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
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