Saying Goodbye to Conformity

I no longer feel numb,

Because the waves are dancing,
and crashing into the shores,

Robins are chirping sweet melodies,
songs that I cannot ignore,

Bliss is a high mountain,
and I'm at its ultimate peek,

I can now love myself,
conformity I no longer seek,

The floras spread their scent,
while smiling up at the sky,

The ships are sailing, and arms are flailing,
it's time to say goodbye,

I can now love myself,
conformity was a foolish ally.

Ummah (Mother)

Hello there.
This is my first blog,(yay!)
Well, I am going to post my most recent piece. Let me know what you think. Enjoy.

Ummah

For the first time in a long time, the sun shone brightly with a wide smile on its face. The sky was pure and looked azure as the white pasty clouds slow danced in it. The trees’ leaves swayed with the wind in harmony, piano and violin. It was Mother’s Day. I know it would sound cheesy to say such a thing, but it was definitely true, “love was in the air.” I was never a daughter that showed her emotions, I loved my mother and I expected her to know so. But today was an exception and every daughter and son were expected to show their devotion.

After two hours of hard thinking, I finally got a great idea. I could feel the light bulb above my head twitch. I decided I would make my mother a gift, since handmade presents seemed much closer to the heart. I asked Aunt Lara if she would let me work in her workshop for a couple of hours, just until I would finish working on my little secret. All that looked familiar in Aunt Lara’s workshop were three pieces of cut out glass, three wooden frames, another piece of wood, and some untouched plastic bottles of paint. Although I was not so sure of my next step, I started drawing on the pieces of glass with black paint. About an hour later, I started painting the pieces of glass with different colors. On the first piece of glass, I painted the first two flowers with pink, to show the ecstatic happiness I felt with mother’s presence. On the second piece of glass, I painted the first flower blue, to show mother her deep and calm understanding, and I painted the second flower violet, which represented the admiration I felt towards her. On the third piece of glass, I painted the two flowers with white, to show mother how beautiful she was. Her beauty was undeniable, I loved the way her thick eyelashes looked, the way light reflected on her pallid skin, and the way her beautiful lips smiled. Oh, how I worshiped that smile! When she flawlessly drew it on her face it was too hard to look away. After waiting for the pieces of glass to dry, I placed them in their frames and stuck them side by side on the edges of a blank piece of wood. On the fourth empty side, I carved the word “light,” for that was what my mother was. But of course, mother should never know about this. She should interpret the gift on her own, I am not fond of showing my feelings. Finally, I placed a candle in the middle of the piece of wood, so whenever the candle would burn, the colors would shine through sending rays of colorful glitter filling the whole room. That was pretty much what mother was to my life, colorful rays of glitter. When I was done, I stared at my clothes and giggled. They were stained with paint, but there was no need to get mad because I had accomplished something great. I walked out of the workshop carefully like I was holding one of mother’s precious chinaware, something I would rather die for than watch break. As I passed by the backyards, a football came from over the fence, soaring and then descending from the sky, aiming at me. I hit the ground with a thud.

“Are you okay Maya? Should I call someone for help?!” said my neighbor, Yusuf. His voice was so close yet so far away. The only thing that opened my eyes was the piercing sunlight that reflected from the broken pieces of glass. The gift looked awful while it lay next to me on the ground, I hoped it would fix itself by the time I got to my senses and stood up. I got up and rage was filling my eyes. “Look at what you’ve done, you idiot!” I yelled. All the hours of hard work, and all the fantasies of how mother’s face would look like when she received her gift, all was forever gone. He tried to apologize but I had to leave because there was too much damage done, the gift was broken and so was I. I gathered whatever was left of my wrecked present and went home. When I walked into the house mother was humming along with a song playing on Mazzika Channel. “Hello there sweetheart! How was your day?” she said smiling. This smile was unlike any other smile, mother's smile shone through the kitchen. However, that lovely smile was not enough to get me out of my misery. A moment later, a look of worry appeared on her face. I could feel her face expression changing, although I was staring at the cold ground. “What happened, darling?” she asked, with her honey sweet voice oozing concern from her throat. I got déjà vu, this was the same question she had asked me the first time I failed an exam in fourth grade. I probably remembered it because I felt the same - so little and so disappointing. “Well, uh, I wanted to make you a gift, and then… Yusuf,” I grimaced. “and then it b…b-broke.” I tried to make sense of what I was saying, but my words were lost and suddenly we were playing a game of hide and seek. Unexpectedly, the lyrics of a song playing on Mazzika caught me off guard. Everything muted, the dripping sink, the sound of the boiling pot of stuffed vine leaves, the working washing machine, and mother speaking. Nothing was heard but the artist’s words. I was too taken away to think of whether it was his voice that was beautiful or whether his words made it that way. I listened as he sang,

“ And now it’s too late

Forgive me

Now I’m alone and filled with so much shame

For all the years I caused you pain

If only I could sleep in your arms again

Mother I’m lost without you

You were the sun that brightened my day

Now who’s going to wipe my tears away

If only I knew what I know today

Mother I’m lost without you.”

I started hyperventilating, too much blood was racing through my veins. My heart skipped many beats and I felt like it would explode out of my body. I felt a sudden urge to cry. I felt pathetic. How could I have done something so foolish? I’ve been hiding my feelings for far too long, all the time of the world would not be enough to replace the time I had lost. All those hours of quietness, of silenced love. I fell to my knees and burst into tears as I wept, “Oh! Ummah,” it felt so much better calling for mother in Arabic. “I am so sorry! I have just realized how much I love you, a love that has no boundaries. You are the first and last woman of my life.” That was how Mother’s Day ended. I lay in my mother’s arms sobbing, as we both sat on the frozen kitchen floor. But I was glad to let it all out, for those were tears of joy.