Friday, January 13, 2012

Khartoum Heartbreak_ tears fall for days lost in time



Today I am sad and frightened
I  have failed terribly not even easily and I have so much work to do
Not in just passing but in dreaming

my dreams have tarnished
my dreams have become finite
I can see their end near

Sometimes I wish I could just leave and turn home
I miss home
I always write about the sounds, the visions , the balconies and the scents
I always remember the history the past
when there was no judgement
just clean verandas and sunset kitchens glistening with sparkle

If I close my eyes I can remember a long time ago
a clean veranda where cotton sheets mesmerised in the working air conditioning and mixture of fresh bakhoor . The flowers painted lightly employed the sunset and flashed their desire to impress. pillows plumped outwards and chairs sat perfectly for dinner. the scents of lux soap devoured the space as white skin was moisturised and long black but hair was swept into a gently ponytail
the middle bed was the first story , light television over a sweet evening tea visitors allowed and sowing talked over perfect hems

IF I close my eyes I can unfold the time back to when wardrobes were filled with treasures. It was a young kids dream, my dream to beg for them to be opened she used to laugh and open them with hands free show me the vast array of collected items I couldnt wait to grow up so they could be mine
fabrics from far and wide sat like decorated armor
I wore this when I and I wore that when and /..... this one is for you when you get married
I chuckled and tried to imagine a still foetus dream
perfumes lounged in discussion as I was allowed to spray 

chanel number 5...... the master of perfume .... no other bottle could compete with her love of number 5 it sat like the captain in the centre of the other scared bottles on the second shelf of the first  wardrobe........ thats anough spraying! dont waste my perfume!
i was gushed out of the room smelling like a bucket of cologne -

If I close my eyes I remember how the plants had to be watered at the right times.... just before Asr - and when the yard was washed. I remember how the yard was washed and she stood at the corner of the veranda door


Inspecting......
move that conspicous pot and clean behind it !
 Andthen days when ehr history was taken to london
the london I want to return to not this london when red buses where open at the back and you could make it ot break a leg.....we always made it
 Strawberry cheesecake in woolsworth
clothes shopping in C&M

I sitll remember she loved those shops
I still remember she treated me to the end of a hard day shopping to strawberry cheesecake in woolsworth
but when I close my eyes I cannot remember it all! UUUGGGH
its fuzzy its broken and its lost, like images from an erased tape due to old age
I try and force my eyes shut and repair the image but I do not have all the memory in store no longer

I wish I did I wish i did
have the image of her and I in woolsworths eating strawberry cheesecake in oxford street
what did we talk about
I will enver know
what was she thinking I will  never know

I have all the feelings and emotion devotion
I can sense her and I know what I am missing without her
but its too late
 i miss her dedication to perfeect cooking, perfect cleanliness perfect accuracy
freezers set to the right degree and jelly must not be too soft or too hard
it was t he knowledge of a genius
it was the era of beautiful days


I miss it all
I missi it all
I  miss her
I miss her




My grandmother 
she is the days I want to recreate
she is the product i want to become
she isthe fairytale that should be acted
she is the wonder that should  be facted


she is the happinness that I want to repeat
Her abscence is a misery i cannot defeat
she is the key to a history untold
beautiful images in my mind frozen and cold
I want to take them and melt them in the heat
and return to the day when the back yards flourished with cotton sheets and we sat there so happy so
ignorant to the fact these were the most cherished days in my youth
I cannot weight those days with anything
I cannot pay for my future without the income of those days

those days when life was still traditional yet modern
when was life was still blended with ease and pattern of beauty
when my grandmother was still the pearl of the house
 and the story of love
the story of kindness but the difference in detail
in respect in standards and knowledge
made her a woman no one can ever find today

mary......
I wonder where your helper went , what happened to her is she alive or dead
the last reminensce of a Sudan now gone you and her , you and me,me and her me and a history I close my eyes and wish to return to
A sudan, a day, a story ,a moment in life we will never ever ever see again


No comments:

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' -