The Take Out

I sit out on a bench looking at the street looking at the various buildings that exisit to serve some purpose

I sit here outside this cafe waiting for my pizza and cheese fries on the go. To pass some time, I listen to my playlist “My Indie Vibes” . Each song somehow suiting the mood I am in 

The sun is at its best now, I guess. 

It shines not very brightly but bright enough to give off a warm glaze off it when looking at it. The time to be a beautiful evening sun. The evening sun you see in movies, everyone coming back from work and watching the city bustle. 

Then I hear a shout of my name to which I get a heart attack. It was my dad coming from work tired and happy listening to country songs. He gets very excited about these songs 

Before him interrupting my thoughts, I guess I wanted to write something. Yes, I remember what it is.

I had quite the day today. Shopped out of my budget. I do not like shopping for clothes for myself. This does not mean I do not, I just find it tiring and well if I like something, I try it on and will buy if I have the money. That’s what I did. I was very testy and pissed having spend off my money.

Then my mom told me why save up and save up if you are not going to spend on something that makes you happy. This advice calmed me down and I saw the happy side to it. I got some cool shirts to wear. 

After all, this saved up money was not going to be of any use in hell, perhaps as a bribe to get into heaven. 

Then while going back home, I saw this old man on a wheelchair selling packets of tissues. It hurt me physically causing me to whimper. I can’t stand watching people in despair and beg. 

So I went up-to him and bought two packets of tissues, a dollar for each packet. He handed me three to which I declined first but he insisted with a happy smile to which I smiled back and then took. 

I can’t forget that smile and never will. I guess that smile came from happiness that finally someone noticed him and gave him money for the first time or he was joyous that he was closer to affording a meal. 

I got to thinking what different people do to survive. It aches me. I told my mom that whenever my mom and dad come here, when they see that man, they should always give him some money. I can’t wait to grow up, get a job and do my bit for them, for people who need the help. It makes you think and know you got it quite good. 

Later as my mom and I were walking home, we saw a small cute child carrying a trolley bag holding his father’s hand who was leading him along. The boy looked unwilling and looked as if he wanted to go out and play rather than do whatever they were going to do. 

This got my mom reminiscing about my past, my school life, particularly my year 10. The most stressful and worst year of my life in school. 

There was this insane pressure to achieve and I knew I couldn’t. I just didn’t understand Maths and Science. It was not for me and I tried so hard and I achieved the grade I wanted and I was happy. I got the grade I deserved. 

My mom told me she was so afraid of me not passing Maths and I told her it was hard. I had to memorize formulas and sums to get that grade. 

I despised every bit of my 10th grade, the tuitions, the pressure and the stress to get that grade because society and outside family would judge me if I don’t get it. It was awful succumbing to these pressures. 

Then some or the other conversation happened with her to spark this one I am going to write about.

I told her about how some teachers were not good to me. They undermined me, thought I wouldn’t make it and she was so shocked and upset because I did not tell her this back then. I knew she would wreck their worlds if I told her, so I kept quiet back then and just went with it. 

I told her that when in year 12, when I became a prefect and one time when I was passing her, she said “oh you got it?” in a very sarcastic tone. 

I was hurt but I forgot about it. Clearly I haven’t done a good memory forgetting it if I still remember it now. 

This is why year 11 and 12 were the best years of my high school. I was doing subjects that I loved. I got a chance to prove myself and start anew. I found myself and found great friends in a great class. I thrived. I got so many opportunities that I would never get back then. 

Back to the present moment, The takeout. Some time passed and I got the meal, my dad paid and we were walking back home. My dad listening to his music in the evening sun and I beside him dwelling in this sad spiral. 

I wanted to have some sort of talk and comfort with him but he was dwelling in his music and I didn’t want to ruin that. In that moment I knew this is how my parents felt when I am engrossed in laptop and phone all day. That feeling hurt and I am sorry that you have to go through with it mom and dad. 

This sad spiral I was in was due to earlier incidents.

This is exactly why I choose not to talk about the past because many of it brings me pain. My technique works just fine, forget about those bad times, suppress it down/forget it and move on. Talking about it now just made me more upset. If I talked to someone back then, it would probably be better and not hurt so much like as of now but at the end it’s always going to hurt the same. 

This is exactly why I choose not to talk about many things from my past or from my present  because they always tend to leave me in this sad wallowing misery. 

Now I have to smile and pretend to be in this happy state in front of my mom and dad because I don’t want them to be sad and up in my space. I wouldn’t have been sad if not for talking about the past. 

This is exactly why I like my technique. It doesn’t hurt anyone, probably me but I have been dealing with that tiny hurt for a long time, so long now it’s just normal. I am okay after a while. 

Now I feel much better writing it down and presenting it out in the open. 

What an irony? I say I don’t want to talk about it yet I write about it and show it to the world. Huh. 

To not care or to care, That is the question.

You were a produce amongst many of the others 

I chose you out of the many

I nurtured you and I fed you 

I fed you with everything you wanted, needed and secretly demanded

Without a moment of hesitation I submitted it all to you

You are a taste one acquires at first but then fails to spit it out letting the venom make its habitat in you

You are a taste that is full of disdain and delusion

You are a poisonous thorn tricked to hide among the flowers and then you strike

You were like the rest but I guess I was never fully over your kind which is why I keep growing you

You spread like a plague in my veins and it furiates me 

I fed and fed, your hunger remains an itch 

I hear and hear, and now my ears are bleeding

I have hurt and hurt, and your hunger loves it 

I know how to get rid of you and when I do decide to unleash the cure, those will be the days you will fear and break

My cure carries so much of hatred and truth that it will forever petrify you and the impact would carry on for the remainder of its time

Your wounds might heal but my cure will always leach on to you

I let you grow into the skies, I let you reach the clouds not soley by my help but you took in the others as well, they helped you without knowing what they are in for

I stay on the ground with my knife sharpened ready to stem you off when the times arrive 

Why I do this, I will never know 

I let these thoughts get into my head and they make me dance 

You are scared of me, now I know but I want to destroy and make you bleed

My toungue itches to make you cry and bleed for what you do but I remain silent with these burning aches and not letting the fumes take over entirely 

I let you feel the scorching sun a bit by bit

I will let you get used to these rays, needful and cancerous 

I will never unleash my full power on you because I know I will forever break you and I do not want to be haunted for the remainder of my life as I still desire to be a bit of a good human on the inside.

You want to be seen, you want to be the force that breaks and makes it all

You want a life you can never have 

You can have it but you are too deluded by your posion to see through your act

You blame me

You strike me in the back with my own weapons

You feed me your hurtful words through your dying self 

And yet you seem to be the one in the right 

You seem to still be the flower amongst the many 

And now I have no choice but to cut off you from the fields 

You have leeched onto my depleting self and have taken my sanity and peace

You have ripped me of my happiness and put these questionable sins in my head 

Are you worth the sins?

The sins that I should be proud of

The sins that will determine my place in hell

One Last Look

Friday 26th October 2018

It was time to leave again. It was a short visit for four days to home to resolve an issue.

Taking a break from uni and going back for that short time was just diffcilut because I was used to my routine and breaking it and leaving felt hard because I knew when I would return back to my routine, I would have a hard time adjusting to it again.

Life surely had it’s ways of working.

After those 4 short days, I was going back to university, a life that I was starting to love and enjoy. But right now, I couldn’t savour it because I was leaving my home, my past, my childhood, my memories, my nostalgia, my essence for good.

I was leaving this part of Dubai, Bur Dubai, My home for 18 years and moving into a new unkown tritory somewhere in Dubai, but not that I can call it home.

As I was getting ready to leave the flat, a few minutes before, I went around my small home and gazed and loooked at every nook and corner in every room. I remembered the 17 years of my life, the life that I spent in this building and neighbourhood.

Bitter sweet ones they were.

I smiled, but it was a sad one.

With my bags ready to go back, I stepped out and as soon as the doors shut, that was it. It was the end of an era.

I looked back, wished and dreamed that it was all a bad nightmare. A nightmare that I could wake up from but it just kept going on. It did not stop to comfort me, instead it just moved ahead.

As we got into the car, my mom held my hand. I looked at my building, the streets, the night lights, the shops, the roads and I kept looking back and I did not want to say goodbye. Not yet, probably not ever.

She couldn’t help but hold my hand tight and say that we will be back here for drives and visiting, but we both knew it would never be the same. I looked around the streets again, I  was trying so hard to fit all of it into my brain at one go.

In that moment, I felt that living there my whole life wasn’t enough to capture everything. I needed more of it. I did not want to leave something so comforting and familar, it had it’s flaws and horrible times but it was home.

The home that was there for me throughout my life. It felt too hard to let go.

It felt as if I was slowly letting it all go, forcefully. Someone was taking it away and there was nothing I could do but simply watch as I let it slip through my hands.

 

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It was hard to follow and understand what Robin said, but when I think about it.

It’s true. Sometimes things had to change and I should be greatful that I wasn’t leaving Dubai. I was moving into a new place with new beginnings. That is something to look forward to. More memories.

It was just that small part of my heart I had to say goodbye too. It hurts and breaks every single time, but in time it would be healed and fixed. It would still hurt to think about it but maybe, a bit less than before.

I thank you and love you so much home, for what you have done and taught me. I will always love and remember you.

 

You will always be a part of my eternity.

 

Going back to Airports have always been the worst part of going to Uni. I would like to put this in simple words as possible, IT SIMPLY JUST SUCKS. There is no easy way ever to make this process a less painful one.

I can never get used to it. I would like to say that someday I would hope to change that, but as i keep growing up and with time moving on so fast, it seems to get tougher every time. 

Whilst on the way, I looked at the streets, the lights shined bright but not the type of bright that would make you happy and heart content. It was the type of light that made you remember all the special moments in your life. It was the type of light that remindes you why you fell in love with it the first place. It was the type of light that would make you not want to go back. It captures you and makes you want to see it every single day, for the rest of your life. It traps you in a trance. It’s magic that you never want to let go of.

As I was nearing the destination, I gave the old memory box a quick look and winded it. I replayed each one of those memories. It was nice but felt sad, every single time.

I would not go into the details of the airport check in process because I dislike it immensely but I would give you an insight on how it all went down when I had to say goodbye.

Every time I took a step to leave for the check in, I would go back to return for that one last hug. I did not cry but as soon as I gave that final goodbye, I walked and then came the tears. I did not let them see me cry because I woudln’t want them to cry too. I wanted them to see me happy and content. That’s the least I could give them for being the good parents they are, and I left to return back to my life here, at Nottingham.

 

So that was it

Those four days marked the end of an era

And on the last day, I had my one last look