(so much more natural to record the Tragic.)

mom and S sang out alternate verses of kisi roz tum se mulaqat hogi 3 nights ago..could i ask for more bliss to hear her singing from behind the bathroom door while he poured out music through one end of his vocal chords and out the speaker phone on my cell?
or when he calls mom 'ammi' and abbu 'dad' and when miy dad actually asks me 'hows mubashir?, u are blessed to have him'
or when ammi says 'i think if we had picked out a guy ourselves, it would not have been better than you'

the end of the storyline. end of the tragic. if this s Allah's (Swt) reward for patience then i'd go through the two years trapped in my Vancouver cell with a smile on my lips and a wrinkle-free brow.
a little faith goes a longggggggggggggg longgggggggggg way...


is my Dadu-angel still watching over me? it feels like it.

older writings remind me of a more inspired eeda with moonbeams in her voice and starshine under heavy-lidded eyes... why did all of it die in
side despite the lyrics cascading off the wallpapered walls, women singing merry congrats to the bride when i feel like a giddy little child on the outside and stunned little girl on the inside?


23/24th July 2011- yet another move. 
24 B1 7th East Street, Karachi, Pakistan (1989)
to Jubail, Saudia Arabia (1) to Jubail, Saudia Arabia (2) to
24 B1 7th East Street, Karachi, Pakistan (1995) to
P-14/II 9th East street, Karachi, Pakistan ( 2000) to
W-44 Regatta Tripoli, Libya (2002) to
U.S {D.C, NY, N.J, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Virgina}; (August-November 2006) to
W-44 Tripoli,Libya (November-December, 2006) to
P-14/11, Karachi, Pakistan. (December, 2006) to

V6P6L2 Vancouver, Canada (2007) to
L5M0H2 Toronto, Canada (July, 2009) to
M3J0A8 Toronto, Canada (November, 2009) to
L4Z4C7 Toronto, Canada (August, 2010) to
924 Focal (2011).
Home.

(until NY next year that is.)

a move every summer for the last 4/5 year, and numerous before. tiring....
i leave a little bit behind at every place I stay; that's why i remember houses..addresses,..they become the person i was at those places..
or maybe its the house itself that chooses the identity it likes, and keeps..even past when uve moved out.

i see the blank shutters in my old house and i see the old most recent eeda standing at the window sill; and i know EXACTLY how she's feeling and what she's thinking.

the new house hasn't chosen a 'me' yet. i don't know who to be or how to be or what identity to create.

in other events....
last day of class and last presentation--21st July 2011;
'you are the best group leader i have ever had' 'you bring people together..synchronize them in a way that is impossible' 'quality work..you speak so well' 'very well presented' 'you're leaving?! congratulations! i wish you the very best' 'you stayed behind class and taught me how to speak..thank you so much'
beautiful parting words..i want to change lives. i know i can.
end of 4 years of ....cannot capture essences in words...

oh. and 39 days to a Mrs.

milestones milestones milestones.

i erect graveyards of old me's and thread air cradles for the welcoming..

let it begin,begin,begin

-eeda

fairytale endings are tricky little things.

at what point does the fairytale end? when u sign the marriage contract and reality begins? what is the end of the forever?
i think its the time between first meet to the actual wedding. maybe the last night of the honeymoon. who knows?
maybe im being the dubious old me again and i nee to have cheenifaith.

that's the other thing. u get so engrossed with fine-tuning the details of your happy endings you start getting the E word (expectationsss) which kills relationships.
why am i hung up on the finer details? the proposal or lack of. the roses or lack of. when all the love love love is all there in the 4 am i miss u phone calls and the 10 am are u awake yet jaan messages?
smaller things in life eeda.

i had my first dholki on 2nd of july 2011. first public appearance by the boy and myself. got some really nice surprise compliments.
ruby k and other 'aunties' outspoken approval of him. why not? he's the stereotypical handsome fair-skinned gorgeous-smiled well-mannered goodboy. (i pick well. well no, he picked me but we can forget the order for a little bit)
interesting what muz bhai said.
'before i met him i used to think he was the lucky one to have you..now that i have met him i have to say ur the lucky one'

dunno how thats supposed to make me feel.

we signed and applied for the legal marriage license on july 4th. yes, every year america will celebrate with fireworks what is truly not hers, but ours. technically we can apply for a certificate of marriage with the documents and be legally married, but untechnically there's a tiny little portion that the maulvi and witness can optionally fill out if we have the religious ceremony. which we are.
less than. 35 days away.

oh gudness.
its funny how the dates lined up too. we met on the 5th, legal signing on the 4th, nikkah on the 3rd. in reverse order.

still seems like a peachy fuzz dream with maggots. wedding details are maggoty. preparing for a wedding alone is.....hell. dealing with a stubborn mom who insists u wear green when green has reminded u of nausea since u were 5 years old and have never worn green ur whole life...can get tricky.
and other details. but i push along. school S nikkah details clothes mine his and families exams papers in-laws moving houses applying for graduation paperwork finding videographer makeup artist ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
i am swamped. no, swept away by lists and lists and lists running around like robotsquirrels in my mind.

all the poetry and romance seems to have leaked out of me; just tuning the fine details now.

enough vent-ation. more later,
and to those with the wishes and the love. thank u thank u thank u. its been an incredible 3 years and incredibly, this blog has all the details of it. :)
speaking of, i was thinking of proposing to my man. why not? he deserves something special in his life. i need ideas... help!? :)

love,
-eeda

bulawa

(names removed for protection)

yes i drew it myself. and the blue thingy on it. and that is the color combo for the evening.
and u are all invited in spirit.

gooseybumps. is it real?!

-eeda

long

story short.....
 (old post. do the math eeds)


so. i had a lot of pseudo-intellectual spewings/ soul exposes/ emo rants the likes on pieces of soul paper, back of notebooks, scratched in paper margins, nameless word documents etc that need to be typed...just charting the journey i guess.
this year has been..quite an experience. 22 in 3 days. S and family 'seeing me' in...11 days. umra in  18. last semester of classes in 19. ammi happy with the whole thing since 8 (miraculous 180 much?) numbers and numbers and ..stories.

here we go.

-undated-, between sept-dec 2010, pieces.

I believe that somewhere inside there's a small real eeds waiting to come out (and the fact she hasn't yet makes me sad all the time) ....(coincidentally tying in with the 'protect ur inner little girl talk with prof')
hang on little girl.

no more mr.nice guy girl.

You make me Me when I is not I.

-identity moratorium-

is it why i'm willing to majorly compromise myself in exchange for a chance to be myself unabashedly?
(strong willing nutty artistic empowered loving obedient child of the earth)

unabashedly myself. only on paper
on a newsstand near you. 99c a copy.

(nasty) hopeful idealism 

(unreal) healing romanticism

 believe in what nourishes the soul, and not the toxic words of bitter old people. i am still young, i still want stars to light my eyes, even if they are the cheap plastic made in China rip-off kind from the dollar store.

hope, the thing.... (mujhay bachana)

jagmati hui chandni raat hai. raat hai yeh, sitaron ki baraat hai

why is it always so dark on the inside? (except for when you tell me                                       

eeda, no more,                                                                                                                                  

i promise you) 

to believe or not to believe, that is

i tried the world 

it wears no more

the coloring of

romance, it wore.

its raining its raining says she. its raining but inside me.

is it idealism that causes the darkness? the quest for utopic perfection and subsequent .... reality check?         

maybe that's what the bitter old people mean...dollar store starry lights tend to have short fuses.

short lives.

jagmati hui raat yeh, lab per hai shikayatein

-undated 2- summer 2010?

how do i turn shoulders to silkwings and fly?

when my feet are still buried in your crumbling earth...

corners, consoling, condolence

-undated 3-

back from personal jihad. still continuing

my mind has tainted shut of shock

stress 

of reality not seamlessly

interweaving

with sore existence.

July 28th 2010,

'i will talk to you about it later'

when dad? brute force or words of kindness. what will it be about?

you are everything they are not, and that is perhaps why i love you. 

'there is no need'

of course there is need. do not continue to silence voices that need to speak, words you need to hear.

avoidance is Not a solution. 

July 29th 2010.

-stolen-

apnay bhi pesh aen hum se ajnabi, waqt ki sazishen 

koi samjha nahee.

be irada kuch khataein hum se ho gaee.

ankhen....doobi doobi si surmayee madham...

khwab ke bojh se, kapkapati hui. halki palkein teri, yaad atta hai sab.

what if it's just the chase? taking its toll that i'm leaving without you...


reminiscing.....

more trips to the shrink-y. gttakeepsane gttakeepsane gttakeepsane till i get out of here.
S coming this weekend to get the legal license for marriage.
yes. i know. i dont know.

-eeda

there are...

abysses in rainbows, and loopholes in fairy tales.

i always tend to evade the over-dramatic, atleast in my own count, but it follows me like a bad ghost habit. one cultivated from long years of avoidance, playing chase.

words. i used to feel powerful in this own revelation that i could mold them around my wrist like a poisonous snake aching to taste the sour skin surface but holding out of sheer terror.
those same words are terrorizing me now.

I downplayed a lot of things, that I've been feeling guilty about.

I thought that talking to u on Skype was not right.

I thought that talking to u when everyone is feeling awkward is not right.

I thought that caring for u was not right.

I thought that loving u for the person u r was not right.

But all of the above is right if my actions towards u were not of intimacy.

  

At what unturned stone will u mark boundary and say, nay, i have not yet crossed the realm of intimacy to claim you as mine, we are still safe as strangers, woven as friends and perhaps,..
perhaps no more. i may be the phoenix that sears into your heart, can read smoldering looks hastily turned away embedded in anger,i  can read whatever i find reflected in the red pools within your soul..this mirage tells me stories and i say, i love you for all the myriad dreams i dream, and never once of touch, never once of anything beyond the intimate. 
a-quivering i beg to remain with you, without you. 


but how do i begin to forgive? 
why are you still the only one who walks through the fire to ask? why ask.

sometimes, you are more stressful to me than work

sometimes, i paint pathways in the greyblue sky and dot them with silver. 
open and close. not surprise, resignation, and defeat. inevitability.

what have i become?

 i reach out and you lock all the darkness back within me, can we talk of something else?

open and close. yes, what would you like to talk about? 

i see my painted stars drifting, drifting drifting into chaos. 

dulhan se ziada dulhan ki maa..

mere dil se ziada mein... mein kuch nahee. ji ji ji. 

i will paint this summer in strokes of utter, vivid Red..

the golden is irritating me beyond depths i can fathom.

so u noticed?

IBKMB: hey.

eeda: hey

IBKMB: how r u?

eeda: im ok

eeda: =) 

IBKMB: sure?

eeda: yeh

IBKMB:u don't look it.

eeda: ill get there

IBKMB:u r getting worse.

eeda: i need time.

eeda: its not u. its everything else too.

IBKMB:don't lie.

eeda: i would never lie to u. i never have

IBKMB:not even to make me feel better?

eeda: i said im ok.

IBKMB: ok.  I'm just saying that I'll be grateful if u don't lie even to make me feel better.
IBKMB: thankful

eeda: im ok. composed as best as i can be. and its not u, its evrything else too. thats the honest truth.

IBKMB:need venting? 
IBKMB:please do. 

IBKMB: I'll feel better too.

eeda: no. no venting. 
IBKMB: y?

eeda: u cannot vent sadness. u can vent anger

IBKMB: but u can vent the reasons.

IBKMB: u've done that in the past.
eeda: no.

eeda: im tired. let it be.

eeda: it will go 
IBKMB: something is diff.

eeda: this is me when ive had too much.
IBKMB: I know but this is where u vent. 
IBKMB: more the reason to.

eeda: this is where i shut off.

IBKMB: don't, we need u on.
IBKMB: please.

eeda: =)
IBKMB: please say something.

IBKMB:anything.

eeda: i need time. and quiet.

eeda: and myself.

i know i did.

-heh- just re-read that convo. so dramafulawkwardfunnysilly. its going to make me laugh for a longgg time.

time for me to finish this long-overdue paper.

-eeda

kash ke

i could say jo mere andar ho raha hai.


God has a funny way of testing people; but sometimes i feel i've been hand-picked as a favorite. i discovered about M's personality disorder last weekend, and suddenly so much in my life made sense. like all the candles in the room lighting up at once, a scene out of a romance movie this was not, but neither was it abject horror. it was the well-crafted explanation you keep buried in your heart come true to life, and the resulting relief and at once, fear....was crippling..liberating...
the ultimate testament from other ''victims'' they call it echoing in my throat..i am sane.. i have NOT lost my mind. or have i? close to it.
i may need years of therapy to cope, i don't know. years to wipe clear the stains and stumps in a broken heart.
the incidents haven't stopped, just started making more sense. as they enter the realm of my new relationships, i feel withered, defeated, even here. the agony lashes out at her, telling her that at least, let this space be mine own.
they don't understand why i would disengage one i so love; i do not want them to burn in the pride as i have, make me feel the worthlessness that i have become.

and then happened the incident of yesterday. another gross violation of body, privacy, self.... this time again, someone so dear. the distance of it made me temporarily apathetic to what had happened. but S's reaction and utter fury made me realize the depth of what had occured. i cannot face him anymore, living in this same house as me, and i question motives objectives and sincerity behind 'you're doing well'. how naive of me. was it pure brotherhood or?
i cannot bear to think the thought and yet it races through my  mind and in fact, all over my sullen face, giving me a permanent blush...an insane fever burning across my cheeks. i refuse to be the victim but being in his presence after the encounter yesterday seems impossibly hard; like two guilty victims we stare at our toes, phones, knuckles blanched in shame.

what do u do when you lose something so dear to you you built so tentatively? i have learnt that the male ego can never be pure like mine, or am i questioning a friendship where we had promised no questions left unanswered? now a hundred questions bubble in my mind and i cannot think, resounding again with the same persistent 'why' i had and still want to ask my khalu, over and over again.

what is it about me that leads to this i wonder? i am trying to evade the self-guilt but it is impossible in a situation like this, person like me. i float away with agony, crumpled lotus flower form on a grey waterbed....wondering when it will end.

the shrink is is needed again perhaps, the anguish too much for the little frame to contain, the fever flashing across face, mind, heart is crippling my thinking. just an intense sorrow i contain behind a tight lipped facade, smiling only when the tide subsides, retreating in myself otherwise..

save me ya Allah, no more. please no more.
-eeda

can i

have my old S back now?
i miss him, and i'm hating this awkwardness and these fights.

he used to be able to see right through my child-heart and see the pain and the anger and the hurt and the nostalgia.
i don't like his blindfolds, can he not see how much i've been missing him?!

can someone tell him please.


-eeda

he was always bemused to see
the calm oyster shrivel
in the face of the slightest purple
sunset.
and he always wondered how the dark inside
could be more comforting than the paler
blackness of the skies.

said the oyster to her bemused audience
the dark inside may be more frightening, but it and me are
well-acquainted, closest friends
these past few years.
the vast expanse of the sky is yet an unexplored
stranger, and fear
shuts all my doors,
even the ones through which the light may come.

sepia pearls are born, not out of beauty,
but out of the coal black fear.

done deal!

i am now
OFFICALLY
on the fast track to becoming Mrs.Ali
MashAllah!

OMG OMG OMG
OMG OMG OMG

still waiting for it to sink in!!

more details later

-eeda

the call has come, therye on their way.
clothes hair nails in check, smile plastered on and heart a-flutter, flowers and gifts ready at hand.
what is this awkward state of affairs?the whole family sits breaths indrawn, waiting, ticking clocks and hands,
careful not to cease the perfectly ironed shirts, the polished shoes.
mom fiddles around in the kitchen, keeping me out of sight lest she bursts into tears again, sobbing on my shoulder telling me she
doesnt know how she will live without me.
patchy start; late arrival in toronto, bad weather, guests and a new city lead to delay.. my dad is upset, being a man of word and time (barely) except when it counts. this counts. i bite my lip praying for them to hurry, and hoping to delay this time as logn as a ican before i will have to face them.
the sky is a perfect blue,having won over last nights torrential rains..the yellow sun bathes the city centre in a golden glow outside my window..im typing restlessly to take my mind off the yawning pit in my stomach, the jittery fingers, the constrained breath.
such a clash of two worlds i fought so long and hard to segregate into two separate entities..fire and ice coagulate into a ball of frozen tar with a soft cherry pink cottoncandy inside. my dad calls it a rock-solid foundation for the relationship to come.  i cannot believe it is happening, in the Here, Now, Present.
i need to breatheeeeeeeee breatheeeeeeeeeeeeee breatheeeeeee... loved ones message consolations and hope. i hold onto them like flimsy scraps of paper..

going to go and pray now, need some divine moral support on this one... counting down seconds...

-eeda

fate

and just me now...

convo with S while theyre driving up here...

sleepy coconut jaan.

and this was interesting...not that i terribly believe in it.

 

so. lets see what this good news is? and skip the fact it says irfan...longgggg story -_-

-eeda

.

Meet The F

amilies.

not fockers. the siddiquis and the ali's. tomorow. at my place
H-OMG.

i still can't believe it. too good to be true? it's true. does that mean its not good?
did Cinderella's feet really fit that shoe? Was the apple really poisoned?
What happens to those princesses AFTER they get married anyways? how come theres no princess story about marital problems?
blind-sided fools.

i'm oh-so-nervous. there's no butterflies, its elephants in the stomach..and the heart...and intestines. and in that general direction..and... in tu-tu's. i can't sit still. i'm jittery. anxious. excited. nervous. hopeful. questioning. yearning. snappy. blissful. pale. quivering. blushing. defensive... i dont know.

in 24 hours, it will be over. in 24 hours, i will know.

ya Allah, madad.

-eeda

4 to 22.

haey. eeda buddhi.

i was a girl, except

when they removed my ability to move, disapp

roved my right to excuse myself

from discomfort.

i was a girl, except

i was silenced, licensed

to be doormat, eternally, not

speak for my sanity.

i was a girl, except

they disrobed me of my human essence, vul

nerable in their presence, na

ked and shivering, ash

 amed, at their mercy, a-quivering.

i was a girl, except

now, i am a woman.

without choice, without consent,

enforced role, profuse grief

no room to breathe.

-up and down it goes, where it stops,

ain't nobody knows.

question: would you continue to fight for yourself, basic rights nothing too exorbitant, even if your fire burnt everything around you, everything you touched?

if you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything.

i'm suspended in the middle. 

-eeda.

the taught us in class today that research proves writing to be a therapy, healing.

i got a hug from the professor at the end of class. a mternal, tender, hold-you-close and caress-the-back-of-your-head and tell-you-it-will-be-okay kinda hug. much needed. maybe one day i will send her this, and she will read it

and if one day you read it Dr.Sabrina; i want you to know that that hug was the most profoundly tender and heart-warming experience i've had in a little while. thank you  so much for being beyond a professor; but a lifeguard to me? there are miracles in strangers who remind you that you are not only strong, you are great..and that greatness shines out through for others to see..thank you for being that 'other' person who reminded me to have faith in that greatness..for having faith in me for one day changing the world..


a little faith goes a long way with the little child inside, begging for justice, hope and above all, love.

things have been busy on the personal front; arrangements for the upcoming engagement , sometime next month his family is coming over to 'see me' cement the deal ,maybe slip a  ring or atleast leave with a date to do so..ammi still hasnt warmed up to the idea of me and him; any talk of him meets her stone-cold blank face and likely no response.

it is beginning to overwhelm me too.picking out the color of bathroom tiles in his basement, i am overcome with  homesickness while still cosy in my room..the thought of moving away, leaving, going into a new house scares me..im apprehensive, nervous, jittery..cold feet (literally) sweaty palms and a racing heartbeat..excitement on sunny days, optimistic plans and imagining lying down beside him, making him cold mayo and chicken sandwiches in the morning, small imperfect little habits...its overwhelming, school is overwhelming, ammi is overwhelming..everything is just...i dont know

 on the flip side..i decided to go to my schools monthly dirty bingo get-together's and homg. clearly. the world has lost its mind. in just one example of absurd perverseness, the lead host (african american male avec moustache and two pillows each for boobs and three for the butt region with black/grey wig) big momma got two girls to have beige dildos stuck between their legs (with pants) pointing outwards to fight each other's..well..fake thingy.

yep. entertainment of the night.needed it after the intense emo session with prof earlier,not that i regret it for one second..just needed something to put a smile on me before i headed home spewing rainbows from my teeth liek i try to.

all for now where updates are concerned..thinking of doing a new blog on profs request.
here goes,

:)
eeda