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Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

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life

Eyes

via Writing Prompt #381

eyes

Crumpled paper covers every flat surface of his room, he can’t get the eyes right.  He is usually very good at sketching portraits but the eyes were haunting him.  It all started one day in his dream.  He dreamed he was sitting next to the lake hand in hand with a lady dressed in a light blue dress.  She had her head covered by an over-sized hat and her delicate fingers wrapped in pink lace gloves.  Her brown hair did not move.  It was propped and primped into soft waves that cascaded around her face and framed her small features.  She was looking down at her hands and her long thick lashes set themselves ever so gently on her cheekbones.

He wondered who the lady may be but didn’t know how ask.  He was afraid to speak lest the calmness be disturbed by his voice.  He wanted to whisper her name, but what was her name?  He studied her face and the bridge of her nose while her eyelashes fluttered with the breeze.  She was exquisitely beautiful, perfect in every way imaginable to man and he wondered what she was doing with him.

He coughed gently, trying to get her attention and to feast his eyes upon her face.  He saw her cheeks rise in a smile and the glisten of her teeth between her rosy lips as she raised her face to look at his.  That’s when he saw her eyes.

He tried to sketch them again and again but nothing comes close to the captivating spell of her lashes.  Nothing comes close to the arch of her eyebrow, nothing comes close to the glimmer reflecting in her iris, and no shade of blue comes close to the depth of her inner sea.  He was mesmerized at that moment, captured in her jail and transferred to eternal salvation.  Or is it damnation?  He knew that it was then that he lost all sanity and no longer became a free man.  He knew that it was she who held the key to his heart forever.

Crumpled papers turned to canvases and walls filled with pencil sketches, oil paints, water colors, chalks, and markers.  Nothing of the ordinary seemed valuable to him anymore as he continued his search for the perfect eye.  He looked forward to sleep every night just to see her again but sleep became scarce and hope disintegrated into madness.  Madness that consumed his soul and he was left with nothing but crumpled papers and a dream.

Choices

via Writing Prompt #377

burka

He looked from one covered face to the next, trying to understand how this is all happening to him, why he is expected to choose his future wife in such a bizarre way.  His mother stood still eyeing the girls and clicking her tongue in disapproval whenever one of them looks up.  It was so sudden for Hamza, he expected to at least unpack his bags before setting off to his uncle’s house.  But no, his parents were waiting for him in the car and were determined to marry him by the end of the week.

Hamza just finished his engineering degree in Frankfurt and was having a great time when his parents called and asked him to come back home.  So soon? he asked.  You got your degree, there’s no excuse to stay.  He knew that being the perfect Muslim son meant following your parent’s wishes and so reluctantly packed his bags to go home.

But home wasn’t the same.  He didn’t know of his parent’s plan nor did he wish to indulge them into imagining that he would marry based on nothing.  He stared into the faces and thought that they were all the same.  Some of the girls were shorter, others were chubbier, yet their eyes remained set down.  He tried to think what would make a difference in a marriage and his mind took him to his cycling days on the main river where he saw old couples holding hands and walking.  He would like that, he thought to himself.  He would very much like to grow old with someone he understands and who understands him.  The problem is how can he make sure that behind burka number #1 is the right person or maybe behind burka #4 is a better fit.

His father was standing outside with his uncle chatting and laughing, not realizing that Hamza was being sent to a slaughterhouse.  His mother was tired of waiting and came over to whisper,

“my boy, choose any of the girls, they are all good Muslims.”

“but mom, how would I know if I will be happy with her?”

“you won’t know, my son.  Just choose and let us get this over with.  Your uncle thinks you should marry one of his daughters and keep the money within the family which is true.  Why marry someone poor when you can get richer as a bargain.”

Richer as a bargain, he scoffed and looked at the girls one more time.  They didn’t seem to release any hints, none looked him in the eye, and none twitched.  He sighed, here goes nothing.

He chooses quickly without understanding what his choice means, without caring that this gamble of a marriage is as successful as any.  He doesn’t care what goes on in his life after this, his society may have enforced the face covers on his cousins but his heart is forced to be covered too.  It doesn’t matter who he marries, as long as the money stays within the family.

 

The Gift

iwp37

Image Writing Prompt #37

Jacqueline stood next to the shop waiting for her best friend, Danielle, to show up.  It was a sunny Saturday morning in the small village of Piana where trade was plenty and spirits were high.  Danielle skipped down the road and smiled at Jacqueline who held up the bag of coins they managed to save from the beginning of the year.  It was finally time to buy the gift.

Both girls entered the shop reluctantly:  Jacqueline with her high blond ponytail and Danielle’s short black hair were out of place in the high class French accessories shop but they didn’t seem to realize.

  • There are too many to choose from, aren’t there?
  • I know

They walked past a red velvet hat that caught Jacqueline’s eye.

  • how about this one?
  • I don’t think my mom likes the color red.  What about your mom?
  • She prefers dark colors.

Danielle’s hand touched a brown leather glove with a fur trim.  She picked it up and took in the musky scent, smiling.  It dawned to her that her mother’s gloves were worn out and immediately thought this would be the best gift.  Jacqueline was eyeing a black velvet hat with a yellow bow imagining how it would look on her mother’s head.  She loved how her hair glistened in the sun and her blue eyes twinkled when she saw her coming home from school.

They stood next to the cash register clutching tight onto their new possessions.  Their heads barely reaching the table as they raised themselves onto their toes to see the saleslady.

  • Good day, how much for these?
  • Hello little girls.  Do you have enough money for both?
  • Yes, we were saving for a long time and want to give our mothers a present.
  • That’s nice.  15 francs for both

The girls giggled and handed the money over, keeping the extra few coins for themselves.  The items were packed neatly in separate pink bags and both girls skipped outside the store.  They hugged each other, smiling and giggling, not believing that they were finally able to buy something so beautiful for their mothers.

They walked down the long and grey path, two girls with identical bags and smiles upon their faces, hoping that their gifts will be accepted with a smile.

Don’t Look Back

One-Way

 

looking-back

Life takes us forward for a reason.  Things that happened in the past should stay in the past; you should only carry the lessons you learned forward.  People you once knew and no longer know shouldn’t be thought of, you are just wasting your time paying attention to a minor detail that no longer matters in the course of your life.

Seize your day.   Be happy where you are and live in the moment.  There are many things we take for granted and cannot see because our eyes are focused on the rear view mirror.  Life is a one way street that needs to be treasured.  It is the journey that matters, the only journey you will have, so make it count.

Laugh with your loved one.  Don’t let your pride stand in the way.  Apologize when you’ve made a mistake because nothing matters.  Hold values in the center of your being and make sure nothing alters what you’re truly made of.

A one way street, focus forward.

 

The Freezing Lake

Source: Writing Prompt #350

images
She floated above the freezing lake waiting for the monster to reveal itself.  The cold air fluttered around her like pigeons.  She sighed, breathing warmth into her cold hands.  A little ripple barely noticed was all that she needed to smile.  He’s come, she thought to herself.

She turned to her right just as the monster’s head gently surfaced.  His blue skin was sleek with water dripping down, his green eyes glittering with the reflection of the mountains around.  Sarah, is it time?  It said in husky voice.

  • yes, my dear.  It is finally time
  • And are you certain that you’ve made the right decision?  Is this the right way forward?
  • Yes, I am certain.  I have thought of this long and hard.  I cannot bear to think what could happen lest I stay.

No answer, the sound of silence was calming.  She looked at the monster whose head was rested on its back and thought of the many days she spent conversing with her friend.  Their friendship was anything but conventional and she will miss it dearly.

  • The road you are taking is dangerous.  There is no way back.
  • I don’t want to come back
  • What if you do?  What if you miss me?
  • You will always be in my heart, Barlac
  • Will you remember me?
  • Always
  • You will be too busy with test after test.  It is not sheltered out there as it is with me
  • I am ready to undergo all the tests that are sent my way

More silence.  A cold wind brushed across Sarah’s face.

  • Are you already packed?
  • Yes
  • Did you pack everything you need?  Did you pack something to eat and something to drink?
  • I only packed my food and water
  • What about your clothes?
  • I don’t need anything more than what I’m wearing
  • It will get too cold

The sun was setting and Sarah felt like it was now or never

  • Barlac?
  • Yes, my dear
  • What will you do without me?
  • I will wait
  • Wait?
  • Yes, I will wait for another girl to stumble upon my lake so as to teach her the secrets of life
  • But life is out there, not in here
  • Is it?
  • Yes.  Everything you taught me cannot be applied in the outside world!
  • Can’t it?
  • Is this good bye?
  • Yes.  Thank you for everything
  • Never forget who you are
  • I won’t.

And with that, Barlac tipped forward onto Sarah’s head in what can only be considered a kiss and quietly descended back into the quietness of the lake.  She stood taking the scenery in for the last time, recalling the days she sat discussing Barlac’s teachings, debating morals and historical events, and uncovering answers for questions she never asked.  It was time to learn and unlearn, time to move on, and time for another chapter in her life.

You Will Pay

Source: Writing Prompt #348

 

knife.jpg

She somehow finds the last of her energy and launches herself up and at him with the knife.  She could taste the familiar metallic tang in her mouth and knew that her lip was bleeding.  It barely healed before this episode.  It was a daily ritual for him as he enters the house and immediately loses his mind.  It wasn’t anything important or drastic this time.  It was that his dinner was a bit cold.

The reason was never really important or drastic.  The children are still awake.  The lights in the kitchen were on.  Her friend called during dinnertime.  All ridiculous reasons.

But this time, when she felt her head bang on the table again, it was as if something or someone possessed her.  She could feel her eyes swelling and her lip burst open but she didn’t cry again.  This time was different.  She wasn’t afraid.  She didn’t cocoon into a fetal position rocking and crying and begging him to stop.  This time she was angry.

It all boiled within her in seconds.  She saw a flash of everyday of the last ten years: every slap, every punch, every beating.  She saw how she would bow in shame and follow his orders.  She even recalled how she lost her baby a few years.  It all came back to her.  He told her she wouldn’t be spared just because she was pregnant.  She begged for him to have mercy on their child but he just laughed.  A hysterical laugh and said, “do you think that you can get away with your mistakes?” The anger of it all, the horror of her life, the burden she kept all arose in her and exploded.  She exploded.

She pulled herself to the counter and rested her head on its cool surface.  She saw the knife eyeing her and her hand crept towards it, with a life of its own.  She wasn’t her hurt obedient self; she was the woman she always wanted to be.  She turned with the knife clutched between her fingers and madness in her eyes.

You will pay.

Life as a Fraud- Inferiority Complex

Fraud

inferiority-Complex.jpg

They say confidence is key.  Key to what, I wonder as I put on my beige dress.  Here I am getting ready to graduate at the top of my class from a great university and I still wonder how did I get here?  I never thought I was the sharpest tool in the box (is that how the saying goes?) and I never really did so great in school; and yet I got accepted in the state university on a full scholarship.  I remember joking with the counselor who insisted I apply for the scholarship telling me that I was a great student and all universities would love to have me.  I thought he was joking but I got nudged into it by my mom who held the camera as I played the violin.  I missed a few notes but didn’t feel like redoing the whole thing, so I sent in the tape with all the mistakes.

A few months later, I got the acceptance letter and felt ecstatic.  Scared, but happy.  Then my complex kicked in: am I as good as they think I am?  Am I really worth the money they’d be throwing away?

I walked around campus those four years trying to keep to myself most of the time but it was evident that things cannot go unnoticed.  My high grades got me on the honors roll and I was turned into one of the university teaching assistants and library buddy.  I was also playing the violin in university performances and was given awards for “best performance” and “Classical music guru”.  Yet I kept wondering what they see in me.  What can they see that I can’t?

When things go against my will, I understand.  I live in that unknown and thrive in knowing nobody is watching.  Then I excel, and everybody watches… and I start questioning.

Am I a fraud?  Am I an illusionist who has everyone scammed into believing I am made of something that I am not?

Then I look around, and see people who have accomplished less than I have, look half as good as I do, and are less talented but who are booming with confidence.  I choose to keep quiet in seminars, even though I know the answers before anyone raises their hand.  I try to live in the shadows of my doubt, to live behind those who are in their fuschia and turquoise dresses, screaming for attention.  I choose to stay in the shadows where only those who are looking for perfection would find me, could find me.  They would take me out, polish me a bit, and stand in awe at who I am.

And then, as I stand glistening in the sun, I will still wonder if I’m a real diamond… or a fraud.

Scars and Stretch Marks

tattoo

Many people prefer to hide their scars and stretchmarks not keeping in mind that they make us who we are.  We are all born the same: an empty canvas which awaits what life brings upon us and which can be showcased to our grandchildren.  Yes, scars remind us of the times we learned and stretchmarks remind us of the times we grew.

Scars.

Physical scars from childhood reminding us not to take that route,  not to climb that tree, and not to play with those kids.  Physical scars from adulthood reminding us not to take that route (yes, again), not to forget the seat belt, and not to talk to that guy.  Emotional scars from childhood and during adulthood reminding us that best friends may change, boyfriends may cheat, and loved ones may die.  Scars that represent lessons in life, that tell a story of where we have been and where we once longed to be.  Scars tattooed all over our bodies and souls making us human.

Scars that cannot be covered.

And stretchmarks.  Representing the times we changed and grew: gaining weight after high school, losing weight when you realize that weight you gained was a bit too much, growing less confident, growing more confident, pregnancy and motherhood, changing what we believe, changing who we believe, changing who we are.  All those changes are changes to our skin and our minds.  Not accepting to change means that we are made out of stone and are no humans.  Not all change is evident but a simple change makes a big difference in our humanity.

 

I do not wish to hide my scars nor my stretchmarks.  On the contrary, I wish to show everyone all my wounds, to show how alike we are and how human we can be.  I accept the lessons in my life and thank the growth that they brought upon me: work less, love more, and be gentle.

Peace

Magnetic

meditation-aids-healing

You are a magnet to all the beautiful and good things in life.  Love, laughter, joy, money, success, are all being drawn to you.  You are powerful in yourself.  You have in you the power to heal yourself and others all through your mind.

You are powerful.

And I am powerful.

And the person sitting next to you at work is powerful.  And the person sitting in his house halfway across the globe is powerful too.  Every person is given the power to change and alter his universe through the meditation and mindfulness that places him in the now.  Meditation and mindfulness that turns us into magnets for the good that we want and hope for.

Meditation and mindfulness strong enough to gather all the strength of the universe in the center of your being, thereby pulling towards you all goodness found around, and releasing it to others in the form of love.

Loving kindness meditation, a Buddhist tradition, is when a person concentrates on sending love and kindness towards another.  We often find ourselves thinking of loved ones when we are away from them, so knowing that we can send them love is heartwarming.  Knowing that there is love being sent your way is heartwarming too, someone thinking of you and wishing you are well.

So if everyone is a magnet, and everyone can send and receive love, ideally we can get rid of all things bad around.  If love is in the air, literally, thoughts of love flying from one person to another, the world that is filled with hatred and discrimination and war must deteriorate.  If thoughts are our most powerful force, and humans are the most powerful vessel for such a force, we should be able to get rid of darkness through love.

Meditating and mindfulness, thoughts of love, loving kindness meditation, are all arms and tools we shouldn’t ignore when facing wars.

Because what can be more beautiful than forces of love towards a fellow human?

What do you wish for?  World peace.

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