One of my dearest feathered friends has opened a very promising business. Come and visit her online jewellery shop. URBAN ATTIC. Pretty stuff, I promise. And you can pay in cash, if you don't have visa!
I watched Le Voyage yesterday. It was reflective, and sad, and really funny at some parts. If you didn't know, it's about a young man driving his father to Mecca for the haj. Naturally, the boy's annoyed that he's subjected to this and resents how his father can't just fly there like everyone else. The movie fits the foreign film genre perfectly - beautiful cinematography, little dialogue and nice and meaningful long stares into space.
I don't know how the whole crew got into Mecca. But they certainly did. How come they got to video Masjidil Haram but when we go there and happen to hold a camera outside the doors, they threaten to shatter it into smithereens? Honestly.
All the sights of Kaabah and terribly crowded roads make me yearn to go back. I love it there so much. It's one of the rare places where I'm something of a majority. It's where a routine life is fulfilling - waking up before dawn everyday for prayer, and see everyone else do the same, is surprisingly joyful and satisfying. And I think I was the best there - nicer to everyone, did not think dark, depressing thoughts. I think I felt hopeful, satisfied and completely unafraid of anything. And when I came back, I tried to sustain that. But it's harder here, where material things sometimes cloud the vision and cause confusion to settle in. And then that feeling crops up again - that everything I do seems somehow pointless. Isn't it funny how we're all going to die, and we don't know when or how, but we behave like we have all the time in the world? I want to be able to die without regrets, and without fear.
No comments:
Post a Comment