an african woman sell her colourful goods on the floor of the market.
traditional, african clothing.
so out of place in this cold, grey british sky.
sitting restlessly. tired eyes proud.
softly chanting to herself.
she saw her kinswomen.
tried to speak to them in her hearty voice.
none looked back friendly.
to each his or her own.
in this foreign land,
foreigners need to move on,
the colourful garment only serve
to bring back the smell of the African soil,
whether its colourful like the exotic leaves that flutter,
or bleak like the dunes of black sands,
it is path left behind.
a heavy ache in the heart.
by noon, the african woman stood
looking down on her bundle of unsold goods,
a sad smile adorn her leathery face,
eyes a longing distance,
singing a song from land far away.
singing an african lullaby.
i met a man so polite, his voice was like an angel. soft, kind and pleasing.
he is not a beggar, but a man worthy of your money, and empathy.
i was greatly humbled in front of my Lord at the sight of him.
an albino skin. pinkish white.
a big, prominent nose, it almost seem unnatural.
upturned eyelids, bloodshot red amidst his skin white.
with lips quivering with each sound of great gratitude.
the most kindest of eyes.
dear Lord, whatever happened to this man?
it looked like radioactive burn had melted his rubber mask and scraped the skin off his face.
was he born that way, was he tortured so?
to be the money for some sick animalled men,
who chided with human’s sympathy by torturing potential beggars.
the more horrible the feature, the more money they can bring in.
he was holding an old knapsack.
opening the pocket with stumped hands.
looking at you with wet eyes,
a shaterred smile.
‘thank you;
‘have a nice day’
‘have a nice journey’
‘take care’
Dear Lord, this man is a jewel.
how could his mouth only utter good wishes for people who would look at him,
with fear and sympathy, pity and and sadness.
such strong heart.
Dear Lord, i am most humbled.
most naive, most not knowing.
You are the Only Mighty One who knows Everything ever.
Only You know his life, his deeds, his heart,
his future, his death, his after life,
his heaven, his hell, his Judgement Day.
What he had done, what he is to do,
what is best for him, what is not,
for everything is under Your gaze.
and Your Knowing.
I could only so much pray for this man.
With my humble knowledge of him,
i pray He lives under Your protection,
Your blessing and Your Rahmat.
i pray, InsyaAllah,
this man is worthy of Your Heaven.
Dear Lord,
Most Gracious,
never have i been so humbled,
forgive me from my sin, dear Lord.
forgive me for my arrogance.
I am forever grateful to You.
for every single breath You bestowed on me.
for every single cell and atom You give me.
may it make me a stronger muslimah,
and not lead me astray.
I am grateful for having to meet this man.
For bringing to me a feeling so deep.
to remind us human of who we really are.
Your servant, my Lord.
May this man receive Your most blessing reward for that, InsyaAllah.
With all my Love.
love is that feeling that just burst in your heart.
Do you question God or God question you?
If we take morality out of this world, and everything is allowed, are we really going to be happy? (questioning brother kamarazov quote)
i met monika again. five-months pregnant now. selling big issue on a folding chair. looking tired as hell. i didnt want to meet her again. i had broken a promise. a promise to save her. to get a life for her. i could not do it. i didnt even try.
why would she want to see me?
i had left her four months ago with nothing but a hope.
and yet, when she sets her eyes on me, pleasant shock was all over her. i smiled nervously.
she stood up immediately. abandoning potential donor to open her arms and hug me.
i closed my eyes. i didnt even think of the insignificant others in the whole of london around me. i cherish her warmness.
asked her how its all going. said she is registered with a hospital. need clothes if possible. i nod. hardly daring to promise again.
gave few bleak words of encouragement. soothing my soul as much. feeling absolutely useless.
farewell.