Quote of the Day

I love this quote so much, don't you? So enlightening. Hope you're all having a fabulous week! New posts to come soon since I just finished up on some midterms :)

xo

Quote of the Day

11/11/11

It's 

11/11/11!

This unique date will never come again guys, so make the most of it! (albeit it's almost over in this part of the world!)

After 12/12/12 happens next year, there wont be another date like this for a century. Who knows what'll be happening in the world by then? Don't you feel AWESOME that you're ALIVE right now? In THIS moment...witnessing such a monumental time in the history of existence??? I know I am :) 

But lets take a moment in all this excitement to remember that it's also Remembrance Day. Let us never forget the sacrifice and bravery of all the veterans from our past and the soldiers of our present. Let us never forget the courage and perseverance of their families and let us be grateful for the harsh times this world has overcome and the freedom it has gained. No country's loss and no family's tragedy is greater than any other. Every life is sacred, and even more so depending on what we make of it. So thank you. 

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Ottawa, Canada

Happy 11/11/11 everyone! 

My wish is that you all live a 100 years to be able to witness it again :)

Also...Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is out! Go buy it! No this is not sponsored, but it's definitely a promotion ;) Why else would today be such a magical day?

P.S. I posted this at 11:11pm...am I cool or what? Haha.

Libraries of the World

     Recently, one of my friends sent me a picture of a gorgeous library in Iowa, U.S.A and it blew my mind. The place looks so amazing!! I mean libraries are sanctuaries in general, but this place looked so inviting that I'm sure people would actually want to go and spend hours in there. I mean libraries are magical places. But in this technologically adept world of ours they're starting to get neglected. We're forgetting that there's just something so special about walking down halls full of physical, written work and being attracted by the history of it all. So it got me thinking about all the beautiful libraries around the world. And everyone knows how I feel about lists....et voila :) So let's go on a world tour, shall we?

Abbey Library, St. Gallen, Switzerland

Another view of
Abbey Library, St. Gallen, Switzerland

Strahov Monastery - Theological Library, Prague, Czech Republic

Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington, USA

Stiftsbibliothek Klostemeuburg, Klostemeuburg, Austria

Library of the Benedictine Monastery, Admont, Austria

Library of Congress, US

George Peabody Library, John Hopkins University,
Baltimore, MD, USA

Yale University Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library,
New Haven, CT, USA

Morgan Library and Museum, New York, USA

Jose Vasconcelos Library, Mexico City, Mexico

Inventor Jay Walker's personal library

Library of Parliament, Ottawa, Canada

Chateau de Chantilly Library, Paris, France

Trinity College Library (The Long Room), Dublin, Ireland

Suzzallo Library, University of Washington, Seattle, USA

Law Library, Iowa

A Spoonful of Honey

     "Don't forget. I'm just downstairs and I'll be back soon," I told her. 

     I walked down the stairs with dirty plates in my hands. I couldn't believe the mess this house was in. I don't think I have ever let it get this dirty. But it seemed like every time I tried to tidy something up, my life exploded into chaos again. I sighed as I dropped the dishes into the sink with a loud crash. And somewhere between turning on the tap, my mind slipped from stability and I felt a sudden wave of suffocation. 

     It was all too overwhelming. There was so much to do! The laundry had been waiting for days, the bills needed to be paid by Tuesday, all the scattered toys needed to be picked up off the family room floor, the carpet needed vacuuming, and this stupid faucet would not stop leaking.

     Drip. Drop. 

     I stared at the tap my hand was holding. There was a burst of rage burning somewhere inside my heart and it was now racing through my veins. I could feel my pulse as if it were the only sound in the room. My cheeks felt hot and numb at the same time. Why?! Why wouldn't this stupid faucet stop leaking? It was driving me insane. Why was everything around me so broken? It was as if the entire world was conspiring against my sanity. 

     Drip. Drop.

     For a moment, the sound that the droplets made as they exploded against the stainless steel sink seemed cheerful. But only for a second. And that second was enough to fuel my rage. WHY? I kept turning the tap even though it was as tight as it could be. But I kept turning it. I poured all my frustrations into the inadequacy of that small, silver tap. My hand turned pale from the exertion. 

     But nothing happened. It made no difference. After putting all my energy into turning off this dripping tap, the fact that the droplets still fell, struck me. I felt like they were mocking me. Mocking me and my failures, my attempts, my hard work. With the same speed as I had felt the anger, came the helplessness. My hands dropped to my sides and I stood there on the cold, vinyl tiled floor staring into nothing. My shoulders slacked and a different sensation started to creep up my toes. It climbed up my legs and down my arms; leaving goosebumps. It rose in my chest and rested in my throat. It was an ache. A terrible, heart-wrenching ache. The sort of ache you get when you know you should cry, but your whole body is too exhausted to follow through with it. 

     I lingered in this weird limbo for a while until it became harder and harder to breathe. And finally, hot tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over. My whole body trembled as my tears washed the pain from my heart. They streamed down my face like rivers flowing freely in the Spring after escaping barriers of ice. I cried and cried with the most silent tears I could manage. I stifled every gasp and turned on the water for good measure. With every tear, a brick was lifted off my crushed lungs. It felt like praying. It felt like I was confessing my sins.

     I cried until the ache disappeared. Then, I dipped my hands into the running water and splashed my face. You know that moment when you're underwater and you rise up and just break through the surface? It felt like that. 

     Turning off the water, I wiped my face on a paper-towel and discarded the evidence in the trash. The moment had never happened. My body moved mechanically as I washed the dirty dishes. I didn't even realize I was doing it until I was already done. Remembering why I had come downstairs in the first place, I moved to the last cupboard and took down the bottle of honey from the shelf. I pulled out a spoon from the drawer and made my way out of the kitchen. 

     I had to go back to normal, as if there had been no change in me from the moment I had left the room. I couldn't let her think there was anything wrong. Standing in front of the hallway mirror, I rearranged my face into a smile. My face gave nothing away. 

     I walked up the stairs and into her room. There was a sweater on the floor so I picked it up and placed it on the dresser. 

     "I told you I'd be back in a minute," I smiled. "And I brought you that honey you wanted."

     Our eyes met and instead of saying anything she just looked at me. Looked at me with her deep, soulful eyes. 

     "I'm going to tie up the curtains, okay?" I said, turning towards the windows. "It's so nice out today."

     She said nothing. 

     "Do you want me to take the honey out for you?" I asked her.

     Her eyes gave me that searching look once more. They tore through my shell and into my soul and I could see something change in her expression as she registered what she had examined. I started to feel uneasy. Maybe something wasn't right. She always did say a spoonful of honey is a cure for the blues. What was wrong? Why wasn't she saying anything? Oh God.

     I walked up to her as she lay in her bed and sat down beside her. And as she put her hand on top of mine, it felt like a soothing balm. The same hand that had held me all those years still comforted me with a touch. I looked at the soft wrinkles on her face, the darkening depths of her eyes, and the wisp of hair that she had tucked carefully behind her ear. I looked at her lips, the same lips that had yelled at me for not making my bed countless times and had read me bed time stories. The same lips that had smiled and felt so much laughter. I looked at her hollow cheeks that still had their faint glow of rosy pink. And as I looked at the woman that sat before me, a million versions of her flashed through my memories. I could feel the ache returning. 

     She looked at me with those tired, brown eyes and her forehead creased as she put strain on forming her words. I wanted to tell her to rest, to tell me later. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed still in the moment. 

     I watched her carefully find her voice and be slightly surprised by the sound of it, as if she had forgotten she had one. 

     "I don't want the honey," she said to me. "You do."

     How was it possible that without me saying a word, she knew about the ache in my heart? This woman who could never tell when I was lying about having done my homework or who believed that I actually liked spinach all these years, how could she know? I wanted to protest, but for some reason I didn't. It was one of those wordless understandings. And it was too precious to lose.

     So, in this heartbreaking treasure of a moment, I let the trembling hand of my sweet, beautiful mother feed me that spoonful of honey.

©AnumAziz

This story is dedicated to a strong, wonderful woman I have had the pleasure of knowing and her daughter - who loves her more than life itself. It is also dedicated to the survivors of lung cancer, the departed, and those whom they leave behind.  

Life is eternal, and love is immortal,

and death is only a horizon;

and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.

- Rossiter Worthington Raymond 

Eid Mubarak!

To all of you who celebrate it...

Eid Mubarak!

I hope you had a wonderful time filled with family, love, and food;

And that God gives you a year of blessings and happiness.

xo

Class is in session

     So here's the deal. When I was in high school there was no class I ever loved more than (surprise, surprise)...Biology. Okay I lied. The answer's obviously English. Every time I walked into the room it felt like coming home, as cheesy as that sounds. I suppose it was like what swimmers feel when they step into a pool. It's the feeling of being enveloped by familiarity. I was totally in my element. Perhaps my positive attitude towards English class is what would cause it to be my highest mark every year. And every year that I did well, I loved it even more. It was the opposite of a "vicious cycle"; it was awesome.

     But clearly, that's not the case for everyone. I have friends who dreaded English class and would become incredibly anxious whenever we were assigned an essay. I want to be humble, but I have helped many people with their thesis' or essays. The thing is, I love editing. I love creating thesis' and I feel as if it helps me improve as a writer. Believe me I HATE working on my own assignments :P, which makes no sense really, because I find myself constantly doing the same work for others. But enough of me being full of myself, let's get to the point.
     I realized that a lot of people out there don't share the same passion or awe that I do for the classics that are studied in high school English and beyond. Maybe I got lucky thanks to my fabulous and inspiring teachers.  But I know how helpless and anxious people can get when even a simple sentence is hard to form. Writing essays and understanding novels can be a really strenuous and frustrating task. I see that frustration in my siblings and even myself at times. It's sort of like the apprehension I get when having to deal with math so trust me on this...I feel for whoever finds English class difficult.
     My solution is this: In the next few weeks (if exams don't kill me) I'm going to start a series of posts dedicated to the explanation of various Shakespearean works, other popular books, and offer writing tips. You're free to comment/message me and request a certain book or concept. If I can, I will definitely try my best to help you out.

Hope you all had a good weekend!

P.S. I was supposed to be writing an essay this entire time (due tomorrow) but instead I'm here blogging about helping other people write their essays...how ironic. :P

I'm feeling wisdom-y

Look at where you are right now at this moment in life. It doesn't matter if it's a good place or a bad place. It does not matter at all.

Because you can only go up from here.

You can only go up as long as you don't look back. If you look back, you might turn around. Things from the past will start to look appetizing. They will lure you with their familiarity. You'll be tempted to stop progressing, turn around, and walk down the beaten path.

So don't look back. Because there is a reason that it's all behind you now. There's a reason that you're standing where you are. The people you left behind, the choices you made, the bad habits you grew out of, all the regrets and decisions are what led you to this spot. 

You can only go up from here.

It may look difficult and it may be hard. Maybe it had been easier before. But were you happy then? Are you happy now?

Why don't you go get this happiness? 

Why don't you do everything you need to do to be the person you want to become? You have already been the person you don't want to be. And that in itself should make your path more clear.

Follow your heart, but don't forget your brain. Your heart helps you realize what you want, but your brain makes you understand what you need. 

We all make horrible, life-changing decisions at some point. But we remain alive and things get better when we let them. When we are true to ourselves.

So remember, no matter where you stand, in success or in failure, you can only go up from here.

Merci!

Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank each one of you who takes the time to come over to my blog and read my stuff - THANK YOU! From the bottom of my heart, honestly, I truly appreciate it. When I first started this blog, I didn't think that anyone would bother visiting (aside from obligated family and friends who I planned on threatening/bribing/blackmailing into doing so). It's such an awesome feeling to see the viewer count steadly rise every day :)

You have probably guessed by now that I have an obsession with quotes so here's one that I love: "Don't ask your reader to admire your words when you want them to believe your story" - Ben Bova. I can't tell you how much each comment you write means to me, privately or publicly sent. I love criticism and advice (and obviously compliments haha) so please don't hesitate to say what you feel. 

Again, thank you so so much! Please keep visiting, commenting, and tweeting!
xo

Blessings

1. The smell of freshly cut grass

2. Winning something when you least expect it  

3. Waking up in a panic only to realize that you still have some hours of sleep left

4. Realizing you have nothing to do 

5. Diving into bed and burying yourself under the covers on a cold, winter night

6. Going to a bookstore and seeing all the endless shelves of colourful books  

7. The smell of baked bread

8. Hugs

9. Hearing your grandparents' voice

10. That flower that's somehow surviving in the lawn when every other plant has died from the cold

11. Warming your fingers around a cup of hot chocolate  

12. Fuzzy socks

13. Wordless apologies

14. Frost on an ice-cold glass of iced tea on a hot summer day

15. Meeting up with old friends only to realize the friendship is still going strong

16. Getting rid of an itch

17. When there's a false fire drill and class is cancelled

18. Siblings 

19. Hearing that special, giggly, baby-laugh

20. Buying something for someone and anticipating their happiness when they see it

21. Waking up to see everything has been covered with a soft, white blanket of snow