Wandering With Words

Random musings of a reckless soul.


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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.”

http://torontolife.com/city/life/forced-marriage-samra-zafar/


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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