It’s just a passing, fleeting feeling of the day, right? This realization that I can no longer be homesick at the point at which family drama is clouding my missing the people dear to my heart. Family that is. The fear of this measly tuition bill staying in the red unecessarily long because all things are forgotten when the dirty dirt of divorce resurfaces in a bubbling simmer of a forgotten house still trying to be a home again.
No, not that. This news just came tonight. As I am cooking. After leading a cooking class at work. And the children refused to listen to me.
How helpless am I? What is the point of giving direction if no one wants to take orders.
What is the point of talking to you when you will never know just how bad it gets. Gets on these days. Where you want to talk it out, not for pity, but just to know that there is still someone left who’s listening. And not because they have to, in order to spit out their grim events in return. But listening because they are genuinely concerned with
“And no bearer of burdens shall bear another’s burden; and if one heavily laden calls another to (bear) his load, nothing of it will be laden even though he be near of kin, you can warn only those who fear their Lord unseen and perform prayers. And who purifies himself then he purifies for the benefit of his ownself. And to God is the final return.” (Quran 35:18)
And then, everything begins to annoy me again. Like the slow walkers. And the people unsure of where to exit on the Tubes. And the men who don’t offer seats. And the women like me who feel they deserve a seat simply because their hormonal makeup was slightly different just in time for their births…Us females.
I exit the subway. Or tried rather. Because as several of us squeezed through the crack of an opening door on the subway, one lady refused to step out for a second so we could exit more quickly.
“Could you step out, please….Thank you.”
I was surprised at how authoratively confident I said that to the woman. But I was more surprised that I had said it out loud.
Maybe, after dealing with unruly girls and their attitudes for two hours today had me forgetting that I was not that woman’s elder. And that I should be patient. Even if I would miss my stop and have to go to the other platform and go backwards and then hope that this time, some ignoramous would not be blocking my path.
Wow, I am angry.
And I don’t want your pity. When I am down and out. For this too shall pass. And when I am doing well, I don’t want your praises. All praise belongs to That which makes this all possible.
But it saddens me that I can no longer stay comfortable in my homesickness. I must find something else to linger in. Some other word to call this emotion. And some new object to place it on. Because, if I continue to think of home I will start to wonder if they are eating as good a meal as I am right now. If they have enough friends. If they miss me too.
I’m off to work on being a better person, insha’Allah. I am not happy with myself right now. Not happy with the fact that I am allowing myself not to be happy. And no one is responsible for that!
The days are getting shorter and longer at the same time.
And when everything else seems to be so confusing, enveloping me in a big cloud of doubt, I navigate through the discontent with my music.
“Sometimes I get discouraged, I look around and things are so weak. People are so weak. Sometimes, sometimes I feel like crying.”