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NOBODY TEACHES YOU

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Nobody teaches you

how to love

a narcissistic son

How to wrap your arms

around the grand ego

engulfing his tiny body

Willing to snatch the pride

off the tip of his tongue,

to swallow it on his behalf.

And in the rushing cold that fills his soul,

show him how to

empathize

with the agony

of the world

To bow

low enough

so he can see through

the lenses of humility.

Nobody teaches you

how to strip off

the clothes of vanity

that he adorns himself with,

burning away

any remnants

of decency in himself

for the world to applaud

Flaunting

like a sun

with whole worlds revolving

around him.

Nobody teaches you

how to embrace him

when his hugs bear

the softness of cactus thorns

tearing your heart apart.

A bitter lump

rising in your throat

when his venom words are spat out

to humiliate

and intimidate

and demean.

Nobody teaches you

how to mould a son

that stands tall

to compete with the might of mountains

Stamping his feet

on every living creature

like a dirty rug

Worthless.

Invaluable.

Defective.

Nobody teaches you

how to love a son

who believes

in the godliness of his self.

***

This poem reached the semi-finals (top 8% among the over 3,500 poems submitted) in the 2020 Jack Grapes Poetry Prize alhamdulilah!! Immense gratitude to my poetry teacher and inspiration, Finch (Ahmed Shayo) for constantly pushing me to improve my art. Been staring at my name y’all, still can’t believe it 😀 Anyway, here’s the link to the semi-finalists so you can enjoy the moment with me 🙂 : https://www.culturalweekly.com/2020-jack-grapes-poetry-prize-the-semifinalists/ (Winners have already been announced by the way 🙂 ) Thank you for your constant support!

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Creative Fiction

YOU MET YOUR MATCH. AGAIN.

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The year is twenny twenny (2020) and twirra (twitter) is on fire. The trending hashtags are #worldwarIII #Soleimani #AustraliaonFire #Iran #Iraq #USA. The memes are hilariously alarming. We are still talking about Trump’s impeachment. The concentration camps and Islamophobic, ethnic cleansing of Muslims in China and India. The attacks in Somalia. The trending Netflix series is YOU and Messiah. It is just the fourth day of the new decade, and you already know it. WE.ARE.MESSED.UP.

Now for you, you couldn’t be less bothered. You stand in front of the mirror in your polka-dot pink pajama. It is barely 7 a.m. But who cares? You need to post a video of your self-affirmations on Instagram.

You straighten up your long black hair and push it away from your face.

“I am strong. I am kind. I am honest. I am happy. I am fierce. I am beautiful. I am confident. I am outstanding…” Suddenly you remember, You forgot to take your morning photo! The morning photo you were to take to out-do Nora, your old workmate who now works across the globe from you. Nonetheless, who cares where she lives now? How dare she get more likes and comments than you? You can never allow that to happen. You, you are the epitome of beauty and every one should recognize that.

You pause your video. You move towards the balcony, make sure that the sunrise is dramatically appearing in your photo. Oh wait. Your favourite cup of coffee must appear too. You quickly peep in your mirror to ensure that no perks of dirt are still on your eyes. Liiighhht make-up. Okay perfect. Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap again. Perfect. Perfect image. Perfect sunrise. Perfect hair. Perfect skin. You post it on your Instagram with the hashtag ‘I woke up like this.’

You finish your self-affirmations video. Post it with the hashtag #selflove as you keenly wait for the likes notification to start ringing. Do you really need those affirmations though? I mean, aint you the very perfect? Charming? Powerful? Most successful? But maybe you do need them after all. Perhaps your deep inner child recognizes your starvation of love.

You scroll through your Instagram, rolling your eyes at everyone’s new year resolutions. They are mediocre people aren’t they? Mediocre people = mediocre goals. But you, YOU are special. You hang around with the bigwigs. You make people laugh. Your confidence makes these tiny little brains come running to you; wagging their tails. You are powerful. You are something else.

You come across Lydia’s end of year post. She has lost 10 kilograms in a span of two months. She is grateful. She looks graceful. You roll your eyes again. “Whom are you lying to Lydia? Isn’t this the third time in five years that you have lost 10 kgs? So what now? You think you will make it this year just because it is friggin 2020?” You type like a maniac. You’re just about to post it. Then you remember. You have an identity to keep up. It took you years to build this persona that everyone loves and ‘worships’. You quickly delete and write instead, “Aww. I am so proud of you honey. I personally know how far you have come. 2020 is definitely going to be a better year for you. Count on me to always support you. xoxo.”

You scroll on. There is Aisha. She became a neurosurgeon this year. Her million dollar smile irks you. She is perfect. More perfect than you. Stable career. Stable marriage. She even has a child already! Urgh! It infuriates you that Aisha does not take notice of YOU. How can she ignore you while you went to the same university, same batch?! Well apart from the fact that you mostly made her heart a meal for your ego, why would she ignore YOU? You are thee queen. The goddess. Aisha is lost. She doesn’t know what she is doing and you know it, she will definitely regret it someday. She will realize your worth and come back begging for your ‘golden’ (mostly one-sided) friendship.

Tim on the other hand is posting a post at 2 a.m. Is he for real? What’s worse he is talking about his journey from being homeless to moving to a bedsitter. His 2020 goal? To have his own one bedroom house? Ati Big dreams, baby steps. “SMH. I DON’T RELATE”

Your timeline is filled with ladies and gentlemen flexing their summer and new year outfits. You roll your eyes again. Way, WAY below your standards. What are they showing off about anyway? Cheap clothes bought on December sale?

You are petty and you know it. So you quickly type onto your Instagram story ‘Some of you are poor and it shows.’ Followed by hysterical posts of ‘Some of you don’t know jokes. I was joking.’ Were you though? Do you really believe you were?

Anyways, who cares? Lydia, Aisha, Nora, Tim…all so mediocre. You take a killer photo, all dressed up. Your face is lit. You ARE lit. It is your time to shine. You write your story. Your very powerful, moving story of success and pure talent. How you overcame mountains. How NO ONE could ever understand what you went through. It is captivating. Almost a tear-jerker. Almost, because there is someone who actually sees you through the facade you keep.

Your post is soon filled with emotional, supportive comments from your 10k followers. Then you see it. That one, unexpected comment. That comment you’d rather never see. “Hi there. It’s been a long time coming. I am glad to know you’re doing well.” There is a smiling emoji after the statement. That suspiscious, enigmatic half-smile emoji that you never really know what to make of it.

You shudder. You read the name again. It is him. Him, who once meant everything to you then in a blink, took it all away. It all comes back to you. That intense, otherwise crazy relationship, that broke you down to shatters. The arrogance. The vanity. The superiority complex. You two, you were/are so much alike, you did not even understand the magnitude of the toxicity. Call it soul mates. Call it finding-your-match. Only, he defeated you. And that is something you will never get past. The defeat.

His simple comment crushes you. Because you know it. He knows it.

Someone actually recognizes you for who you truly are.

Hey there narcissist. You met your match. Again.

***

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Creative Non-Fiction

CONCEAL; DON’T FEEL!

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Photo Courtesy: Unknown

“Conceal
Don’t feel.
Don’t let them know.”
~Frozen

When a boy notices his tendency to cry a lot or even be more emotional than expected then this is when Anna’s words become a consolation. You feel you are not alone in this; not alone in the hiding and burying. Not alone in the turning away from the inner you, the real you that wants to scream, that wants to cry, that wants to break down, that needs a hug or at least a pat on the shoulder. So you shut the doors and put a pillow on your face so that no one hears you silent cries. You lock yourself in loo and cry until you have no more tear for anyone to see or simply go mute on everyone. No one should know. You have to hide or else everyone will raise their eyebrows at you, “dude are you normal?”
“Are you straight?”?

The girls are usually the victims of this but for the few boys who are characterized as ‘sensitive’ then they definitely have a hard time.

As boys grow up they keep hearing it over and over again, ‘real men don’t cry’, ‘man up’ ‘be strong’ ‘be like a soldier or a lion…’ ‘Are you a girl to be a cry baby?’ But anyway who brought up this notion? This foolish theory that when a man cries he isn’t ‘real’ anymore? What does ‘real’ mean anyway? Does it mean that the boys who cry a lot or show their emotions have any less of the y chromosomes or perhaps they should freak out and see a psychologist whether they may be turning gay?? ?

I say it is foolish because I believe in a person who feels. It means they have extra ordinary power to connect with others. It means they love others honestly. It means they are strong enough to respect their inner self that is wounded. It means they are simply not allowing their ego to overtake their soul. It means that despite all the tears and feels, they are strong enough to admit that they are in pain and that pain needs to be let out. It means that although everyone expects them to be fierce and hard so as to be recognized as ‘strong’, they decided to have their own definition of ‘strong’. It means they are humane and feel for others. It means they are special.

Yes, they are definitely special. These cry babies are the ones who will make the best of husbands and fathers. As much as some women may argue that emotional men can’t protect them and would probably cry with them during tough situations instead of acting immediately, do remember that the Y chromosome in him still exists. He will protect you more than the man with an ego would ever do. He will protect you because he is true to you; because he won’t ever want you to get hurt especially because of him.
And hey man, if a woman ever mocks you over your emotional make-up then she is simply not worth it. If it is family or even friends then just over-look the criticisms. Sometimes you just need to ignore what people think about you.

These men you call cry babies are ones who will restore humanity whenever, simply because they feel extra ordinarily and with deep empathy for others. They are the ones who keep touching hearts and inspiring people. So if you one of them, please feel free to cry and break down and feel extensively. If the inner self is wounded and needs to bleed then please bleed if you need to. Don’t let your ego destroy your beautiful soul. Your tears are your power so use that power to make a difference. Do know that the best of mankind (men) were seen in tears and were known for their empathy and deep emotions. So never feel ashamed over who you are. Your soul is simply amazing and that; that should really make you proud 🙂

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Creative Fiction

DEAR PAIN

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Photo Courtesy: www.ayeina.com

Dear Pain,

From the moment I was born and as I grew up, I found myself already betrothed to you. It’s strange isn’t it? How does someone get betrothed at such an age? I mean, what if I turned out to be a vampire just when I turned thirteen? Weird. But it’s more of the culture issue I guess. As far as my memories go by into the past, I remember how you were so obsessed with me. You always fancied that both our names start with ‘P’ and you would always chorus it lovingly ‘Pain and Paranoia’. You were so loving yet so bitter. You were carrying all the world’s misery on your shoulders yet you still afforded to spend time with me. You would walk hand in hand with me and you would introduce me to all your friends. I still remember your best friends; Ego, Selfish and Evil. I remember how you would praise me in front of them as if I were the only girl in this world. You wanted the whole world to know how much you loved me and that you would never depart me. I remember all those days you would take me out with your so called best friends and we would have ‘fun’. That’s what you used to tell me; ‘let’s go have fun’ yet all I remember was hearing the four of you mock people and laugh so loudly. It used to puzzle me a lot. Well, you were quite older than me so I thought maybe I didn’t really understand what this ‘fun’ really meant. For the foolish girl I was, I’d stand next to you; your hand still firmly holding mine, just staring at you and your friends.

I still remember Ego; he was TALL. Really tall that I really had to strain my neck to see his face. But he was still elegant. He was quite handsome and I used to wonder why I wasn’t betrothed to him instead. He always had his hands in his pockets and talk with a firm voice. He walked with a bounce and his head was always held high. Is that what they call confidence? I used to admire him but that was then, I was barely fifteen. At that age you barely know how to differentiate between a cheetah and a tiger. I was so naive…but now…now I know everything in this life.

Selfish was hilariously short and it really used to make me laugh at how the four of you could be best friends. I mean, your physiques were so opposite. It is the first thing anyone would notice upon seeing you together. Anyway back to selfish. Selfish was so over confident. I have never seen anyone think so high of themselves. He always wanted to get the biggest share of everything for he thought he deserves it.To me, he looked a bully. I used to see him snatch food from the beggar’s mouth. Have you ever seen anyone so cruel like that? But selfish thought he deserves it. Sometimes I used to see him look at me maliciously and it used to freak me out. He probably also thought that he should have me instead of you. Well, you never noticed all that because you were always busy praising to the world about me without looking at their reactions. Maybe you trusted them so much??

Evil…evil was ugly. Damn ugly and ironically, he used to boast about himself like there is no one on this earth like him. Everything about him was ugly; his croaky laughter and even his dark enigmatic smile. He was rough and tough. He was all the three of you combined; he was torment, torture, unpleasant and wicked all together. He always considered himself the ring leader of your group.

I still remember the night your friends raped me. Oh…how can I forget the misery that came after. How can I forget the sadness and despair? You know what pain, you always used to make me wonder which side are you really? When your best friends raped me, you were mad. So mad that it worried me you would explode. Yet you decided to cover it up for them by marrying me. You thought that would make me forget. You thought you could make me happy once again.

Years went by and I gave birth to our first child; insomnia. Oh my son…he wouldn’t let me sleep. He made me turn and roll on the bed restlessly. I cried and cried until the wee hours of the night. I cried until I had no more tears. I cried until my pillow was too wet. I cried for you; because of you, for the past, present and future. I cried that you were the only person who loved me so dearly in this life. The only person who wouldn’t leave me alone. I treated myself with lots of chocolates and bowls of ice cream. As people say, treating oneself like that is good for the stressed soul…yet this technique didn’t work for me. My boy troubled me…but where were you Pain? You were just there with me; like a shadow. Always there yet never giving me the happiness I needed.

Insomnia grew and soon we had our second child. It was a girl this time. I was so happy. I wanted to make her my best friend, teach her how to cook and how to dress up. I had so many plans for her and for us. I called her ‘eating issues’. She was so fragile and weak. She had no appetite even to live. Her eyes looked tired and she was weightless like cotton. Eating issues worried me a lot. I worried that she was going to die soon yet she still lives; still as fragile. Still as weak.

Having too troublesome kids is not easy especially when you have an obsessive husband like you Pain. Anyway, God has now blessed me with another bump. A third one is coming. I think it’s a ‘she’. Don’t ask me how I know this. I am a mother, I can feel it. I have been thinking of aborting her for quite a while now but i’m a mother after all, I don’t think I can be that cruel. I think I will name her ‘pending issues’ for she will be born whilst her mother is still worrying about how much the past will affect her future. I hope ‘pending issues’ won’t trouble me. I hope she can be my hope.

Insomnia and Eating issues have grown to be teenagers now yet each one of them is still worrying their mother in a different way. Insomnia wouldn’t let me rest and stop crying. Eating issues wouldn’t let me have a peace of mind or a healthy life. ‘Pending issues’ is soon coming by…

My dear husband; Pain, I have never really enjoyed the idea of having a man so obsessed with me. I’ve had enough of you. I want to be free once again. I want to breath fresh air once again. I want to fly and be happy. I just don’t want to live with you anymore…

I am sorry Pain…I really need a divorce from you. Please grant me that as soon as possible. I already kept the divorce papers under my pillow. My very wet pillow. I hope the papers are still safe. Please do sign them soon. If you truly love me then do it for my sake. Please. Allow me to be the free woman I’ve always wanted to be. Don’t worry about our children. I promise to take good care of them. I was also planning to change their names soon. I was thinking of calling our son, Brave instead of Insomnia. As for our daughter Eating issue, let’s call her ‘Love’ and when our last baby finally comes by, I will call her ‘Hope’. I am sure you like the names right? I know you can trust me to take care of them and raise them with good manners and health. Please do take care of yourself as well and I hope we can meet years from now where your name would then be something like ‘Delight’ or probably ‘Euphoria?’. No, ‘Jubilant’ is even better! My name then would be ‘Joy’ and you will be able to chorus our new names once again, ‘Jubilant and Joy’. I promise we will be happy then.

Before I end this heart-breaking letter, I want to really thank you for being there with me throughout; for the lessons learnt and for the undying love.

Your so-long-loving wife,
Your soon-divorcee,

Paranoia.

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Creative Non-Fiction

HEROISM VS NARCISSISM

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Photo Courtesy: Mc’Lopez

In a world where everyone believes they are a star, a legend and a hero, be rational enough to yourself. Accept yourself as you are; without exaggerating your own existence. Yes, you ARE special. Always remember that…but never forget that you are not any more special than anyone else. Don’t raise your nose and walk with arrogance, believing you are thee best; like no one is better than you.

Taking a hundred selfies, getting 200 or 1000 likes, having the most followers on snapchat and instagram does not define your self worth. Neither do these photos portray self love.

You only become a legend by creating a difference, by leaving footsteps in other people’s lives; by being yourself. Do not be a slave of society love and fame because if that’s what matters to you, do know your time of fame is quickly running out and someone else will soon be ‘thee new star’. For all that I’ve ever known, no star ever labeled themselves that name. They were recognized for their impact and their achievements and not by their show off. So don’t get ahead of yourself. If you believe you are a genius, then do know you are not the first one to exist nor will you be the last. The same thing with anything else that you are good at; be it sports, talent, academics…you name it!

Many people confuse egocentrism and narcissism as self love. And as much as the current world encourages people to love themselves, the whole idea of it shouldn’t get to your head. There lived so many legends who were not appreciated until their death while there lived people with immoral ideas yet they have been made our idols.

Times are quickly changing and most of us have been enchanted by what we see on social media; people sharing their naked photos, egoistic posts and underrating of everyone else in the name of self love. And sadly enough, we are made to believe that it is very okay to be narcissistic and to consider everyone below us. So whilst the villain also considers himself a hero in his own mind, be brave enough to balance your self esteem and self love without letting your ego take over your thoughts.

My idea of heroism has always been the same as what Ellen Goodman said: “I have never been especially impressed by the heroics of people convinced they are about to change the world. I am more awed by those who struggle to make one small difference.”

Always remember that what you do; the smallest bits of kindness and humbleness that you give to the world is what makes you rather extra-ordinary. So even when the whole world thinks you are a nobody, do know that for someone out there, you are their biggest hope and their light at the end of the tunnel.

I’ll end this by this remarkable quote that very clearly draws the picture and summarizes this whole article in a few words:
“True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” – Arthur Ashe

Keep leaving footsteps wherever you go!

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Creative Non-Fiction

TWO INCHES OF AN EGO

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Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

Standing tall
A bold soul
he makes the fake call
and talks the random talk.
Head held high
his nose pointing to the sky
his face sparks with sarcasm
and his laughter;
another word for enthusiasm.
He walks with a bounce
his hands in his pockets
and his hair combed in spikes
He waits for no man
speaks with great command
and he only, can make the demand.
Is he egocentric
or perhaps a bit too eccentric??
He smiles with a smirk
and his tone is always a remark.
He is just an intense mystery
making a profound history.
An obscure being
or perhaps,,
just perhaps…
all he’s got is
Two inches of an ego.

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