Saturday, September 22, 2007

Pages of home

Sudan - The territory of blackness erupting pain through fake streets of peace
Yet stars glitter its skies proud of its misery in some sort of agreement to be committed to this magical land. The country of memories flying from soul to soul and whispering in African heart. Imagination of tribal butterflies - its wings a history of the past, yet a continuation into the future, Monsoon rains orchestral through the air.

Bamboozled by the grandest tropical African country
Its sunshine melts the lotion of tranquility on my foreign cracked skin
To leave a tan of magnificent tradition radiate once more from within
Its morning opening scent of home, wafts through to my acclimatizing heart
Drinking the cup of nationality tea so my eyes tastily capture;
Start to explore the vast warm majesty of African beauty
To reminder the long lost time of wonderful history

The streets coax my directions to live through their journey
The inviting houses feel like they were built to seduce my company
The night time stars and rippling blue and white Niles are a scenic fantasy
Coming true in the deepest love for my homeland imagery

Women decorate the soul of country earth
Their soft glistening ironed hair or ‘bob’ plaited hundreds
By their henna patterned outlines and achievements for a new day
By their root Toubs familiarly wrapped yet designed exquisitely unique
From their native voice of language that ribbons the gift for me; that sadness is evanescent
Men are the youth of a hopeful tomorrow; an introduction into the world of strength and gentlemen help
A birth certificate for elegance and good pride
Their soldierly care and fidelity never subsides
Their white formality and finishing turbans conclude their best

Relatives become my national anthem of joy
They offer me happiness connections that splits all dark
Their smiles and closeness binds my pages of home into a growing book of child – adult hood peace and natural growing up stories
Coffee and Friday prayers, lost slippers and afternoon naps, lighted neon verandas and past midnight laughs

It is a ceremony in my heart, that of Sudan, I am part
Khartoum, Darfur, Merowe and Juba, my reaping love starts
My outcast of commitment to return soars through my veins
My vision of tomorrow living where I belong is a song I will forever sing
To my place, I want to bring – a Sudanese breath, my youth wealth

Foreign cracked skin is because I am living abroad

A comment to woman’s hair is to state more of their beauty and then certain methods; the ‘bob’ plaits are where the hair looks like perfect squares

Henna; coming from the popular henna plant, famous in Sudan, used to decorate hands and feet and other parts of the woman’s body either black or dark red with flowers or other patterns

The Toub is a material as part of the tradition of the Sudanese women worn as outer piece of clothing for all occasions and is widespread in patterns and colors. Nowadays, it is the working woman and married woman that wear the traditional Toub

Men wear white clothing in Sudan with a certain tailored cut as well as white turbans.

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What it is...

I see Life like a rose in the ice... beautiful but with cold settings - There are so many incredible things out there - but we always need to fight and perservere against the hardships too... otherwise the cold will win ... and we will wither away.

My imagination has led me to believe in something called 'Sudan Fairytale' -
The fantasy that My country will one day be independant and proud, never selfsish to provide its people with its needs, give freedom and success to all, be forever committed to achieve a prosperous inhabitance to every Sudanese in their own country-

My eyes fail me and I see the truth which I call - 'Khartoum Heartbreak' - This is a theme running through the blog under the 'Khartoum Heartbreak' Poems and whatever else about Sudan conveying broken down love, poor streets and cut off electricity along with a lot of other decays and problems in Khartoum city Life.

But I love my country and so I have no choice but to merge the Pain and the Love as one.

Faith is my heart and I could never do without it hoping in my prayers that I can be someone better always and that God forgives me as I fall in Mistakes through that frozen path of Life...

Sometimes I feel under control with all the too many emotions that run to colour my days and nights - Books, movies, music, dreams, friends, family, strangers, travel, - reality - the 10 O' Clock news -Most of the time I'm very Lost in trying to understand - whatever happens becomes tangled into writing this confusing memoir -

It's a really odd combination of air - not sure whether it is refreshing or suffocating - stabilising or maddening - But I breathe and
so it is
'Memoirs of a Sudanese breath' as I am 'Lost but under control' -