Archive for the ‘nostalgic remains’ Category

Kiddie Viddie

Thursday, June 2nd, 2011

During the Gulf war of 1990 my family moved to London. I spoke few words of English, and soon after my parents realized that it will take more than the hoped for days for Kuwait to be liberated, we were then faced with the issue of settling in.

My parents tried to encourage us to learn the language and one of the methods they thought was best is through videos. A group of Christian missionaries were selling Children videos in Hyde Park and my parents bought the collections in a bid to hit two birds with one stone. Teach us language and morals.
As I was looking for some videos for my children I searched for those old ones and found them online. I recently noticed how they affected my personality.
Below is one of my favorite. Enjoy

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Posted in nostalgic remains |

Old poems (6/6): Thank you God

Wednesday, December 30th, 2009

Thank you God for the eyes you gave me,

so I can watch the view of the sea.

Thank you for my nose,

with it I can smell the pretty rose.

Thank you for my tongue and mouth.

I can speak languages from north and south.

Thank you for my ear.

I love what they can hear.

Thank you for my feet.

I can take a walk down the street.

Thank you for my heart.

It is a very interesting part.

With it I live each day,

and with your love I enjoyed today.

Well this is the last of the poems I selected. All were written at age 13 or under. I was producing a lot at that time due to the encouragement of my family and friends. Especially those who took the time to check them :)

Accompanying rose

Accompanying rose

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

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Posted in Poems and Songs, nostalgic remains |

Old poems (5/6): My father

Tuesday, December 29th, 2009

I thank you God for a wonderful dad,

who has taught me what is good from bad.

I always want to make him proud.

Even if I have to fly to a cloud.

he is always in my mind.

He is lovable and kind.

I wish I can give him the world in return.

For what he made me learn.

God bless you everywhere.

everything loves you even the air.

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Posted in Poems and Songs, nostalgic remains |

Old poems (4/6): They asked me

Monday, December 28th, 2009

They asked me: Who do you love?

I answered: The one above.

They asked me: Who do you respect?

I answered: Who made everything ready and set.

They asked me: Who do you care for?

I answered: Who made me and more.

With only one blink,

they stopped to think.

They almost went crazy to shout.

They knew who I’am talking about.

they knew it’s the Lord,

which my heart always afford.

I have to mention that I was at a Catholic school for a year and I loved the idea of singing to God. I think it influenced my poems slightly, although God has always been a central theme in my life.

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Posted in Poems and Songs, nostalgic remains |

Old poems (3/6):Peace

Sunday, December 27th, 2009
The flower I drew for this poem

The flower I drew for this poem

Just put your hand with mine

and the world will be fine.

There is something deep inside me.

Something that no body can see.

Let us be a one loving family,

so that we can live forever happily.

It’s a dream I’m waiting for.

It’s a dream can wait no more.

Leaving the world with peace,

is what everyone has to release.

From a caring and loving heart.

And looking at the best part.

I’m sending my messages to you.

I hope they will go through.

It is very interesting to see your writing after many years to remember the thought you once held and compare them with the values you currently hold.

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Posted in General wonderment, Poems and Songs, nostalgic remains |

Old poems (2/6): Nature

Saturday, December 26th, 2009

Another one at around thirteen years of age. At this point I was living in Halifax, Canada.

The sky is bright blue,

This is from my notebook which I decorated at age 13

This is from my notebook which I decorated at age 13

that the sun shines through.

The water is so clear,

that it can disappear.

The leaves are so green,

but in the winter they are not seen.

The roses are so red.

I can put them near my bed.

The sun is so yellow,

which the earth always follows.

Special thanks to my teacher Mrs Boyd who was correcting my poems. I used to bring her a bunch after class and she would leave me comments.

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Posted in Poems and Songs, nostalgic remains |

Old poems (part 1/6): I’d like to be

Friday, December 25th, 2009

Below is the first poem that I can remember writing. I was about twelve when I wrote and my English was at its infancy.

I’d like to be like the sun,

always shine, have more fun.

I’d like to be like the sand,

growing up to be a big land.

I’d like to be like the star,

Not so near not so far.

I’d like to be like the moon,

Says good bye and comes back soon.

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Posted in Poems and Songs, nostalgic remains |

A prayer for my friend

Sunday, December 13th, 2009

In preparation for the new year I decided to give away some of my old things. Reasoning that someone might make better use of them. Also, since I did not use them all this time, then most likely I will not any time soon. So during my careful screening process I stumbled upon some old letters and birthday cards that i have kept over the years. Having lived away from my friends and relatives, I was keeping in touch by means of letters, cards and even fax.

I saw old fax paper with most of its content faded, and bearing information that I have almost forgotten. I was looking at the different events they covered and the different senders. Some letters were for a simple hello others were more detailed. They took me back in time and I remembered my feelings then and the different people who I came across. I went on facebook to look for lost friends and I went through the different pieces of paper trying to look up different names. I was guessing if they would be using the internet yet alone facebook. Some with surnames I struggled to remember and others I found in old cards. Old teachers, class mates and friends.

I kept on reflecting and as I went back through the faces I once knew. Their young thoughts, words and dreams. I wondered what had become of all of these people. I came across one person who I lost so early. My special friend was killed at age 22. As I looked at the letters she has written, I felt her beautiful voice and I remembered her strong opinions values and beliefs. I cherished these letters that served as a reminder of how she impacted my life. I wish I had more tokens of her existence. And as I packed these letters I sent a prayer to my friend, may she rest in piece.

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Posted in nostalgic remains |

Where we left off

Saturday, December 12th, 2009

Growing up, I had a detailed analysis sessions that i would carry out on my behaviour in order to develop or remove certain traits. I would usually assess my actions at the end of the day and see if there was anything I should have done better, anything that I felt I should have avoided and then I would consider other people’s actions and words and assess their impact on me and what I would like to incorporate or delete from my personality, having experienced it from the receiving end.

I was very serious about self improvement, and my assessment was mainly in terms of what is a good or bad behaviour rather than anything else. My rationale, back then, was that if I was good then God would grant me all my wishes. That my goals and dreams would be in the right track.

Upon observing my behaviour I had noticed something, which was unique to my circumstances of growing up away from my father in a foreign country. I lived with my mother and siblings in London, while my father was back home in Kuwait. And as I would carefully sculpt the personality I wanted to have, and the manner I carefully selected to go by, I was shocked with the almost automated default setting that I kept following. Basically, each time I would see my father or any other family member in Kuwait I would start to act in the same manner that I did from the last visit. As if I was  carrying on the behaviour or conversation from where we last left of.

It was very weird because I would feel that I was going back a step or few in my development. That I would revert back to someone I chose to abandon. The skin I once shed would again drape me. And I would think, “for the love of God why is this happening?” It took extra effort on my part to control my reflex and go by what I have chosen to represent. The articulate rounded person that was raised by my own bourne. Rather than a childish unorchestrated yodeler with aims unknown.

It was an often involuntary pattern that i would find my self in and was unaware of the reasoning behind it. I was not sure if it was the collection of memories that would trigger such behaviours. Maybe the place, sound or smell would recall certain associated actions. I voiced this to my brothers who felt the same way. However it was necessary to break the pattern as I preferred to behave in the latest version of myself rather than keep skipping back to previous version besides some new features were not compatible with older platforms and it was very clear that I had to take action and it took quite an effort to initiate new topics and always thinking of updating my surrounding relatives. Wouldn’t it be simpler if we were machines :)

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Posted in General wonderment, nostalgic remains |

Where is the cheese?

Sunday, December 6th, 2009

Although it is a Kuwaiti tradition to gather for sipping tea in the morning or after lunch, it was not something that my father encouraged us to do. He would refer to tea and coffee as the drinks of the weak and those that were not health conscious. As his children we were better off taking a daily spoon of honey, cod liver oil, spirulina tablets and molasses (sometimes).

My mother still introduced the tea with milk ritual with biscuits dips. But, I  was on my father’s health conscious team and decided I could do without caffeine. However, when we moved to London in my early teens I had a different indulgence. On random afternoons my mother and I would select a cafe for an after shopping, peaceful, afternoon tea. When I would drink my preferred Earl Grey tea accompanied by finger sandwiches and awaited scones, jam and clotted cream.

It is in these outings that I first discovered the notion of cucumber sandwiches. When I first saw my first one I wondered if something was the matter with the waiter. “Where is the cheese?” I wondered. “How can anything be eaten without it?” We had all sorts of cheese blended with all sorts of fillings and at times seemed more primal than the toast keeping it all in. I was willing to eat cheese with cucumber and miss the toast but not the cucumber without cheese. It is interesting to find that our eating habits can be so linked to our expectation and food satisfaction. I felt that something was essentially missing. I could not imagine such a combination, but after giving it an open minded taste I rather enjoyed the experience and cucumber sandwiches were my first catch in all future finger sandwich assortments.

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Posted in edibile delights, nostalgic remains |
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