FJ journals - The Student Blog of FJMU

*This is an entry for the July Blog of the Month Competition As the golden rays of sunshine penetrated my window, rolling on my bed I heard the kids down the street rushing and screaming with joy, I smiled inwardly.  Moving back a year, the same situation would have irked me and provoked me to send the flower pot flying down the window. A change of perspective like this is worth penning down. So it all begins after A levels or FSc, the hustle and bustle of preparing for the entry test. How many of us would want to go back to that stage. The utterly baffled and perplexed freshmen to be. Scattered thoughts, wild insecurities, crazy expectations from the parents and the phase where a stethoscope would look as precious as the most sought after Koh-e-Noor . It’s okay! I can literally see you all nodding your head solemnly. Now hails to us all who passed this stage and here we are, the doctors to be. Initially completely excited, breathing the air of freedom, away from house; ...

*This is an entry for the July Blog of the Month Competition Growing up, home was constant. It had one name, and it never changed. As I went through the cumbersome task of growing up and learning that friendships didn't last forever, home became a little less constant. I learned to associate certain things with home, like the beaches and the corniche, barbeques with the salty air a blissful certainty. Tall buildings and that specific brown school uniform, and regular visits to the cultural center in the neighborhood. When circumstances lead to Baba's transfer to another city, home became a yearning, a reluctant shifting of address, a process of dethroning and rebellion, but with the passage of time, home became more than it ever was before. It became the red sand dunes, constantly shifting, yet somehow always the same. It moved to the freshness of green mubazzarah and the slightly chilly air at the top of jebel hafeet . The tall buildings morphed into small ones, the big...

*This is an entry for the July Blog of the Month Competition Home has always been a hard word to define by someone who keeps travelling. As an army brat, I have been a victim of the very same complication. It has always been a sensitive subject for me. Whenever I came across this word, or a concept of having a home, I always felt a feeling of sadness creeping up my heart. To me, home was a place that remains constant in your life, no matter where you are travelling or what are you doing. The concept of coming back home was a fantasy to me.    I would say that during the lifetime of various army transfers, I tried to make every place a home; but the fear of loosing it one day and moving on, with probably no chance of returning, has always kept that struggle at bay. There has always been a concept of hometown, where your grandparents live, but it's hard to call some place home if you visit it once a year on Eid for not more than 3 days and knowing practically no one there...

I take a deep breath, trying to get some oxygen in; but it's of no use. I feel as if I'm drowning, as if every breath is filling my lungs with water instead of air. I get up from my seat and pace about, thinking I could shake off the horrid feeling, but apparently it was here to stay. After a few minutes of pacing I sit back down frustrated and even more exhausted. My heart beats in my chest, each beat echoing throughout my body, the only rhythm that seems constant. Yet it seems to be heavy and burdensome. As if every pulse is a struggle, every beat causes pain that radiates to the pit of my stomach... Breath in. Breathe out.   Breathe in. Breathe out.   You've got this... I look around. Happy, smiling faces greet me. Happy faces that make life seem so easy. Some laughing, some giggling, but I can't even manage a mere smile.   Everything seems too difficult, too draining. I spot a familiar face, and wave at them desperately, trying to get ...

* This is an entry for the June Blog of the Month Competition Dear humbler! I always wanted to know how you are up there. Your limbs? Your spirit? Often I feel that I am not fulfilling your rights. Just pray for me. You are the one that takes me away  from this noisy, polluted and deceiving world to a world of purity, loyalty, freshness and calmness. I love that sense which you offer me. You are the one who tracks me on the right path when I am just going to fall in the distractions of this world. You have saved me many times that i even cannot count them. For me the biggest gift you have ever given is a shoulder to cry on, to tell everyone grief, sadness, agony, every heartache, every wish and every depression. And what you give in return, Oh! I cannot even explain in words. You not only give me support, you give me hope, a new light of calmness, a new way to cope up with the situation and most of all the feeling that you will never leave me alone. I can have you where ever...