Running the cogwheels

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The Holy month has just passed by. I absorbed as much of goodness as I could. Schedules have restrung to their old order. I am back.

My day begins at dawn. With the arrival of my hubs from work. His breakfast and the days-going fill my belly. I go back to sleep, peaceful till mid morning when my two toddlers take turns for pee and poo and tv and brekkie. My day of awakefulness and normalcy actually begins at noon or an hour after.

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I take a rushed brunch and begin my meal preps that last for about two to three hours. Along with regular intervals of pees and poos. Then the internet gets on so I do my customary social media surfing until my late lunch. After that my kids have their meal. And then I get time to do anything till 6.

I either play subway surfers or learn typing on Alison.com or come blogging, like I did now. Then I take tutions for a 9th grade student right upto 8 o clock. I then do not understand how it suddenly turns 11 in the night and I jump back to my glorious bed.

It does appear that I don’t do much. But I get dead tired. The washing of clothes, the running after and feeding the toddlers, the meal preparations, the sweeping of my room, the clearing of the kitchen top. Everything. Its tiring. But all this are brain freezing chores.

There is a list of things I need to be doing beside these chores.

I have to learn French, learn MS Office, learn typing perfectly. I have to homeschool my moody daughter, and also teach her Arabic. I have to stitch a few clothes. I have to teach my son to hold a pencil and draw upon instructions.

Each of the above tasks have sub-lists. And just the humongous-ness  of these tasks make me collapse back…to my glorious comfy bed. Magical place indeed!!!!

Catching Up.

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Well, its been quite a while since I posted. As the usual tick tock of my time continues, I tried my hands at different creative things this while. I just couldn’t fit the time to post on my blog in my messed up schedule.

My baby is being potty trained. And my toddler is having tantrum issues.

So the next few bogs will be about some sleeve-rolled-up stuff I’ve been doing for some time.

Home…….

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What is a home? Where is a home?……

I was just scrolling through facebook, mindlessly. That is when I came across a very nostalgic video. It just broke the dam that was holding my emotional tears safely.

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey…..

I miss home. That’s what it is supposed to mean. The first thing that flashed in front of my eyes, was my parental homes of Saudi. To me those homes are the closest meaning to home. We lived in different apartments. We changed a total of 5 houses. Each have their own nostalgic memories. Out of them one had my whole childhood.

Kehta hai roz mann mujhey…

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey….

I miss that house the most. To me that was the most memorable home of my whole life. I went to school from that house. I learnt to read, write, use a computer, cycle, skate (yes I cycled and skated in KSA right through my teenage), rode buggies, jumped in the mud pools at school, made sand castles by the beach, flew kites at cornich, collected sea shells and hail stones, ran through the rain, enjoyed swinging away into the nights, counted the stars by lying on a mat….and so many more memories that I cannot even count.

Woh garmiyo ki raat…

Woh jaadey ki baat….

I miss those full blast a/c mornings. So comfy in the bed. Heck, me and bro sat playing Need For Speed on chairs wearing our blankets like huge coats.

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The winters? The cold washroom seats…the orange heater light that never flickered. I used to wear a grey sweater, then my dad’s blue jacket that had a brown fur lining inside. I sat infront of the white rotating heater.

I miss those car rides. Those long family drives along the coast with the windows scrolled down, the wind blowing in, ruffling the fabric of my niqaab. And the drives with just me and dad, simple peaceful trips to the clinic or to the exam halls or for those accounts classes.

Sabh sataata hai mujhey…

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey….

I gave it up. Me. I gave it up. In the name of Love. I gave up everything. Left behind everyone I loved and who I knew would love me back and be there always.

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Chaah kar bhi waqt wapis mod nahi saktey.

Chah kar bhi waha nahi jaa saktey.

Chah kar bhi woh yaadein phirsei nahi jeesaktey.

Chah kar bhi laut nahi saktey waha….

I miss my brown blanket with white dots and brown flowers, and DIANA written in white on one corner.

Jin dino mei raha…

barso tak….

ek hissa unmei mera bhi tha….

phir waha rehna hai mujhey…..

ghar yaad aata hai mujhey…..

Even though I want to, I can’t turn back time. Can’t go back to that age, to that place, to those people, to my people. Home.

But according to the place I come from, a girl’s home isn’t her parents home. Her home is where she is married of to. Really? Wrong people. Wrong. There is no home in this world at all. Atleast that’s what I think.

What is a home? A place where you come to find peace and belonging…apnaapan. Maybe I can never find this feeling ever. I left my parental house to find my home in LOVE. I found a house. With people in it. But I didn’t find home….No I didn’t. I didn’t find a home.

Home was not with my parents. It is not in my spouse. It is not even in my kids. Where is my home?

Maulaaaaa…….

Mujhko bata mera dar hai kaha maula…

Jogi bada mei…phirta rawa kinna…

I am so well aware, that peace, love or belonging is never found in a person or place. It is found in the self. Maybe some day I may look at this blog post and laugh. Or maybe would nod my head and continue to cry. Maybe, just maybe I want to find a place called home. Because I learnt home can’t be a person. No not at all. It has to be a place.

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Bhatkna padega..

Pata nahi kabh thak…

Tabh thak ghar dhoondna hai..

Aur jabh thak…

Ghar yaad aata hai mujhey……

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Pw9v5XnMsg  : Link to the video I came across on facebook)

Note: Non-italic lines are my own.

Anger.

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Lots of it. I am lately feeling a lot of anger. And it is not because of just one reason. A lot of things are piling up in the back of my head. It is taking just one small thing and everything us almost exploding. 

I have never been an angry person. I was always disappointed. Then it all became a teary eyed sad pillow sobbing. Nobody in my family ever saw me angry or crying or sad. I was that good at putting my emotions behind a façade…my older family that is. This new family of husband, his folks and our kids. Maybe I have undergone hormonal changes. But it is unnerving. The fact that I can’t control my feelings. Mostly my anger.

My kids are being normal kids. Buy sometimes they get on my nerves. It is very hard for anyone to get on my nerves. I am usually a chill person. But I don’t like this anger. It is getting to me. Words are piercing deeper than they should. When his folks casually show disdain at my lifestyle its like they are pressing all my buttons. They aren’t really. But these new emotions are making me mad. I fume at disorder. Maybe the most irritating thing to me is doing repititive cleaning tasks. There is only so much mess I can live with. I even feel a little OCD creeping in. Unkempt bathroom and bedroom is unwiring me slowly. I am hating this loss of chill that I feel.

Its really shaming when my daughter keeps telling me mom why are you angry? I tell her exasperatedly that no baby I am not angry, I am just concentrating on my work. I know I am responding to her with a bit of heat. I am coming out to her like an always angry mom busy doing things or resting and always asking her to keep quiet or keep things neat and proper.

Motherhood is getting to me. My kids were easier as babies. I didn’t have to tell anything to them, knowing they won’t understand. I just did the stuff. Plus crawling babies hardly make a mess. Right now, they are like two battery operated cars running at full speed with no stop button until sleep. I am unable to explain my exhaustion to anyone. And if anyone tells me I don’t work much at home, I just want to rip their head off their bodies straight away…..

Illness

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It comes. Shakes our priorities. And then goes away. That is what illness does.

Changing weather says the doctor. Both my kids fell at the same time. One with fever, cold and cough that just won’t seem to go, and my second one with severe cough. Did I feed them wrong? Did I make them eat something they shouldn’t? No, that is what my brain tells me. The doctor says they’ll be fine.

Fine. But it shakes me up. This illness thing. It makes me Thank God for all the healthy moments. Makes me thank God for the all the healthy parts of our body. But when my kids cry out of fever or cough, or they wipe their little noses on little hankies, my heart wonders why them, why not me. Maybe I am totally sentimental in this issue.

Let’s just pray they get well soon and run around and make chaos like they always do.