moving faster and faster, catching up with me and erasing my precious memories, wrapped up and treasured in my head so well up until now.

They say absence makes the heart fonder. I now realise how right they were. But prolonged absence and time, pose a threat far greater than our comprehension. And that is a frightening thought. Maybe I don’t want to forget. But time doesn’t seem to give me the option. With each passing day, the fog slowly begins to thicken. There’s nowhere to run.

None of us can escape the inevitable wrath of age and time. Each tick of the clock is slowly bringing us nearer to our end. None of us can out-run it. In a bid to make the most of our lives we spend so much time working, trying to make money, fulfilling our responsibilities, but somewhere along the way we’re forgetting how to live.

One of these days we will wake up to find ourselves old and helpless, trapped in a useless wrecked old body. Abandoned, insecure and scared. Our life will be near its end. That bundle of emotions and memories is all we will have left. Those hazy moments, slowly obliterated and thought so little of back then, will soon mean the world to us as we shrivel away trying to preserve what little we have left.

But by then the journey will be at its last stage, remembering and regretting won’t do no good then, for our life will be over. The battle will be fought, and won.

Time will out bid us all and we will come to realise our insignificance, but by then it will be too late for the end will be near; completely inescapable!