Kauthar Paints

I

Kauthar rinsed her paint brushes meticulously, looking for any pockets of acrylic paint that could’ve gotten stuck between the bristles the last time she painted. She stacked her supplies in a black reusable bag and slid her starch-white canvas under her arm and headed out to scavenge a good place to be creative – she needed bright colours in her landscape, but not too many intricate details – you see, she was still a general blob-painter.

She set up her material with the lake in the background and peered over her spectacles at the island she could see in the far distance. Kauthar wanted to abandon her things and jump into the lake, and float. Just float on her back, look up at the clouded sky and see where she would end up. But, she supposed painting was more sophisticated, more appropriate for a woman of her persuasion; that is, a woman not wishing to deal with the impracticality of wet clothes after a romantic-sounding dip in the lake.

Her hands trembled as they reached for the brush. All she needed was a bit of white and blue to get started on the sky, and she was transported to another place – a place where all she had to do every day was wake up, soak in the sun, and bask in the glory of creation. The brush strokes were firm, sure, bold. She knew her final product would never be a masterpiece...it wouldn’t be quite fit to be hung in any gallery or even respectable living room. But it was okay because it made her feel alive to feel the marriage of colours, to smell the sweetness in the wind and slight toxicity of the paint invading her lungs; to taste the thirst of getting lost in one brief moment of time, and forgetting to take a sip of water.

That’s how she wanted to live; grasping a freedom that cannot be attained through relationships with other people, only through a myriad of crushed dreams coming back to life through the colours of the five senses.

II

Kauthar carefully stepped into her fourth bridal gown of the day. She marvelled at how heavy these beaded beasts really were, and quietly wondered if it was true that wearing white at the wedding was a tradition that happened by accident – something about how women would wear the fanciest dresses they had, which were coincidentally white simply because cotton was the best fabric out there. So white had nothing to do with purity, just convenience?

That wouldn’t have surprised Kauthar in the least – the supposed man-hating, socialist-leaning creature that she was. No surprise that corporate colonialist right-winged zealots had to market purity as being white. And yet at this moment in time, she was eyeing herself in the change room mirror, a snug ivory gown hugging her body and – good God, I need a tan. The irony was a little much as she stepped out from behind the curtain to hear the other girls “ooh” and “ahh” at the beauty of the regal but much too expensive glam of a gown. This one had a bit of a Marilyn Monroe halter-top edge. And as much as she disliked the idea of a wedding being a sort of sanctimonious announcement of wealth, Kauthar started to love the dresses.

There were strapless dresses, ones that were covered in lace from top to bottom, gowns with enormous trains and endlessly intricate beading. All for her. And perhaps that overly emotional woman crying at the register.

And this was her first time. Kauthar didn’t have many “first-times” in her life, considering she had grown comfortable in her way of life. She ate the same things, dressed the same way (actually, she couldn’t remember the last item of clothing she bought), and thought the same kinds of thoughts. She had even tried on diamond engagement rings before – making up an elaborate story about how her then-fake fiancé was leaving the country this weekend, and she needed to try on diamond rings so she could let him know what kind to buy her.

Yes, this was a first-time. The material draped over her skin and fell to the ground, covering the tips of her toes. As she stood in front of the mirror admiring the elegant bunched up lace around her waist, she wistfully thought: I look like a painting.

III

Omar began to unwrap the DHL package he had just received a few moments ago. The wrapping fell to the ground as he noticed it came with no card, no explanation, no name. It was a large, vague painting of a body of water at sunset, and a deliberately precise streak of ivory paint across the canvas; an empty dress floating above the water.

Part II: 30 day photo challenge

Continuing the photo challenge...although I am technically 2 days late for this update. Oh well.

A picture of your night.

This is me getting into some odd mischief late at night. There definitely is something about the cover of night that makes you want to do stupid and fun and possibly fine-able things.

Like once on the occasion of my little sister's high school graduation, the two of us joined my brother on an all-night eating/movie spree. We went to an arcade, then watched a really late screening of the Karate Kid (Jackie Chan is amazing) and then hit several food joints - for shawarma, then a McFlurry, then we went to a couple different Tim Hortons because they kept not having the thing we really wanted - til we found (a deserted) one that was satisfactory. Amazingness.

A picture of your favourite memory.

I have a lot of amazing memories, but the one that trumps them all just happened last night. My sisters got together with some friends to plan a "surprise" party for me. Unfortunately, prior to the event, one of my friends accidentally spilled the beans and let it slip that this was happening. And my sisters felt very violent towards her because they were working so hard to keep it a secret. That was hilarious.

The party was a blast (the picture here is of a cupcake-cake which was amazing), and we played some interesting and embarrassing games. And throughout the process I realized I have the best sisters & friends I could've asked for, and that's what counts most. Plus there was good food, and that also counts. Ahem.


A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.

This question sobered me up a bit. When I think about whether I want to actually trade places with anyone in the world, the answer is no. Not because I have a perfect life - I don't. And not because I don't aspire or dream about having or being more - I do.

But I deeply value everything that I have and everything that I am, Alhamdulillah. So even if I could cop out and be someone else just for one day, I'd still want to be me. Thus, I refuse to post a picture.

Chocolat

Undoubtedly the best movie ever made.

30 day photo challenge

Sara tagged me to do this 30 day photo challenge with her, which is basically...a 30 day photo challenge...okay my explanation capabilities have been massacred. Let's try this again: over the next month, I will be posting pictures of stuff related to me, in the hopes that my brain does not turn to gooey mush for not being occupied with something.

Let us begin.

Post a picture of yourself with 15 facts.

1. I prefer the boys with beards.

2. This morning I woke up feeling like someone had hit my throat with a hammer. (i.e. sore throat; no I do not live with abusive people).

3. I wish I was a painter who traveled around the world painting stuff in return for food and shelter.

4. I like the Twilight series, and I'm not ashamed.

5. I watch Grey's Anatomy, and I am ashamed.

6. I can eat a surprising amount of bubble gum in one sitting. Followed by a hot dog, a peanut butter sandwich and (to stay healthy) an orange.

7. I got my ears pierced when I was 17.

8. I love the day after Halloween for its cheap chocolate and candy, which I always buy in overabundance as if there will be a world-wide candy and chocolate shortage that I need to stock up for.

9. How is this list not over yet?

10. I am underqualified for jobs that I want, and overqualified for jobs that I'll put up with.

11. I don't like cheesecake.

12. I think the number "12" is kind of arrogant-looking. 11 is softer, while 13 has a bad-boy image going on.

13. I have just over two years to get my drivers' license before my G1 expires. Way to go, Asmaa.

14. I wear glasses and they are purple.

15. It greatly annoys me when people ask me to help them edit their school work just based on the goodness of my heart, coupled with my English skills. I have better things to do with my time than get you a B, when you really deserved a D. Let's not kid ourselves.

A picture of the person you've been closest to the longest.

This is my lovely friend who tagged me to do this post, Sara. And this is a hilarious picture, because it's from the 8th grade, and she's pretending that Science puts her to sleep.

What can I say, we were very sharp and witty at that age.

And although I doubt Sara will enjoy seeing this picture up here, I have faith that she will realize it's simply a way of getting back at her for the interesting photo she put up on her blog :D Also, there is more where this came from. I'm just saying.


A photo of the cast of your favourite TV show

Although I have seen my fair share of shows, I maintain that Arthur is the best show ever made. I'm pretty sure. I've been watching it since it first aired in 1996.

I know quality when I see it.

It is also interesting to note that Francine Frensky always reminded me of Sara (as pictured above). I continue to maintain this position.

Stay tuned for more nonsensical photos and commentary from yours truly.

A case of severe cabin fever...

The version you know:

One two
buckle my shoe
Three four
shut the door
Five six
pick up sticks
Seven eight
lay them straight
Nine ten
a big fat hen.

My version:

One two
go eat cat poo
Three four
you're a chore
Five six
kill some hicks
Seven eight
gain some weight
Nine ten
start again.

I'm going back to sleep.

There's something about getting married that can't quite be put into words...

Being engaged is interesting.

I've kind of been wondering how to write about it on my blog, and even if I should. But then my good friend Sara wrote about it on her blog, and it just seemed perfect for me to direct my handful of readers there. She puts it into the right words for me here. =)

Patience is Rewarded

I once heard Muhammad Alshareef saying something I think is quite poignant. And only in recent months have I realized just how true it is. He said (paraphrased) the precise moment you make the decision to be patient, the doors of this world open up to you, and Allah (swt) makes things easy for you.

I thought this statement was interesting at best. I specifically remember I was going through some tough times at the moment I heard this and I wondered how this could at all be true. I felt I had been patient with my situation for a long time, but nothing was changing for the better.

The problem is, we all think we're being patient just because we're putting up with difficult or annoying things in life. But that's not the definition of patience. Patience is more than just waiting the situation out, it's more than just resigning yourself to misery, it's more than just waiting for better things to happen to you.

Patience is actually about being proactive! It's not about resigning yourself to a situation - rather, it's about accepting your circumstances and taking the opportunity to make yourself stronger through them. We don't know how to be patient - too often do we confuse patience for "resignation" and thus when we are advised to be patient, we almost scoff at the notion, as if patience is for those who are weak. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. It's something you breathe in, something you have a conversation with, something alive and pumping through your veins. Even something you fight with sometimes.

The funny thing is, it takes massively incalculable strength to actually be patient.

I don't think I can honestly identify more than one time where I was genuinely patient. But the one time that I can, just the one time...subhanAllah! All it took was one brief moment of deciding with all my heart to just do ONE small, insignificant thing for the sake of Allah, and He opened up so many doors for me since that small decision was made, it's almost mind boggling.

So, I don't know what to tell you except that we all need to examine what our definition of patience is; I'm not sure if I elucidated it well in this post. Probably not. Nonetheless, it's worth ruminating over because we both know that one of the ultimate keys to success is patience.

So go forth and discuss it with your brain. And smile while you're at it.

Confess

The hardest person to confess your inadequacies and weaknesses to, is yourself.

boys still make me cry

My lovely amazing crazy awesome spunky cutie of a nephew has officially moved to the states. Sadly, we don't know how long they're staying there since it all depends on his dad's work.

Who knew the absence of a 2 year old would be one of the saddest things of life?

I go through my days looking at things around me and remembering what Adam would do or say if he was there. Like how he would always turn to me at the top of a flight of stairs and say "I need horsey" (i.e. a piggyback)...he never "wanted" anything, he always NEEDED it. Or how he would mispronounce certain words (e.g. he'd say "inshide" instead of "inside"). Or how he'd pick up anything and everything we said to each other, and one day he turned to me and said "what the hell" and we died laughing (even though, technically it was bad).

And he always wanted to watch youtube videos, and I would try saying no but he would say "pwease Asmaa" and have a look of pure innocence and pleading...and my heart would melt and he'd always get his way. Sigh.

And now he's gone and I'm sad.

oh man...all my favourite fall shows are back. This is bad.

And yet, so good.