Sunday 30 September 2012

Waiting

Waiting...

There is nothing worse than waiting, whether its the bus, an exam result or a life changing decision. 
But waiting is a game, and as in any game, there is a goal or outcome to achieve, a set of obstacles to make it harder to get to your goal, and a set of rules you have to abide.
In the waiting game, the goal or outcome is obvious, so no need to define it. The obstacles are not many, mainly it is just time. The rules of the game are defined by the players, and if you are the only one waiting, then you can define your rules as you wish.
So the main thing in this game is time, you can feel every second of it, you can feel it going through, draining you and sometimes killing you. Still you are sticking to game, no other option but to play it, and wait.
I am an expert in the waiting game, i have been on the waiting before i was even born! 9 months waiting in my mother womb, then years more waiting to say my first words: i do not want to play this game! They did not get it at the time! And since, everyday i am waiting, during the day i am waiting the night to hide in my sleep, and in the night waiting the day to run away of my dreams. 
The other day i decided that i no longer want to play this game, i want to stop waiting, looked at my options and found that to achieve that i have to give up life, so since, i have been waiting death!

Wednesday 26 September 2012

Time


Time

2 parts short story- by Ahmad Baker
Jun, 2012


Him- 1

Time, it is so precious. I try to save every second I could. Running home after a long day at work is a good example of how precious time is, and how careful I am in saving it. I take the Bakerloo line from Edgware Road Station rather than Paddington, that saves me approximately a minute. I am very careful to sit in the second coach, by the end door, so when I get off at Oxford Circus Station I do not need to walk long distance against the crowd to get to the exit, another minute saved. As I reach the Vitoria line I stand under the digital clock, just a foot to the right, that is where the doors open, and that would be the perfect exit for the Finsbury Park station, another minute saved.

I walked onto the tube and stood next to the door on the right hand side, this is the door side that opens at Finsbury, few more seconds! I scanned the passengers as I always do hoping that I can find a familiar face, and to my surprise this time I have!
It has been almost 10 years since we last saw each other, and 10 years is a very long time.

She has changed a lot! Does not life change us everyday without consent! The hair is now blonde; she always said “I will never dye my hair blonde, ever” well, something has changed; I bet there are few greys in there. Few lines appearing around the eyes, age is a fact, we all know, and some are good at hiding it, she used to say that as well. Clearly she has put on some weight, I remember when she used to say I will kill myself if I become fat! She is not fat, yet, but getting there! 

Her smile is not the same, it made me doubt if it was her, she definitely lost the sparkle, that what I loved most! I could see a glimpse of a smile, did she see me, or it is just her normal cheerful attitude to life. She was always happy and cheerful, “there is a lot to celebrate in life and everyday I find new things to be happy about” that what she said to me when I complained how happy she always is. She asked me what things make you happy,  I paused, I wanted to say: you, but I could not.


I looked at her hands and she is wearing a ring, so she is married, however, there no rings to say if you have children or not! What difference would that make?
I said to her once that she will live single and die single, because no man is good enough for her. I did not say “even me” but I kind of knew it. Obviously she has proved me wrong, or maybe I was right about the latter part, not the first one!

I always hoped that we meet again, there were a lot of things I wanted to say and share with her. I wanted to tell her how I really felt about her, which I never did. I wanted to have the chance to start the relationship again, although we have never had a “relationship” as such, we were not in a relation, but we were not just friends. Both of us knew it, but I never had the courage to say a thing, she always looked too good for me, out of my league. Still she was always nearby, very close. As much as we seemed close, we were apart. And as the weird friendship started it ended, sudden! She moved jobs, I could not move. I never called, nor did she!

I did not want her to see me, I did not have words to say to her. After all these years you expect to have loads of interesting stuff that you have done, but for me: life is just as predictable as life could be! Average is the word I would use describing every aspect of it. Average or even below, that is me!

As I was hiding inside me so she can not see me, or see through me, I wondered: why I am striving to save seconds and minutes everyday when over the last ten years I have not done anything worth talking about? Time -I call precious- have been wasted over the past decade.

The tube stopped at King’s Cross, she walked passed me and looked me at the eyes and said: hey you; how are you?
She was walking in way to say that I am getting off here, so I replied quickly as the tube stopped and before the doors opened: I am well.. great to see you. I wanted to hold her in my arms and cry loud I miss you, but I did not.
The doors opened and she got off and looked at me and said: take care!
She never said that before, she used to say: I will see you soon, bye bye! And then wave with her right hand. Sometimes she would wink, I loved that, and she knew it!

I smiled and nodded, did not know what I could say. I threw myself on the empty seat and started to wonder what is the point of saving seconds when I am wasting my entire life?





Time,
Her- 2

 I stopped caring about it long time ago. What is the point of caring about minutes and seconds when you have sixty seconds in every minute; that is a lot of seconds. If I struggle in keeping myself occupied everyday why would I care if I waste an hour here or an hour there.

I got to Victoria station on time, if that makes any difference. I stopped for a coffee before taking the Victoria line to Kings Cross, I am not in a rush. My train from Kings Cross does not depart for another hour, that would give enough time to get there and get myself another hot drink before departure. Sitting in the tube at rush hour must be the most depressing thing ever. “Rush hour” is a rather silly name for the time when everything is jammed and walking a platform would take twice the time! Every body in the tube looked so isolated, some into there paper, others reading books, most are listening to music, and all, I mean it: all are avoiding eye contact with everyone else.

At Oxford Circus station as the crowds pushed their way inside or outside the tube, I saw a familiar face walking in; I am shocked! It has been nearly ten years since we last met, does not time fly? It does not!
As the rest of the passengers, he rushed into a corner and locked himself, into himself. I did not think he noticed me, and I tried to avoid looking at him, but I could not resist. He has aged, I could see some grey hair, and even started to go bold. “My hair is my life line” he used to say that a lot, his lifeline is running low! He also put on weight, he had never been active and fit, but he is clearly letting himself go!

He is wearing a wedding ring, “I will only get married when I find my soul mate; which I do not believe that such a thing exists” that what he used to say, I smiled when I remembered that. Shame there are no rings to tell if you have children; what difference would that make?

Did he see me, not sure if he has! He looked so lonely, like the rest of the passengers on the tube. He was not smiling, rather he had a frown face. “I am happy, but smiling is for others to see that I am happy, not to say if I am or not” he said when I asked him why he rarely smiles. He asked me why I am so cheerful, I wanted to say because I am with you, but I could not. What a strange relation we had, we never had a proper relation, but definitely we were more than just friends. We saw each other everyday, we talked for hours, but we never  said how do you feel about each other. And as the relationship started, it ended: sudden! He changed his mind about moving in the last minute, so I moved jobs and cities and since he never called, nor did I.

I did not want to talk to him because I was ashamed of my failures. What things can I say to him? It has been ten years, and I could not fill a minute talking about them years. Average is the word, everything in my life over the past decade could be summarised in one word: average. What a life that could be abstracted in such a boring expression, I said to myself.  

I started copying everyone else on the tube and hiding inside myself, wondering: why I became so careless and boring. Why I lost sense of time and let life takes me as it wished. Can I just continue like this or I have to face my reality and be myself, again.

As the tube approached Kings Cross I got up and walked towards the doors, which he was standing next to. He looked me at the eyes and smiled; I looked up all the words I know and still did not know what I can say, so I just opened my mouth: hey you, how are you? I wanted to hold him in my arms and cry loud: I miss you! but I did not. He said: I am well, great to see you! He never said such a thing before, he used to say: happy to see you, really I am. And then give me a big smile, I loved that, and he knew it.
I stood there waiting for the doors to open, and hoping that he would say something, but he did not, and the doors did. I made my way out and mumbled: take care. I did not look back.

I walked fast towards the exit, looking at the sings to find the way to my train, I felt the urge inside me to move fast, to try and save time, so I can do more, I have wasted enough.


Friday 21 September 2012

My Dear Friends I need your HELP


My Dear Friends:
Its Ahmad here, I am sorry to intrude on you, but this is now different:


You have known me for some years, I always try to be a nice respectful person and if I was not at times please forgive me. After all I am a human and we all do mistakes, but I will never shy from apologising for my own mistakes.

I have been insulted, I feel really hurt and I need your help.

I am a Muslim, an average Muslim, who tries to live Islam to the best of my ability. I believe in God as the Creator of all things and God has sent messengers and prophets to spread the word of God, among them is Muhammad (may God’s peace and prayer be among them all). As a Muslim I love and respect all God’s messengers, from Adam up to Muhammad (God’s peace and prayer be among them all).

I am sure you have heard of the film made in the USA mocking Islam and Prophet Muhammad, then came the cartoons in France depicting and insulting Prophet Muhammad. Some say this is freedom of expression; true: when the intention is expressing your right to say what you believe in, but when the intention is insult and nothing else, then it is not freedom of expression and it must be stopped.

As a Muslim I feel hurt, I feel very angry that my believe is been ridicule, my role model is humiliated and that I have to defend my identity as a Muslim and my right for freedom of believe.

I have to say that I am proud of being a Muslim in Britain, proud of being British. The UK has took a sensible stand when the Danish cartoons were published few years ago, and today it is taking the same stand, which is good, but not good enough. As a British citizen I take pride that the UK championed the abolishment of slavery in the 19th century and went to a world war defending freedom, human values and fighting fascism. So a nation with such history should do more than abstaining, we should take a firm stand.

I need you to help, as a friend, as a fellow British citizen and as a Human. I am sure you are asking yourself: “what do you want me to do, Ahmad?” I can say a lot, but at least you can do me two favours:

Talk to your friends, family and colleague sharing this view. Saying that you know some good Muslims (that’s me, I hope) and they are “Humans” - just like us-, have feelings! Saying that I know Muslims who are really hurt by this and this should not be allowed to continue. Saying that there is a difference between expressing your opinion and insulting others.

You can take this a step further and right to your Councillor, MP, MEP, or even David Cameron the PM.

This is probably the first time I am asking you a favour, please do not let me down.


Regards,
Ahmad