Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Have I ever told you how much I love the story of the prophet Moses, dear reader? I have? 17 times?
Well it's true.
It's the beginning of every story you know. It's the story of all stories. It's The Original. It deals with abandonment, and lies, and cover-ups, and betrayal, and fear, and courage, and murder, and oppression, and repentance, and hope, and faith, and loss, and tyranny, and the power of God, and despondency, and salvation. Moses (pbuh) is mentioned more than any other prophet of God in the Quran - that's how fantastic it is. It remains my ultimate favourite prophetic account by far.
I think I'm finally getting the hang of this life business. There has been a breakthrough. This may even mark a new era of adulting for me.
See, for years and years and years, I always thought that being a straight-up honest human being was going to get me places. I was wrong dear reader - so very very wrong. Tsk Tsk. Shame on me. But I have finally seen the light. I have finally seen the error of my treacherous ways. Never again shall I ever be that naive and selfish, and imprudent and injudicious.
Yes, I have finally seen the light. To thrive in this world, you have to dance to the tune that is playing and pretend to love it. You have to see the light with two sets of eyes. You have to play the game. No one wants to be around someone who's good and honest, people don't want goodness, and they don't want to hear the truth. No one wants to be around a reality check. No one wants people with morals and ethics. No?
I've finally come to the conclusion that most of the time - MOST of the time - what they DO want around them, are people they can control. What do you think?
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
I met a girl once. She was slightly taller than I am with fair, almost translucent, skin. I specifically remember her Stygian-esque eyes, as dark as night, piercing out in sheer contrast to the rest of her. I briefly wondered exactly how much makeup she had on her face but soon realised it was just her - no makeup. Her hands gave it away; powdered and delicate, I could see her veins almost right through to her arteries.
The thing that stood out with this young girl was not so much the way she looked, but her air of defiance. She told me that she had no interest in getting married and that her parents supported her decision. She said that she was busy training to run a sector of her family's importing/exporting business and that her uncles and father were showing her the ropes. I expressed my surprise since you don't come to the desert expecting to hear about these kinds of things. But I wished her well knowing that I had encountered an inner strength and determination that would ensure that she succeeded in whatever she set her mind to.
It was only months later, after departing from a meeting that brought a 12 hour workday to a close, that it occurred to me how damned ironic life is. I mean, there she was, finding her freedom in contravening these societal conventions, trying to forge a career for herself - dreaming of working at all hours of every day... and here I was, confined in my cage of employment, a prisoner of my own societal conventions and norms, longing for the languid sedentary domestic bliss of nothingness that paid for itself - something she could have if she just snapped her fingers.
The joke is on us. "Freedom" is just an opinion.
Saturday, September 19, 2015
There's something bittersweet about returning to the Kingdom after every holiday. One would think that I'd be accustomed to it by now, but alas.
No, it's different every single time.
In many ways, it's like dying over and over again... new beginnings, saying hello, getting accustomed to people / places / things / strategies / processes and procedures, going through the ups and downs... great times, hectic times... hours and days just a haze of activity... preparing for the mass exodus once more, saying goodbye and moving on or alternatively staying put but having everything around you move on, things coming to that inevitable end. Waiting for the new.
Nothing lasts for very long here.
It's the cycle of life. Just amplified.
And sometimes, it's exhilarating, and other times it's fucking depressing.
There are times, I don't know if I'd be able to do it any other way.
And then there are other times when it's clear that you're nothing but a pawn on this chess board called life and you have no control over what goes anyway.
It's become very clear that I can't go back to living an "ordinary life". Life as I knew it has ceased to exist. I can't even stomach the thought. It makes me feel rebellious... rebelling against what/how they told us things should be. But now, where to from here?
I just died again.
Entertaining these thoughts is both invigorating and slightly devastating.
How to just go with it, with no expectation? Without feeling like there's something being lost every time? Without wanting anything more?
Somebody tell me.
I want to know.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Six months on...
I'm craving simplicity. It's like there's this skin I want to shed and out of that, I want to re-emerge fresh and revitalised.
The last 6 months have been just insane... long hours, hard work, new faces, new places, new things, new experiences... learning things about myself, and discovering who I really am vs. who I want to be and what I want... so much crammed into a very short space of time.
And the last time around, in the midst of it, I just forgot about the outside world for weeks at a time. I think it's called Living. And I've learned to embraced it all... the people, the places, everything.
This time around, I want to be a bit more conscious of it all. And perhaps I should start chronicling all my weird and wonderful experiences... instead of only talking about chronicling it someday.
I think I will learn my most important lessons this year.
This work by Azra is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 South Africa License.