Wandering With Words

Random musings of a reckless soul.

I love food. And I love eating more!




But she had gone from victim to survivor. 

“When I was a kid, my only goal was to get a good education. I dreamed of attending Harvard or Stanford, and planned to become a doctor one day. I was the eldest of four daughters in a Pakistani Muslim family. We lived in Ruwais, a small town in the United Arab Emirates, where my father worked in an oil plant and my mother was a teacher. At school, I always stood out among the girls in my class—I was brash, clever, outspoken. I took pride in acing every test. When I brought home top marks, my father would celebrate by handing out sweets.

One day, when I was in Grade 10, I was in my bedroom doing math homework. My mother walked in. She told me I’d received a marriage proposal. I laughed. “Mom, what are you talking about?” I asked. She didn’t crack a smile, and I realized she was serious. “I’m only 16,” I said. 
“I’m not ready for marriage.” She told me that I was lucky. The offer came from a nice man who lived in Canada. He was 28 years old and worked in IT. His sister was a friend of hers. The woman thought I’d make a perfect match for her brother—I was very tall, and he was six foot two. “They’re going to look so great together in pictures,” she had said to my mother.”


Illustration XI



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The sparkled sea.

“As the sea swallowed the sun once more, a tear fell from her eye and dissolved into the sand beneath us.
“What is it, why the tears?”, I asked 
and with a smile that nearly leaped across her cheeks,
she answered: “Here comes the moon.”

I knew that moment that it is and always will be the simple things that plant the most phenomenal truths inside us.”

– Christopher Poindexter