A Recipe for Beauty

There is no such thing as an ugly woman - that make up can't fix,
A little bit of powder, a little bit of paint to make a girl's complexion seem what it aint,
you know the saying, the average woman would prefer beauty over brains,
because the average man can see better than he can think.
See a man's face is his autobiography, whereas a woman's face is a work of fiction.
women dress alike all over the world, we dress to annoy other women
so when a woman sits in-front of her mirror, she doesn't spend her whole time
to make her self as advantageously as she really is - nah
but tries to be as much of another creature as she possibly can.
Why we try to do this, how can i possible elaborate? but you can be sure,
the woman who will rise from that mirror will be different to the one who sat down.

Covering a woman's face with makeup isn't like maths or physics,
it comes with easy instructions, if you follow through the results never disappoint,
wash the face, scrubbing it clean with the hair tide back, then proceed to
line a thin coat of base to ensure makeup doesn't seep too deep into the pores,
with a sponge or fingers, apply the foundation to match your skin tone,
until it exactly matches the skin, don't forget the neck, with a brush,
put on the powder, evenly across the face.
Transfer the attention now to the eyes and style them with eye shadows,
eyeliner, mascara, brow definer, eyebrow curlers, to your ultimate satisfaction,
line your lips with lip-liner then continue to spread a lipstick of your choice,
for a more glossy and pouty feel add a long-lasting lipgloss into the mixture,
sprinkle blush onto the apple of the cheeks to give you a healthy glow,
you may use any brands of make up of your choice, mac, chanel, maybelline,
clinique, bobbi brown, jioney, miss rose, mary kay, avon, or imani
then voila you will have a beautiful, dark gorgeous woman radiating with glow,
garnished with equally sophisticated or simple hairstyle,
Thus making you instantly popular and a head-turner if not a traffic-stopper.

This is all good right? After all a woman should be an illusion. Right?
It depends. If the makeup you put on your face defines who you are,
then its time to ditch that recipe and  create your own blend, to be a woman,
a face, naked, minimal makeup, believing that the way you are is beautiful,
and its enough. That the naked face - no matter how beautiful -
is remarkable because it is naked - not because it is beautiful.
"why do women pluck their eye brows and then draw them in pencil?"
one of my friends asks me, and yes its a guy. He continues "why do you
hide away the natural hair and put on weaves that don't match you,
why can't black women embrace their originality, with the nappy hair,
glowing skin, round asses, pouty lips and hips that drive us crazy?"
Why is that not enough? What can I tell him?
When I personally fall victim to the same predicament, you should
see me at a wedding, or a day in the office, or a casual meet and greet,
you may not be able to recognize me, but i do have my down to earth
moments where I go out naturally, nothing to enhance my appearance,
liberated and exhilarated in how I was created, and someone has to
walk up to me and ask me, "are you okay today?"

For New Members and All Followers,

My Miracle

As a father I am awed by your presence, humbled that God chose to send such a beautiful miracle that is you into my life. I always remember that day with reverence when the Heavens smiled down at me and blessed me with you. I cannot describe to you the infinite joy I felt when your small, soft body was placed in my hands. I felt that I would hurt you - and you settled comfortably in my arms. Something hard melted in me, you had already held my heart in your little hands, I had this beaming light inside me, each time you looked at me, each time you gurgled at me, I almost tried to believe that you knew me by instinctive sign. My seed combined with your mothers, showered in God's blessing - I had helped create a life. Your life. 

My son, you will soon grow into a little man, what can I tell you, how can I teach you how to live, how can I mold you into what you need to be - actually I don't want to tell you anything about living life, I just want you to watch me. As much as I want you to grow I realize that I need to do some growing. Your father needs to set his priorities, to accommodate you into my busy schedules, and I want to always remember that my presence is much better than my presents.  See it is much easier to become a father than to be one. 

My son, I had a great role model in my father, your grandfather. He was a great man, he would have been proud of you, he would have wanted to spoil you, to spend time with you, to love you. But he was taken from us too soon. I would have loved to place you in his care, for him to teach you a thing or two here and there, for him to see me for the man I am, to help me become the father I know I can. Although he is no longer with me, he is as a gentle hand on my shoulder, the lessons he taught me in early life live with me to this day. He gave me support and freedom, made sure I knew that I was important, destined to create a better life for myself. I would like to believe that I have not disappointed him, that somewhere he is smiling down at us, because in-spite of thousands of books on expert advice in how to raise children, the right way to discipline a child is still a mystery to most fathers and mothers...only the grandparents know how to do it. So even if he is not here, you have a loving grandmother who loves you to bits.

Ah, too many thoughts in mind, too many worried emotions in how I want to do this right for you, for me, for your momma. But you are a child and what you need most from me right now is unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, and lots of hugs. You are my first child, so you are my experiment, I am new at this, (and yes that does give you an excuse to get away with a lot of things.) As you claw my face, laughing, deliriously enjoying my presence, accepting me, I am whole once again. A garden of love growing in my heart, every time you smile at me. I love you infinitely. So even if I wont get it right all the time, I promise to do the best I can.  

This is to You...

I have always been different, weird, never fitting in,
always rebelling, not conforming, special, strange,
until it got so lonely in that place, until I no longer wanted to be me,
until I became an outcast, a stranger in a place so familiar,
heads turned, hushed whispering followed places I passed,
people I knew trying to decipher the puzzle that I am,
I had to work so hard to defend being myself,
until I longed to be just like everyone else.

So I tried to be as normal as I could be,
tried so hard not to speak so randomly,
swallowed my words so I don't say what I really feel,
or run around screaming because it makes me feel free,
I boxed myself in into a compartment and put it aside,
Tried to act like a lady, sassy, classy, filled with pride,
did what was expected of me and not what I wanted,
did it so well until I was so suffocated,
maybe I don't want to try so hard to fit in anymore,
maybe I was born to stand out like a sore thumb,

I want to thank you for making me realise this,
I am neither weird nor strange, I am limited edition,
You inspired me to be more than the boundaries positioned,
to push the status quo, to try something I didn't do before,
what do you want me to do? You said I was so good,
at giving advice, a genius at assessing perspectives,
gentle enough to never hurt feelings intentionally,
so I should share me with everyone,
do something out of my comfort zone,
strip myself bare, shed my insecurities, denounce my worst nightmares
and clean all the skeletons everywhere -  and share.

You made it sound so simple, to start a collection
of my thoughts, of my ideas, to keep track of my mind
as it wonders, of my imagination as it soars,
write it all down and start a blog of my own.
You were so sure that I could do it, that I have all
the necessary tools if only I would take a leap of faith,
that I have been destined to make this world special,
You were so sure that I almost believed you,
Your vision of me, you belief in me and my abilities
more than I credit myself in my fantasies,
and you asked me to trust you, that it is a possibility.

Here I am today, Senses of Me up and running,
One hundred and fifty one post and more coming,
more than four thousand hits and still counting,
visitors from the world over and still expanding,
You are still there, helping, directing and motivating,
correcting, praising, reading, and sharing,
So today this post is for You, I want to say thank you,
for everything, for helping me never to fall short in my potential,
for reminding me of the person I used to want to become,
the person that I am and the person I have to be, for me,
Thank you for inspiring and giving birth to Senses of Me. 

Pic For The Day: WOW

I am tempted to put a caption to this moment, but I will leave each to their own take. 

Rule of a Gentleman

My Chariot

I am a princess and this is my shining chariot that I sometimes ride daily, even to work. Coz I am hardcore like that. 

My Swahili Heritage

Courtesy of Javed Jafferji

My Swahili Heritage lies in the sea,
with waves building constantly surrounding this island in mystery,
this island which holds testament to Persian traders, Portugese settlement,
this little island was famous the world over for its spices and
history of slaves, thousands of slaves passed annually
throughout the slave markets of Zanzibar,then to the hands of the British,
who gained control through the abolition of slave trade,
Zanzibar became a protectorate and not a colony,
with traditional viziers appointed to govern as puppets,
switching to a system of British residents,
the isles finally gained independence from Britain,
then a revolution to oust the Indians and the Arabs that ruled us,
my Swahili heritage lies in the perseverance and courage of 1964.
Tanganyika the former colony consumed this island to form a union,
and became known as Tanzania. Welcome to the Spice Islands.

My Swahili heritage lies in the simplicity, in the poverty,
in ukuti and rede and games played in the heat of the afternoon,
in the people of Zanzibar who are a mixture of many ethnic backgrounds,
indicative of the colorful history coupled with a rhythmic language,
Swahili - meaning coast, a language spoken extensively ,
in Zanzibar it exists in its pure form, as this is the birthplace.
My Swahili heritage lies in the important architectural features in Stone Town ,
a world heritage sight bearing testament to the richness of history in Zanzibar,
a panoramic view including the Livingstone House,
The Old Dispensary of Zanzibar, The Old Fort of Zanzibar,
 the House of Wonders, the Hamamni Persian Baths,
are among  the few of the historical places still around in this marvelous place.
my Swahili heritage is rich in history.


My Swahili Heritage is in Fridays and Eid days, 
where women do not sleep on Eid eve, occupied with cleaning and cooking, 
in the morning men and boys don white kanzus and go pray faithfully,
the smell of food and oud lingers in the air, happy faces smiling everywhere, 

and women and girls adorn themselves with the most fabulous jewelry, 

with henna painting tattooing the arms, legs and places I can't write about, 

My heritage lies on the get together, on families visiting each other, 

houses scrubbed to invite the guests, hell you won't find beggars in the streets, 

Lunch time sees a whole family together, bickering, teasing, laughing, 

eating, drinking, gossiping over a whole year gone by since the last Eid, 

and the afternoons at the fair, children get their toys to last them a year, 

grown-ups catch up, chattering, showing off and having mighty fun. 

My Swahili heritage lies on my parents, and their parents,
they know life by the way it feels, they know about all the winds,
all the catch for the day needed to keep a household happy,
my heritage lies in songs, songs sang with a unique tune
borrowed from other forms to give birth to a new melody,
taarab - my heritage lies in innovations, in customs, in culture,
in traditions deeply embedded into my subconscious,
my parents know life by the way it feels and they are
positive that the Lord will never overlook us when
He hands down his graces, so I pray to Him five times a day,
and do my best to never displease Him, so he can shower my life with fulfillment.

My Swahili heritage dictates that before I get married, 

wise married women have to sit me down, share with me their wisdom,
that comes from age and experience, paint for me the wonders of bedroom pleasure
and nooks as well as all the tricks in the books. 

That he is my king and I but a servant in his kingdom, 
kneel and heed, clean and sleep, cook, serve and persevere,
and give and give and just give to his ultimate fulfillment-
They sit me down and talk to me of the ways I am to dish out to my
significant other, even paint vivid pictures of how I should bed him,
giving name, purpose and definition to every position, all the while
whispering in my ear of how He would enjoy me- his woman, 

my Swahili heritage is rich in imagery and mystery. 

I can't think of the my heritage with only fond memories, 
the substance of a  woman  I am today is full of pessimistic views, 
I want to know my Swahili Heritage of today, forget the old, how about the new?
I want to ignore the past for a moment and bask in
complete knowledge on how life truly is today in the isles, 

the heritage of the present that I will pass down to my kids, 

Will it just be the extortion I call living made possible the suffering 

of those before me? They call it tourism, I say otherwise. 

We sell tickets to foreigners to come and experience our history, 

our culture, our traditions, our suffering, our Swahili Heritage, 

and they pay good money to be transported back through the ages, 

and turn a blind eye to the crumbling economy, and
that in more than forty years of freedom we have very little to show for it. 

My Heritage now is crumbling, we parade it to foreigners 

and inwardly resenting it, choosing to be like everyone else, 

I will chose jeans over a khanga any given day, 

Can we really be this naïve or is it narrow minded or maybe short
sited, whatever it is, we are doomed, this is suppose to be a Heritage that
will last a life time through, a lesson to learn from the past and move on , 
to create new possibilities, to uphold our morality, 
and  know when to put the blinds down, when to open 
the umbrella and where or when to ride the storm, 
but I sit here, blanketed by my Swahili heritage I am silent, 
I want to change things but I am forced to turn my head, 
how can I complain why youths from here never want to stay,

they all go to other countries, other worlds, denouncing their 

Swahili heritage for refugee status, so they can live life better.

When I teach my daughter about my Swahili Heritage what shall I say?

With many words flowing in my mind what shall my lips whisper to her? 

Just how to place her waist so he can receive the wonders inside her?

That her heritage lies in history and vast knowledge of the ghetto kamasutra?
As I sit her down and talk to her about life's journey, 
I want her to embrace her Swahili Heritage and do more,

together we will do the unexpected and try to even out the score, 

We will take out the manifesto of our ancestors and read it together, 
and where the book ends, we will put a new heritage in the blank pages,
We will make this life better, by never taking for granted the freedom 
out ancestors died for,

We will stop having a big complex about how the world did us wrong 

and sit around waiting for an apology, 

We will sit down and share my experience about how to keep a marriage alive, 

never invading her innocence on the pretense of preparing her for whats to come. 

Our Swahili heritage will be that of gratitude, of being world class destination, 
explore and learn all about this wonderful nation,
We will fumble, fall and learn all by ourselves, find the pace that best suit us, 
is life not a learning process and are we not a work in progress- 
Alas! I pray there will be a day when culture, heritage and custom move
beyond the reminiscent of  history and travel up to the mind. 
Create a specimen of children that would be used as a point of reference, 
the only thing we have now is the priceless,
memoirs, chronicles, revolutions, slavery,  and times past, 
Lets continue this Heritage where the present marries the past. 
To form one happy union of harmony, understanding, and tinge of misconceptions of 
Our Swahili Heritage. 

Honey, I am Sorry

I could not take the anticipation any longer, I waited for weeks for this moment, she was always flagging my advances, enjoying the hunger printed all over my face, toying with my emotions, my manhood throbbing demanding release, and she always said NO. Until today that is - Finally. Today is that day when I have won her over and brought her home with me. In my mind I was devouring her, ripping off her dress that clung tightly to her  curvaceous body and taking her right there, on the living room floor - but that might piss her off and like a butterfly flutter off so I start with an elaborate foreplay. As I was slowly undressing her, inhaling her scent, deep into my lungs, my lips frantically searching hers and when I found them, her resistance broken, reaching in and yielding her very soul to that kiss, I was a lost man, swimming in the moment, enjoying the sensations rippling in my body, tingling to my nerve ends. Breathing deeply and quietly giving a soft command to my trapped manhood to lay low, and it was only a matter of time before he can enter into the promised land. 

Lost in the magic of her embrace I heard a sound that I couldn't quite place nor comprehend, and suddenly a piercing scream sounded in the room jolting me to a harsh reality and breaking free of the woman holding me. My wife, standing there shaking, indignation, disbelief, anger, fear, hatred and so many emotions flitting in and out of her face that I could not read not them fast enough. The groceries scattered on the floor, and tears were slowly mapping rivers on her beautiful face. My mind went frantic, what the hell is going on. She wasn't supposed to be here, she was supposed to be in a business trip to be back next week. What is she doing here, do I run out or run her out - both are not options because she lives here too. 

My wife started breathing slowly as took in the scene, she composed herself, kicking off her prada shoes and setting down her chanel handbag on the couch,  a whiff of her paco robane million dollar lady scent wafting towards me. She slowly picked up her groceries, put them back in their bags and slowly put them inside. Her face was an inscrutable mask now as she slowly found her way into the kitchen to make herself a stiff drink. 

Seeing the window of opportunity, I quickly ushered the woman outside and gave her money for a cab and softly close the door behind me. Leaning into it, needing the support offered by the heavy oak door, breathing deeply, as I slowly turn around...I find her sitting down cross legged, sophisticated and poised as ever, and she pointed for me to sit down too. 

Instantly my alarm system started rocketing off, screaming at me run for my life. I would take a yelling, swearing, crying lady anytime over this calm calculated woman sitting before me. I shrunk to the size of an aspirin, and finally she spoke to me,

"I have only one question for you, why?"

That was a very difficult question she posed, knowing my wife, what she meant was, "why would you cheat on my, why her, why in our home, why would you hurt me like this, what have I ever done to deserve you to do me wrong like this" And I knew in my heart of hearts, that no matter what I said, there is no correct response that will wipe away the trace of the memory of seeing me locked in her embrace, nothing I will say will make her understand my betrayal, no million words I can ever say to properly answer her single "why". Hell even I don't know why. So should I just tell her that I was just being an average piece of shit, not thinking with my head but with my dick??? Nah she is too smart for that, countless of times she told me, IF I ever tire of her I should tell her, she is always insisting on communication to tell her how she makes me feel, and she told me, if I ever really needed to cheat, can I please have the decency to find a better woman than her?? (okay, she was joking but she probably meant it!!)  All these thoughts were taunting me, and words failed me as I tried to speak. 

She continued, "I am waiting, I have all day..."

I didn't know what to say. Can she handle the truth? That its partly her fault and partly mine. She is never home, always busy trying to reach for her dreams, trying to make more money, to be empowered, she has to work hard to be able to afford the expensive things she wants for herself. Because even though we are together I can't seem to ever give her enough, she always wants more and more is expensive. How can I tell her she has changed so much that I don't know the woman sitting before me, the woman I first fell in love with feels like a figment of my imagination. How can I tell her while she is striving to be equal to a man, she is not being a woman doing womanly things to her man, like cook for me, clean for me, make love to me at demand, dress to impress me, you know the things she used to do when we were in our honeymoon phase. She reads too many of those glossy magazines that seem to undermine her confidence and no matter what I say she never believes me. How can I tell her that she makes me feel like I am not enough for her anymore. Yet how can I justify trying to fill the void in our relationship by a momentary high gained by being with that other woman? How can she understand that I just wanted to feel something new? Or that I wanted to feel like a man, a real man. Will she believe me if I tell her I never meant to hurt her, that my mind hadn't even conjured up the possibility that I might get caught and I would be in this situation.

The only words that managed to escape my lips were, "Honey, I am very sorry..." 

Music From Broken Chords

This tune is emanating from my soul, is beautiful, beautiful, soulful, rhythmic, hopeful, faithful. It makes you stop, it makes you think. It makes you remember. It makes you forget. This music warms every heart it touches, tickles all the senses and gives imagination wings to soar. This music is mine, orchestrated my fumbling emotions as they seek a way to express feelings into tunes, thoughts into words, words into poetry, poetry into song. This song is about happiness, struggle, tribulation, coupled with lines about sorrow, strength and unyielding will with the bridge of reality persisting to break this song but its music is untouchable. So my instrument gets broken, and I still wield music from the broken chords. 

This music is about daily struggle, the mundane rituals of cleaning, of working, of helping, of listening, of crying, of believing, of lying, of defeating, of trying. Its about being beaten to a pulp by the bully and still finding strength to get up, trying to find the strength to speak up, strength to grow up into nothing like the forces that are determined to drag us down. To grow up into nothing like the leaders who abuse the power we gave them, to be nothing like the society which never accepts you, to be nothing like the family who are not welcoming of your uniqueness, you abilities, dreams and ambitions. 

Write your own music, you are worth the verse, any music - about a boy, about a woman, about politics, about a mother, about hardships and struggles, about hard work and perseverance, about opportunities and success. All this music and songs are flowing inside us like the blood in our arteries. Find your own music, your own song. I am trying to put words into my music, tuning every thought to flow into this keyboard. 

This music isn't about fame, it is not about popular belief, this is not a trending topic, it is not comfortable. Continue practicing turning your head from suffering, from the beggars and the poor, the downtrodden on the floors, the hungry in beautiful clothes, the sadness in majestic homes - nah that ignorance is blissful. This music falls on deaf ears of  senses long ago de-senticised, feelings locked away, humanity depraved, and anarchy and disorder at reign. 

Those who can craft their own tune given birth by their daily struggles; soulful music full of sorrow, happy music dancing with joy, rhythmic music about the strife, ballistic music about death, and all beautiful music take away your breath. Inside each of us is a beat, from a faithful heart, steady breathing from our lungs and silenced voices straining to be heard. Our bodies, our instruments are broken, but believe me when I tell you, you can wield music from your broken chords. 

My Pic For The Day!!!

A Good Wife, Mother and Friend

I may seem to have no existence apart from through my husband,
I may seem to spend all my time ensuring that he is comfortable,
fed and sexually satisfied, or that maybe I have given up my own ambitions,
or maybe sacrificed my own career so as to be more available to him,
what is wrong with the satisfaction of being a good wife,
for trying to do everything I can for my man?
What is wrong with trying to be a good mother,
for trying to do everything I can for my children?

You may belittle the day to day routine of looking after a home,
the responsibility of motherhood and raising children,
How do you call me nowadays? Just a stay at home mom.
Like there is no easier job in the world than mine.
Try to make that child clean his/her room like you ask them to,
or make them give up their playtime so they can pick the clothes off the floor,
I am just a caregiver, with no breaks, I work full time,
sometime mundane, and depressing work, like cleaning the toilets,
picking up after grown men who misplace ties, food and documents.

My children think I am superwoman, that there is nothing in the world
I cannot do, I used to think that was a childish dream,
but guess what they are right!
I am learning how much patient I am through their endless trials,
how I can accurately time the dinner,laundry, mopping and homework time,
they teach me to practice what I preach and to watch my tongue,
because they quote word to word everything that I shouldn't have said,
they make me understand me beliefs more,
as I try to explain them by answering their many questions,
If I were to quit being a stay at home mom you would need
a few people to fill the void I would leave behind:
a maid, a nurse, a teacher, and a friend.

So, I am content in the heavenly place that I create,
my husband, children knowing exactly what to expect,
I may not know how to be a successful CEO,
but I know to untangle the Christmas lights and where is the lost yo-yo,
It takes hands to build a house but only hearts can build a home,
This home I am a part of is a shelter of storms - all sorts of storms,
That place where you grow up dreaming of leaving it,
and when you grow older you want to move back into it,
the place where when you have to go there they have to take you in,
Between the job, money, fame, success, can you say the same?
That they will always be there when you need a helping hand?

A Lil Trivia

Take Me As I am

Another day has dawned, another twenty four hours of condemnation,
another trial for failure, another denunciation by my society,
another attempt at redemption, another toss away roaming the streets,
another misfit wandering alone, another black sheep in the family,
another rejection by my father, another guilty verdict before i try,
another dejection, gloom, misery worn by my mother,
another soulless cry, another empty body starting to quiver,
another day to find a reason for existing, for living, for breathing.

All I get is abuse, the existence of a hunted man,
unappreciated and misunderstood is the order of the day for me,
I am not a bad person, I am as human as you are,
subjected to less than human treatment by others in my creed,
I used to have friends, used to have a real family,
used to have a mother's embrace and a father's stern nod,
I used to belong in this society, upfront and centre, I used to have kids,
I got caught up in the fast lane, now I steal just enough so I can get my next fix.

I tried to change this, tried to be different, tried to be better,
I have been bailed out of jail, just long enough until the police lock me back in,
I have tried to kick the habit just long enough until the dealer always tracks me down,
I have gone to rehab, but I crave the drugs as sunflowers face the sun,
I have tried to be a better person, a better woman, yet my children abandon me,
So I take what I need, nothing more nothing less so I can have reasons to exist,
I am weary and tired of responsibilities, being sober sucks more than addiction,
No matter what I do, I will never be good enough, so why try to be someone else,
I don't see how I can be any differently than what I am.  

Mr. Politician Misunderstood

Power, yes power, real power, your own power, powerlessness,
power-hungry, fear of power - curiously enough the word power
has unpleasant associations in our minds.
We think of power hungry politicians and their destructiveness,
exploitation and manipulation of others.
We associate power with our leaders whom we deem to be
selfish, egotistical and uncaring of others.
So much that some people think that politicians are like diapers,
they should be changed frequently and for the same reason.

See under democracy one party devotes its energies in proving
that the other party is unfit to rule - and they are both right.
So much so that now it is a widespread world phenomenon that,
politics is a cross between popularity contests and high school debates!!
Politics shall forever remain to be the gentle art of getting the votes from the poor
and the campaign funds from the rich; by promising to protect each from the other.
And political language? It is designed to make lies sound truthful,
and if voting actually changed anything, they'd make it illegal.

You gotta give it to a man who promises to build you a bridge,
even when there is no river.
See politics is the art of looking for trouble,
finding whether it exists or not and applying a totally wrong remedy for it.
Otherwise how can you explain the winners?
how do they win without proving that they are unworthy of winning?
Then the bad officials are elected by good citizens who do not vote; and
Once we take responsibility for our in-actions the whole ball game changes,
If all politicians are bad, and we'd all like to vote for the best man;
then why is he is never the candidate in the stands?

If we looked at our leaders and gave them the respect they deserve,
If we started to be responsible for our own lives and the mess we create,
If we upheld all the small changes the politicians actually generate,
If we were to pay more attention of all the legislations passed,
If we sculpted our children to be better men and women who ever walked this earth,
If we stopped living in the past and constantly comparing them to dead heroes,
If we as a nation stopped being like tigers with a mistaken idea that we are sheep,
then we will realise that Mr. Politician is misunderstood and deeply weeps,
of the heavy burden he is carrying and condemned for mistakes he never committed,
for if one man could change the system , you could too and why don't you?
So please give Mr. Politician a break, he is doing all he knows how to.

Celebrating L.I.F.E!!!

I am not my mother, I do not have her thoughts and feelings
I am not my father, I do not have his thoughts and feelings,
I am not my teachers, I do not limit myself to what they taught me,
I am not my friends, I will not pretend to understand all they share with me,
I am not limited by my early religious education, I found God in my own time,
I am not here to perfect or meet others expectations, I have my own light to shine,
I don't need to drive myself, everything happens as it should
I don't fear a thing, I am capable of coping with each situation as it unfolds.

I am the centre of my world, I have every right to be here as anybody else
I have total confidence in my own abilities, I have the power to create what I will for myself
I deserve to experience satisfation in my own life, I now settle for what I want not just what I can get. 

I value who I am and what I have to give,  I am an attractive, successful, intuitive, loving and
creative human being, feeling good about myself feels totally safe
I am good, I always get enough, hell I am enough, everything I touch is a success

Because I love myself;
I nourish my body with good food, sleep and exercise,
I provide myself with good experiences,
I create a graceful living space for myself
I love and approve of my body and do only what I enjoy doing,
I allow myself to relax when I need to there is no limit to how good I can feel
I love and approve of myself every moment, I trust myself to be spontaneous and free

Life is good and it gets better everyday
I deserve the best of everything, simply for who I am
I forgive everybody whom I mistakenly thought tried to hurt me
I let go of all limiting or negative ideas that create negative effects in my life
I let go of all resentments, grief and guilt because I am divinely protected
I am grateful for the miracles that happen every day
My future is bright, safe, healthy, prosperous and loving.

God wants me to be happy, and if I surrender to the will of God
I truly believe that the will of God will not take me
where the Grace of God cannot protect me
Because God wants me to be happy;
I accept myself totally from today on, Just as I am
I feel gratitude for my life and for my many blessings,
I am free to live my life as I choose
Whatever we do has a ripple effect, whether win or lose,
we are all part of a Whole, the Universe,
and when we celebrate being alive, the whole existence celebrates with us.

a shadow...a gurl..a woman...

The shadow has no face, she is every 
revlon model that women have chased,
the shadow whispers that sex is survival of the thinnest 
its a mainstreaming that doesn't serve our best interests,
tell you you are ugly, tell you how you aint pristine, 
and then go round telling you how to fix it with Maybelline. 


The shadow stalks the gurl, drinking in her innocence, 
This gurl trembling before each new day,  
this gurl trembling and afraid with each sunrise, 
this gurl who finds the cloak woman too heavy to don most days, 
this gurl trying to tread on her dreams when the water feels low, 
with the shadow at her heels, ebbing her purity and disrupting the flow, 
into woman hood, she enters it with her head bowed. 


Young gurl I want you to know me, to hear me, 
to know me in moments like this, moments of reflections, 
moments of acceptance, and moments of celebration. 
You should never put your heart in mind's position, 
Gurl, you should hold womanhood in a high esteem 
you deserve to wear the monarch like banner, 
because it carries easy like sun in summer.
I am a woman and I enjoy it, try it sometime, 
disentangle your gurl from the shadow and see
how brightly she shines.  

The Value of A Smile

It costs nothing but creates much. It enriches those who receive, without improvishing those who give. It happens in a flash and sometimes the memory of it stays forever. None are so rich that they can get along without it, and none so poor but are richer for its benefits. It creates happiness in the home, fosters good will in a business, and is a countersign of friends. It is rest to the weary, daylight to the discouraged, sunshine to the sad, and Nature's best antidote fee trouble. Yet it cannot be bought, begged borrowed or stolen, for it is something that no earthly good to anybody till it is given away. So in your rush through the journey of your life, should you run into people too tired to give you a smile, may I ask you to leave one of yours? For nobody needs a smile so much as those who have none left to give!

Be My Own Best Friend

Everywhere I go I see groups of people,  friends,
fake friends, frenemies, best friends, needy friends,  BFFs,
I see happy friends everywhere and I used to ask myself
what do I have to do to get friends right here? real friends
and now it has become what do I have to do to get friends?
I am alone, with myself, confident wallowing in my thoughts,
I am not lonely, All my best friends are at different corners of the world,
that is the price I still have to pay - for going to the best schools,
for going to international schools, because I sort my friends
by continents, and I have five best friends in different countries,
I know the geography of the rest of the world better than
I know the geography of the place I now call home.

Now I am back home,  fatigued from trying to meet new friends,
to get that initial hello, to find people who will stimulate my mind,
friends I will want to hang out with, be with - you know like things friends do,
I am tired of being broken, of hoping for my trials to be different next time
Afraid of appearing too desperate, seeming all put together,
while inside consumed of being alone, never fitting in.
no longer will I try to be at the mercy for people to like me,
no longer will I be at the mercy of needing others approval,
all that is finished, completed, finito - from now on,
I am going to be my own best friend.

I already talk to myself so I know my conversations pretty well,
I always say its nice to have friends who are like me in a way,
who understand me, accept me, don't judge me, and there is no
other person who is more like me than me. No person who knows
my thoughts more than me, understands my emotions more than me,
there is nothing that says that I cannot be my own best friend,
why have I not thought of this before? I amaze myself sometimes,
play games with myself , no one to impress but myself , no one to
encourage but myself, cry to myself, support myself,
lie to myself because I hate to hurt myself's feelings,
like how skinny I am and how God took more time and
special care when He was creating me - I am one of his favourite.

Surely if I am only my own best friend then that is selfish,
I can only be there for someone else when I can be there for me,
my first job is to make myself happy only then can i make
someone else happier, I am not doing this to be anti-social,
or to hurt anyone's feelings, or to brag about how weird and special I am,
I am only trying to look out for myself's best interests,
I am planning to be my own best friend till the very end,
...or...at least until i meet someone new or y'all come back.

Rule of A Lady

My Favourite Disney Princess: MULAN!!!

"The Emperor of China: I've heard a great deal about you, Fa Mulan. You stole your father's armor, ran away from home, impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Chinese Army, destroyed my palace and...you have saved us all. "

 "When will my reflection show, who I am inside.."

...a lil princess trivia...

What If???

Just Because

Just because I don't care, 

doesn't mean I don't understand.

Just because I laugh a lot, 

does not mean that my life is easy, 

Just because I have a smile 

on my face everyday doesn't mean 

that something is not bothering me.

Just because I haven't talked to you, 

doesn't mean that you are not on my mind.

Just because I failed on one thing, 

doesn't mean I will fail in everything. 

Just because no one saw it, 

doesn't mean it didn't happen. 

Just because things aren't good now, 

doesn't mean they will always be that way. 

Just because this isn't a fairy tale world, 

doesn't mean I can't have a happily ever after. 

I just choose to move and not dwell, 

on all the negative shit in my life.

It's just because I can, therefore I should. 

I am craving this on this cold-ish day

My Sub-Personalities

There is a meeting convening in my head, of all the different aspects,
of me the ones I love and those I dread,
I try to quiet them and to please listen ,
to not all speak randomly but at least three at a time,
I can conjure the energy to understand the words
that they thrash at me all demanding my attention and time,
I have ignored them long enough and if I am not careful,
they will rise to the surface to demand a safe refuge,
to be maddeningly weird, distorted and whole.

I still l have a part of me that is innocent, vulnerable trusting and fresh,
capable of intimacy, spontaneity, love and warmth,
it is my capacity to go on learning, to experience a sense of wonder,
it is the soft centre in each of us, most intimate and sensitive core,
the part of us that feels; The Inner child - remains with us all our lives,
most us hide it from the outer world because it is vulnerable and easily hurt,
it is not wise in ways of the world, it wants to feel safe, loved and held,
its is not good at articulating its needs but when they are not met,
a sense of panic, loneliness, lost and confusion seep through our core,
and when our inner child feels good again, we feel good, happy and secure.

Because my Inner Child is so vulnerable and not good at coping with the world,
I, like you, have developed an the Inner parent to protect and control.
A part of me that  is an introjection of all authority figures who have influenced me,
in the past,  parents, teachers, clergy and anyone who kept me safe
It is our inner parent who makes us look both ways before crossing the street,
we continue living the rules enforced in us, and we need them to survive,
if our inner parent is too controlling, we become too over protected,
inhibited in expressing ourselves freely, we become rigid in personality,
we narrow our own needs to live up to expectations and  to conform
still trying to please people who are no longer with us.
When I address the feeling of my need to control I found fear,
fear, paranoia and guilt of wanting to be in touch with my own power

We have all learnt to please our inner parent, inner child to feel okay,
the need to please others in order to feel loved is,
a full time job, needing others approval, to meet expectations,
of our early authority figures, girlfriends, boyfriends, spouses and employers.
My desperation to be liked drains my energy, needing to sell myself short.
I am being manipulated by my inner pleaser, because of pent up anger,
because I cannot ask for what I want, frustration gives more room
for the the critic to maneuver and wallow in my despair and gloom,
My inner critic has the most power  to wreck my peace of mind,
an inner voice that makes me feel bad about everything,
its quite sadistic and always nagging about my shortcomings.

If you like me have the bad luck of having a perfectionist critic,
you can never give yourself credit. Its voice is instantly recognizable -
it is harsh, judgmental, always telling you what is wrong with you,
and how you should be, it can be relentless and there is no way
you can ever satisfy your won critic's demands, we drive ourselves
to exhaustion to attain those demands that we put on ourselves.
Until I get the message that I am perfectly imperfect,
until I can put all my little voices in check,
until I can enter in dialogue, to get to know them intimately,
why they are there, what they want from me - I can never be free.
if I listen to myself and observe myself in action a pattern so clear emerges,
I developed these parts of me to survive, I need to reduce their energy,
and take the reins back in my own hands. 

My Joy Cannot Be Contained

My joy has no need to be approved by anyone, 
No need to be understood coz its for me alone, 
Believe you me, My joy cannot be contained. 


My joy has no need for laughter at bad jokes, 
No need for secrets to be continually foretold,
Whatever you do, My joy cannot be contained. 


My joy has no need for forgotten promises, 
No need for hugs to impress anyone in its embrace, 
It wants to jump loudly, My joy cannot be contained. 


My joy cannot be denied as it sits on my
favorite chair, it can stay as long as it wants, 
Coz even if you tried, My joy cannot be contained. 


This joy is close to my heart, warming it, 
needing to engulf all other senses, drowning them, 
Then it shows in every pore that My joy cannot be contained. 


My joy is never going to be far from me again, 
I want to wear it to the surface, a crown on a goddess, 
Please do not bother, My joy cannot be contained. 


My joy is cascading in my body like a tidal wave, 
overriding all other modes, tranquilizing my senses, 
This is just the way I want it - My joy to never be contained. 

When I Grow Up

I know that IF and only If...

if I can surrender to the wave, I can ride it,

if I am serene in a storm, I can go through it.

and if I can face the sun, I can ignite it. 

When I grow up I still want to, 

be friends with my best friend,

and that awesome adult that her kids love.

When I grow up I want to,

remain at the core as a better version of 

myself when I was younger.

When I grow up I want to, 

be kinder to myself for all the mistakes, 

to be happy in my being with all my defects.  

When I grow up I want to, 

listen more and talk less, understand more

 and judge less, love more and complain less. 

When I finally grow up I want to, 

be myself, an original version of me, 

not a second rate version of anyone else. 

My Pic for the Day

My All-Time Favorite Stance for A Kiss!!!

Putting This Up in My HOME!!!

Forgive me Lord

I fall too fast, crash too hard, I scream so much and speak too loud

I give too easy, care too much, and sometimes I am too proud,  

I act too rash, react to fast, I complain too much and I pray just barely, 

Dear Lord, can You please forgive me even when I am not sorry? 

Dear Lord, why is it easier to forgive an enemy than a friend?

can I ever really forgive them if I can't forget their crime?

Memoirs of resentment, retaliant, revenge poisoning me inside

Lord, You want me to forgive them if they are not not sorry?

 Dear Lord, please teach that once I have forgiven my man,

I should not heat his sins for breakfast in the microwave oven,

Forgive me for not knowing how to love him as I should,

Lord, if I could forgive all the people who wronged me i would.

It's not just the other people that I have to forgive my Lord,

Please teach me how to forgive myself, for things I din't do

and things I should have done well. 

So that as I forgive others; You may exonerate me as well.

Those I injure and cannot be compensated when I incur your wrath, 

I need to be healed because when I displease you its me I hurt,

If i kneel before you my Lord, I can stand before any man, 

Dear Lord, please forgive me - for everything I have or haven't done. 

Its been 3,000 hits!!!!!

"I am deeply humbled. To all those who read my posts, I give you thanks from the bottom of my heart.  To my members you are the best. To those who constantly read and comment on the writing, I owe you big. To ALL, thanks for the support. " 

My Prayer

The story of my life is a diary, love, anger, bewildered, 

where I mean to write one thing but I write another,

I rise every morning with the desire to improve the world 

and a desire to enjoy the world; it's hard to plan the day

Everyday feels like my real life is about to begin, 

but something always gets in the way, a debt i forgot to pay, 

a problem that will not go away, I clear them so my real life can't delay, 

Not seeing that the beginning I am waiting for is the end of my days. 

Up to a point my life has been about consequences, 

my environment, my hereditary, my race, my society, 

but the time has come where I shall mold my own reality, 

No regrets about who I was yesterday, tomorrow is another destiny. 

I always build castles in the air, they tell me it's a bad thing

The way I figured is - isn't that where they should be?

All I have to do is toil to put the foundation to uphold it.

Even from the stones collected that others throw at me. 

Every evening I have to turn all my worries to Allah, 

what is the use of me fretting and missing sleep,

when He is going be up all night anyways, 

to give me the best answer for all the prayers I pray?

Maybe i don't like my job, may be i didn't get enough sleep, 

maybe i just had the worst day of my life, but there is no escape

no escape at all, i still have to be nice, get wildly enthusiastic,  

run down the stairs and bounce down in every step, 

Play in the street with the kids and stop to ride the wind.

I have to be grateful for one extra day above the ground, 

grateful for a fussing mother who loves me with all her love,  

grateful for a nagging boss because I am employed,

grateful for ungrateful siblings because to a family I belong. 

May I never be complete, may I never be content, 

may I never be your trophy, may I never be perfect, 

may I always be the hope of young girls who are desperate,

for a real woman who is letting her light shine. 

I want to tell you this, put your future in good hands - your own.