We can get through this. You just have to believe in that because we don’t know if a miracle is about to come our way.”- Afia
She'd brought everybody apart, tearing the whole family that was once a compact groundwork into a whole new design, ugly and non-structured.
It was bittersweet and lovely how this thing called family could make you feel belonged, wanted and complete.
There were so many things we left unsaid. Depending on how you look at it, whether you think it was worth saying it out loud, or better kept inside.
There was this saying that kept on haunting her mind – tears make you seem weak. And she wasn’t weak. It was just that sometimes when she was all alone, it had made everything seemed so much real and convincing.
I never settled with anything. It was like a pendulum; swinging back and forth but never reached a comatose state. As a sequence of events around me unfolded, I struggled to understand who I was, whose child I was and whether I would ever find a way home.
He’d managed to take hold of her being, her poise and twisted it that it’d mutilated so bad. Even she had forgotten how it had felt to be sane.
Horror was written all over his face as he began to understand that that child of his wasn’t stupid, or immune to what he had done in the past. It had greatly affected her.
The scar she'd left her was so deep that it may take a thousand million years to heal. She couldn't pretend like nothing had happened. She couldn't shut her feelings, like how you shut a window blind; once you did it, all lights from the outside would be swept away from the room. It had taken her years to acknowledge the fact that she was unwanted; a subject of shame for her mother to sink in. And for sure, it would take her more than nine years to forget it all, in one go.
To lose someone after you’ve loved them was tougher than losing them when you’ve never even met them.
Being a successful and wealthy man doesn't mean that you have to forget about the place where you were brought up and the people who struggleds to make you a better person
Success has nothing to do with what we accomplish for ourselves, but the amount of hard works we put forward to others
She knew for a fact that she wasn't going to sit around and wait for some miracle to happen. She wasn't going to watch the storm in front of her and pretend like nothing had happened. Yes, Allah is expecting her to be patient and keep on marching forward
A marriage is sensitive, fragile and crucial. Once you mess up with how you handle it, it will shatter
Not until you’re bind together with a more pure and sincere relationship, the love you feel to each other will never become something tangible - Sarah
I synonymously felt my heart beat rapaciously, the heart which was once void of anything alive and well. Now the heart was rasping and knocking on my ribcage as if it was demanding to come out, take its root and grow.
I didn't know that I've completely left them all in the past. There's a part of me, wishing and hoping, that she would come back for me, and we would start a new life together, but she didn't.
It was too easy to lie, when you’d practised it a few times. It was hard the first time, but once it flow from your tongue like the perfect summer breeze, and everybody seemed to believe in it, it became mundane. You’d just have to program it first, copy and paste the same old sentences all over again.
Men and women were doing at their unsurpassed when they were together. It was more or less like the sky and the ground, diverse in nature and was miles apart but they complete each other.
What Zayd had said to her was hurtful. The words speared across the most sensitive part of her heart like how a gardening spear cut along the leaves, leaving the top part of the bushes bare and lost.
A few years ago, she thought someone had finally come to love her and accepted her unconditionally, but she was wrong. You couldn’t really define love with money. It was more than that.
You can't stay young forever. Being young is a privilege. God knows, how many of them in their death bed wished to be young again and they regretted all the things they should have and should not have done.
I could just felt the twinge of resentment with her being there, where my mother was supposed to be. What right did she have, to replace that place?
I was like a ten-year-old kid who had been scraped off a mother's love so sudden and surreal that I kept hoping I could chant a few magical words and slowly, Mama Jas would materialise in front of me.