On My Way

I will need inspiration, tenacity and buckets of encouragement. Just when my life seemed to have been running on a smooth, chartered course I have placed a challenge before myself. I do not know why one day I woke up and started to rummage through my cupboards looking for my transcripts. I found only half the proof of my education and headed out the door to fight for the other half. It seems I have won this battle for a reason. I have been given my degree and it seems life now says to me, "here you go stubborn ass now what will you do?"
So I am on a quest again. I have chosen to sit for my Masters in English this year. To some this means something they did and got over with a long time ago. To me it means I get to tell my grandchildren stories from Shakespeare, read to them Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and warn them of the pitfalls of being so full of yourself that you sell your soul to the devil. I get to put on my resume that I know what I am talking about when I stand before a class of expectant teenagers waiting to hear a story. I do not know if it will lead to me becoming an author some day but it sure as hell keeps me going each day. I not just turn the pages of Milton's Paradise Lost I lose myself in the words of these Greats and bathe myself in their knowledge knowing that I grow every day every way.
It can come to you at any age this thirst for learning. This is my Renaissance. A time to stand tall and prove to all those teachers who judged my carefree attitude as a youngster. I'm on my way to striving again, I'm struggling, teasing my brain cells and loving each second of it. So here's to Mr Bacon, Dryden, Shaw, Bunyan, Donne, Marlowe, Jonson, Pope, Wordsworth and so many others that now accompany me on my journey to self discovery.

The bicycle

Dedicated to Baqar, the 11 year old who made the mistake of going to the market when the devil paid a visit to Abbas Town

It was a Sunday
Preparing for school
Doing homework
Playing with neighbors
Suddenly I wanted chips
The ones Ahmed bhai fries
Each evening.
The smell beckoned,
With a pocket full of jingling coins
I ran down to get me a box
Of those sizzling, spicy fries.
Suddenly there were flames
On my shirt
In my hair
I thought to myself
How cool, I'm ablaze
But it started to hurt
So I lay down
I saw my home had been blown
Like a faceless monster
With gaping teeth
It looked back at me
It's eyes an inferno
So tell my mom
I cannot come home
It is not there any more
But my brother's bicycle
Is hanging from the terrace
Do take it inside mom
For when it rains
It'll get all wet.