SMILES

It is 0949hrs, I am sitting in complete silence because I am meant to be reading for my bar exam. However, today is just such an awesome day that I had to spare a few moments to type out something small.

It has been a month since Mr. Man and I have been dating. Typing that out makes me shiver, in a nice way. Also, my heart just went BOOM. Ok, I exaggerate but at least you have an idea of how I am feeling. I am happy. I smile all the time either because I am thinking of him or just how he makes me feel. Sometimes I do it when we’re together and goes like ‘babe, you’re freaking me out’. Ok, he doesn’t, but the look he gives me says that. Then he flashes that smile! That smile can feed me for 100 years!

We talk, we laugh, we share good times, we share good food, we enjoy each other’s company. We’ve fought too. That was the worst day I’ve had in the longest time. Then we made up. YES WE DID! And I cried?! What was up with that? I could see through my tears how that made him feel. Sad. Then he held my face (I love it when he does that!), kissed me deeply and whispered in my ear ‘don’t do that’. It was heavy with emotion though he won’t agree to that, men! Next thing I knew, I felt the earth move.

For The First Time

The title to this post was inspired by the music I am listening to; the Science and Faith album by The Script. The song that goes by that title is one of my favourites ( p.s auto-correct, I speak the Queen's English. That is how I spell 'favourite').

Anyways, I had a loose minute or thirty and decided to drop by here. Mainly to pay homage to my first time... My first time to let go of my fears, not to succumb to my first, and cowardly, instinct to run away from a good thing when it's right before me. Something about taking a risk...

I do not know where this road will lead. I don't know how tomorrow will be.. All I know now is that I am happy. I do not have to think six months ahead, or anticipate the end. I'm living for the moment. If I come out of it scathed, well, shit happens. And what is pain for if not a shiny medallion I can wear on my shoulder? If it turns to be something else... Well, I'll be here to know what it is. I threw out my running shoes.. I'm walking barefoot on the beach sand, talking in all the beauty, letting my breathe be taken away.

The best thing about typing this post is the fact that it is close to 2 am and he is asleep on my lap, snoring away.. Something about how he keeps pushing himself closer to me even when there is no more room for him to move. I am smiling, I am happy.

Masha.

The Road to Santiago

This post is a couple of months old. It featured on undefined but I think it's more at home here on Around Masha.


I was recently introduced to the author Paulo Coelho by some of my new friends on twitter and one was so gracious as to send me his e-books which include a couple by said author. Thanks guys :-)

I randomly chose to start with one book called The Zahir; A Novel of Obsession. I thought it would be like any other book; fictitious and somehow unreal full of plots and scenarios that are disgustingly predictable. I was wrong!

From the prologue, this book tightly gripped at my imaginary nuts! You can only imagine how tight (as virginity) that is. I like how Paulo quotes the bible and works by some seemingly great mind of the 19th century, Constantine Cavafy. From this onset,the book takes you to a journey within yourself in a very unexpected manner. Maybe I didn't help the situation by playing Adele's 21 album softly in the background.

You may(not) have read this book so as an introduction, Zahir in Arabic means visible, present, incapable of going unnoticed. Also is when something occupies your mind to the exclusion of all other things. The way Paulo tells the story of the main character's Zahir...

At some point I stopped reading the book. I was just to afraid of it because it had me asking questions about myself that I'd never thought of... Well, I had thought of them but not this intensely and definitely not for this long.

Thanks to the app I got for reading my new set of e-books, mobi pocket reader, I can do awesome stuff like highlight phrases that got me thinking. Awesome, right? Do not laugh at the technically challenged. By the way Adobe used to work just fine... But thanks again. You know yourself.

Here's what I'll do for this post: I'll share some excerpts and let you know what it made me think about. It's kinda like my own journey to that Spanish border town called Santiago. Again, read the book to get familiar with it.

I hope I'm not breaking any copyright laws but since I've mentioned my source and my views are simply my own, I think I'm in the clear. They excerpts are those that are in bold.


I don’t regret the painful times; I bear my scars as if they were medals. I know that freedom has a high price, as high as that of slavery; the only difference is that you pay with pleasure and a smile, even when that smile is dimmed by tears.

This reminded me of my first relationship. I was 18 and truly, deeply, madly in love. of course it ended badly. I was crushed to the tiniest bits. I could see, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't eat... I was broken. And I was alone. I did not have anyone to talk to who could understand me (I think I was more mature than most of my friends at that time so..). Endless nights I cried myself to sleep, praying for the hurt to go away. Alas, it did not. I even walked into traffic in town... A tad suicidal? That was the most idiotic thing I've ever done.

But that is my scar. There is another but I do not have the courage to share it now... The point is, this wasn't my end. Somehow I managed to rise above the hurt, the anger, the suicidal thoughts (?) and I rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Free to love and be loved again.

My heart might be bruised, but it will recover and become capable of seeing the beauty of life once more. It’s happened before, it will happen again, I’m sure. When someone leaves, it’s because someone else is about to arrive—I’ll find love again.

Forgive me if I seem to be talking too much about relationships. If you have read previous posts, you know I'm recently single. Yes it has been like a huge weight has been lifted from my heart but oh my! This new status has me in so much anxiety! Like Paulo says, when someone leaves it is because someone else is about to arrive. Am I ready? Am I strong enough? How Do I look Like? Am I funny, sensitive, ambitious, interesting enough for him to remain interested? Will he immediately notice my inadequacies as a human being, a woman, a lawyer? then Paulo wrote this;

Why do I have such frustrating relationships with men? I always feel like I have to be in a relationship and that means I have to be this fantastic, intelligent, sensitive, exceptional person. The effort of seduction forces me to give of my best and that helps me.

See how he's in my head? This is something Esther, the Zahir, said in this book. It was just before she left to go do some weird sort or self realization and quest for love. Maybe i should just give up on having any other relationship because for as long as these questions keep repeating themselves in my head, I wont be able to love (again).

What is love anyways?

Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused.

I can't even begin to tell you how confused this has me. If I relate it with my first love, I can totally understand but now... How do I know I'm in love? I know how it feels in my head, in my heart and on my body but if that is it then I've fallen in love with so many people! Aren't we promised just that One? Help me out.


But the day man learns to harness the energy of love, that will be as important as the discovery of fire.

Oh Paulo! If only you had a more direct answer. How the hell do I do something as majestic as discovering fire? I'm this insignificant (seemingly) entity. How then am I able to comprehend such!

I'm almost only half way through the book now. I hope I will find more definite answers to some of thew questions that I still have. I know many more will come up as I continue. I wonder what will become of my Zahir...

It seems I still have a long distance to cover before I reach Santiago.

undefined

Still Here

Has it been a minute or what! I’ve missed doing this… Letting my fingers go HAM on the keyboard! How could I forget my usual introduction?! It’s 1918hrs, I am listening to Destiny Fulfilled by Destiny’s Child. It’s al Eid-ul-Fitr. Don’t you just love free holidays? Now if only the Hindu and Jewish communities in Kenya would stop being so mean with theirs!

Nothing much has been going on. School is just too much, as usual. Term papers, revising for the bar exams in November… It’s a little bit too much. I got an unexpected distraction though. And it’s keeping me grounded… not really but it’s just an awesome. You could say I got my groove back. Jump for joy!! That is all I will say for now *giggle*.

Until I get something more to tell y’all, have a listen to this track by Octopizzo. The lyrics are quite witty. Enjoy!

Masha.

411

I have been trying endlessly to publish the previous post from Word 2007 to blogger directly but I’ve failed. I hate it when I set out to do something and it doesn’t work out. I really should get Windows 2010 because from the research I did, there’s a better Word-blogger relationship. I can’t do cool stuff like strike-throughs. They disappear when I copy-paste. Need Windows 2010!!

Now, I told you I would give you details of the date.

Of course I was late :-) I didn’t want to appear too eager but was within the 15 minute range that is acceptable.

We were to meet at Dorman’s. I couldn’t pick him out from the crowd that was there so I called and traced him. I casually approached the table where he had sat. No, he did not stand up to greet me and I actually had to extend my hand out to greet him. This might not sound like a big deal but it is. Even in a normal situation, when greeting someone, your arm’s projection should be equal to the other party’s. There should be some kind of equality which should only be disregarded if you’re not too enthusiastic about the other person.

Back to the story.

I sat down. He’d already had a cup of coffee by the time I got there so we kind of just went into it. Talking, that is. It was about 15 minutes before he called one of the waitresses to get my order. I got a cappuccino with a nice chocolate love heart. At least he was kind to the waitress. I can’t stand people who are rude to those they perceive to be lower than them.

Then we talked and talked and talked. Mostly about our careers then into relationships. You know, what we would like in a partner…. I assume you know how that part goes. It was a pretty solid conversation. At least he brought to reality the many chats we’ve had. However, I did not fail to notice how he kept looking down at my twins. At least I know the new bra did the job but seriously?

The date went on to about 1815hrs. Of course I rejected his offer to drop me home. He’s still a stranger and Ma told me never to get into a stranger’s car. He walked me to the stage, demanded a hug and I got into a bus. On the way home, he sent me a text thanking me for honouring the date. Do I appear that rude? If I don’t want to meet you, I won’t.

Somewhere in the conversation he told me I have sexy eyes. I’m aware of this. He’d also told me that there was more he wanted to say but he would text or tweet it to me. I tried to get it out of him and failed. When I got home I got this text from him:-

‘This may sound lewd but since I already told you I find you sexy, lemi (sp) break it down. It’s your eyes, lips and bust that kill!’

What the fuck! I replied an awkward thank you and told him that those sentiments were highly unexpected. Reply:-

‘The thing about getting to 30 b4 u get maried (sp) is u get to be very particular abt (unnecessary shortening) what u want in a partner. N when you meet some1 with those qualities, which is rare, attraction is imediate (sp). I found that in you.’

My open mind is going back to being closed! I know men are visual creatures but really? My qualities are my titties and my eyes? What happened to my sense of humour (which I used generously), my ambition, my ability to have an across the board conversation, my obvious intellect? Where did they go? Has the dating scene changed this much that all that matters is my appearance? That is so shallow!

He expects a second date within the week. Riiiiiight.... all the best with that!

Masha.

Date Sunday

It’s 1230hrs. A nice and bright Sunday afternoon. I’ve been reading ever since I woke up at 0700hrs and now on my twitter/blog break. It’s been going well, the reading; refreshed my law of Contract and next up is the law of torts.

At 1600hrs, I’ll be on a date at Karen Crossroads. Yikes! I don’t remember how to this! It’s been how long….? Close to four years since I last went out on a date with a random guy. I don’t have a clue how it’ll go. And what will I wear?! I went shopping for bras yesterday so at least the girls will be nice and perky :-)

So this guy… I won’t tell you how we met but I will tell you how the date will go. I’ve only spoken to him on phone, never met before. He sounds….. *searching files for polite word. Polite word not found*…. Bleh! He sounds old, for starters. And he has the strongest Kikuyu accent ever! He sounds good on chat though. He gets my jokes (very many people do not get my sense of humour) and we have good conversations. He seems to be totally besotted by me (who isn’t?) and seems to have reached a conclusion that there might be something more from the meet up. I don’t think so.

My sister keeps telling me to keep an open mind. Accordingly, that’s what I’m trying to do by going on this date. Did I tell you that her new prayer item is for me to get a boyfriend? Also, after thanking Ma for sponsoring the purchase of the new (very expensive) bras, she says, ‘Now I want you to get a good boyfriend’! LOL!! She’s exceptional!

Mentally going through my wardrobe looking for an outfit…… Even though I know nothing will come out of this date (maybe I should stop calling it a date then) I will not justify it by not looking my finest. Hopefully the sun will carry on shining so my white linen cut-offs and purple top will suffice. Yes. Plus gold trimmings. Sigh! Dressing up for a disappointment. Oh well, here goes nothing.
He just called to confirm the date. Isn’t this an apt time for FML? No? Ok.

Masha.

Note: there’s a significant time difference from when this post was written and when it was posted.

Ish Ish Day

*Please don't take a picture! It's been a bad day*

One of those days when being a girl sucks. I must be ovulating because I do not understand the mood swings I'm having today. On top of that, I haven't read a thing today. I just cannot concentrate. I'm restless! I have cleaned my house and spread my bed in all of 115 minutes and now I'm stuck!

*SCREAM*

I hate, hate, hate this! Plus I think I'm getting pre-exam jitters! I never get those! I'm usually so sure of myself. maybe it's because this a panel like I've never faced before. Then again, that's not it.

FUCK THIS SHIT!!

Tried listening to my favorite music but that's not helping not helping at all (insert 'jack shit' instead!). This is the time I need to indulge in the greasiest fries and fanta orange! And all flavours of Urban Bitez!

Thank God for the retail therapy I will indulge in tomorrow and a date to look forward to on Sunday... Though I'm not so eager about it, the date, that is.

6th July can't get here any quicker so that I'm done with the exam and just bum. Can you believe it'll be only 10 minutes? 10 minutes for me to be stripped off my dignity. FML!

A very moody Masha.

*Commercial Break*

Hi! I haven't posted anything of late because I'm (trying) to read for my oral exam coming up next week. Thought I'd share with you another of my favourite songs this year by Tiwa Savage. She's Nigerian and can sing!!! It's called 'Kele Kele Love'.

Enjoy!



Masha.

Fear

It's 1918hrs. I'm listening to some smooth R&B from 103.9 Relax Fm. Totally gets me relaxed. Went to Toi market yesterday and bought (albeit by impulse) a brown suede jacket for just 200 bob! Can't wait to rock it!

Woke up bright and early today, warmed some bath water (I don't have instant shower) and went ahead with the morning rituals. Compared to most people who do most thinking while on the toilet, I do most of my thinking when having a bath. As I ran the bath clothe over my chest, my mind went back 7 years.......

April 2004. I was in on the final stretch of high school. We had closed school for Easter holidays but soon after we went back for holiday classes, being in fourth form and all. I don't know why the school made us go for these extra classes. None of us read! It was usually a time to make noise, have random beauty pageants (ok. It was only one, the title of Miss. Mabenda, don't ask), talking about boys, gossiping, freaking the cateress out her skin and drink a little alcohol. See, no reading at all! And we turned out pretty awesome!

One Saturday morning, as I was taking a shower, I decided to examine my body. I was actually through with the shower so.. Checked out my ass, perfect. My legs, perfect. My tummy, needed work (still does) but otherwise perfect. My breasts: left one, perfect, right one... Oh my God! What was that I felt?

I got out of the shower cubicle completely freaked out!

The rest of the week went by with me in a daze. I didn't know what to do. Who to tell. I didn't have a phone to call home. I decided to wait for the next weekend when we were to go home for a break from the classes.

When I got home, I did not know how to tell my mother or my sister what I had felt. I don't know why. Maybe it's because all that was going through my mind was 'cancer'.

As opening day drew closer, I wished to have the courage to tell Ma. My sister had noticed how I wasn't my usual self and asked what was wrong. Then the river of tears broke! She was confused! She hugged me and told me how everything would be ok... Love my sister :-)

Hours of crying later, I told her what had been bugging me.

'I have a lump in my breast'.

Those weren't the exact words. If I was to say it exactly as I said you might laught at me :-)

So the cat was out of the bag. Mwe (my sis) froze. She just stood there for like 3 minutes looking at me. In retrospect, that was freaky. Then she turned, suddenly, and went to Ma who was in the sitting room and told her the news. Ma called for me. I was still crying. She asked me to show her where the lump was, I did. Then she did something I have never ever understood.

After feeling the lump, Ma rose from her sit, said nothing and went to her bedroom and locked herself in there for about 5 minutes.

I don't know why she did that. It's still a mystery. One thing about Ma, though, is that you will never see her at her weak moments. Never. So I guess this was one of them. I'll never ask her to confirm or deny.

The following afternoon, Ma took me to Aga Khan hospital to be checked out. We were referred to a pathologist. This made it was! Isn't a pathologist for dead people, I thought. So I was essentially dead! Ha! My mind at 18.

The pathologist was an Indian lady. She didn't seem to care much about this scared little girl in her office who could possibly be facing death. She felt the lump and motioned to the nurse to take us to an exam room. The nurse, young and friendly, told me to take my top and bra off then the doctor.. eh.. PATHOLOGIST... explained what she was going to do. I've tried to remember the name of the procedure but I can't. Drat! There goes my chance to sound smart!

So I lay there. Holding Ma's hand. Topless. Then the doctor brought out (from nowhere, I swear!) a very very very extremely long needle. Yes. She was going to use it to get a sample of the 'mass' for testing. Did I say the needle was long?

She told me to relax (how now??!!) and ever so slowly the needle pierced the soft skin on my breast and when right down to the 'mass'. Meanwhile, I was a mess. Crying like I had never cried before. I squeezed Ma's hand so tight that I almost broke it. The pain! I have never experienced such intense pain in my life! I remember I kept saying my Hail Mary's... On and on and on and on..

I do have the words to tell you how much pain I was in.

Results of the test were to come out the day after next. I didn't want to hang around Ma. Looking at her just made me cry more. So I went home. Still crying. Even in the matatu... I got home to more hugs from Mwe. I was on zombie mode.

To cut the long story short, I was cancer free. When I got the news, I went to church, knelt and thanked God for my life. I have never been so relieved! That evening is when dad found out. The look on his face when he heard what I'd been through :-( For the first time in my teenage life, I sat on daddy's lap and got one of those hugs daddies give :-) Everything was ok again.

Years later, I have not yet found the courage to have the lump removed. It's still non-cancerous though. This is after watching a feature on how a Kenyan lady had gone for such a routine procedure and wound up dead. Something to do with the anesthesia. Planning to have it taken out soon though.... Like before I get my first child.

My grandmothers both died of cancer, breast and cervical to be exact. I know I am highly predisposed to any form of cancer. Yet to make peace with that. How can I? Currently, cervical cancer is the number one killer of Kenyan women... That is some scary shit.

It's 2040hrs. In between typing this, I have cooked supper and done some housework. Can you see the 'S' on my chest?

Masha.

My Favourite Place

Its 1047hrs. I'm watching (listening)CNN. I've had a nasty cold this week. Even lost my voice! It's back though. It kinda went through a rebooting of soughts because I sound amazing!

When I'm back home, my number one place is the beach. Every once in a while, I go there to walk, swim or just goof around with friends. On hot sunny days, this is the only place to be.

There are very many beaches in Mombasa; the public beach being the most commonly frequented. Don't know why they call it 'public' since all beaches are essentially public. But with the corrupt system of some of our laws, some people think they own some of the beaches. Especially these big villas owned by foreigners. Thank God for the 'new' Constitution, they've now been put in their place!

I don't go to the public beach. It's dirty and has many ummm... riff-raffs. At night, it takes on a whole different look as I was shown by @tajaid and @sahlaan. It becomes a meet up point where guys come in their cars, chew miraa and smoke sheesha. I admit I was a bit put off by this, though I did not admit it to the above mentioned despite their numerous queries on the same most likely brought on by the scowl that was on my face the entire time... I tried to hide it though, I really did. But I guess once you're taken out of your comfort zone... I'll go back and give it a second try though.

The beaches I go to are usually those that big hotels are close to. They are cleaner and less densely populated than the public beach. You might be asking yourself why I'd rather spend lots of money in these 4-5 star hotels just to gain access to the beach. Answer; I don't have to. Others discovered the beauty of such like beaches and as a result created some 'panya routes' to access them. This is not trespass. The beach belongs to all of us and we'll get to it by any means possible.

Nyali International Hotel is the hotel close to my favorite beach. I especially like it during low season. Less skimpily clad tourists and those sporty ones who take windsurfing lessons and clumsy with the kite thingy!!! Those ones are the most annoying!

The few fishermen around are polite. All minding their business. No beach boys unless it's during high season. Also less riff-raffs. This equals to having a nice quiet time to myself to think and just appreciate God's wonder. That's usually when I'm there alone. Recently held a surprise birthday party for a friend there. Fun times. You may also want to try beach rugby!!! So much fun that will result in sand all over your hair and in your eyes! Beach football/volleyball is so 5 minutes ago.

But the best beach ever is at Sand Island in Diani. Takes your breathe away!



This is where I had my first snorkeling experience. The water was so clear! So many colorful and beautiful fish. Plus I could easily avoid the urchins. Yes, your number one enemy at the beach.



I'd love to go back to Sand Island. You should too. The cottages are quite inexpensive and comfortable. While you're there, take a day off the beach to go to the Mwalughanje Elephant Sanctuary in Kwale. Last time I was there, our tour van was chased by a huge male elephant! My God! The adrenaline rush!!! I know it could have ended badly for us that's why I will advise you to have an experienced tour driver like ours. His name is Hemed. I envy his occupation.

Such amazing memories!

Remember to always keep the beach clean, that's your responsibility.

It's 1154hrs, still watching/listening to CNN.

Masha

(pictures courtesy of sandislandbeach.com. Apologies for the pics not being large enough. Zooming them would result in their distortion)

Earworm

An earworm is a song that just wont get out of your head. Maybe if I share mine with you it'll finally get out!! No idea what they are talking about but I love it! Enjoy!

My Ring

It's 2212hrs as I start writing this. I've just had my dinner of noodles stir fried in soya meat. It's more delicious than it sounds. It's a polite evening. Enjoying my own company and playing R. Kelly's Love Letter album in the background. Notice how music is such an integral part of my life.

The Zahir is already making me think too much so I've ditched it for some other literary works aka Biko Zulu's blog on wordpress. He writes so well! I wonder if I'll ever gain such command over words. I would love to describe things to you better so you can see where 'the boat' is leading me. (Referenced from the Zahir).

I just read Biko's post on things people get attached to and I immediately thought of my ring.

It was initially my sister's. It was a present from some guy. He must have been insignificant because she didn't mind when I took adverse possession of it. This was way back in December 2004. I remember because I'd just completed high school. Seven years down the line, I still have my ring.

It's a silver ring with diamante stones. I always wear it on my left middle finger. It (finger) even has a tan line the shape of the ring. I don't have the words for you to visualize it...

I don't know why I became so attached to this ring. I know I've gone through milestones with it; finding and losing my first love, K.C.S.E results, first day at campus and graduation, meeting and breaking up with my ex, my first job last year and now at the Kenya School of Law.

This ring has been through a lot.

However, I've recently found out that I've neglected this ring of mine. I have acquired others like this antique looking one with a butterfly on a flower :-) It's really pretty. But that's beside the point.

Between late 2004 and 2010, I could not go anywhere without it. I'd freak out when I noticed it wasn't on my finger. As in full blown panic attack. I don't know why I was so attached to it. Maybe I'd given it too much meaning, made it a symbolic representation of whatever was going on in my life at the time. Now, I prefer my antique ring to it. Or just a bare finger.

Is this some way of my brain telling me that I'm opening a new chapter? A time to get rid of the old? To kind of disrobe from an otherwise dirty garment? To somehow make me aware that I need to move on into something unknown?

I don't know.

What I do know is that in 2011, I've left it behind so many times and not one time have I felt the need to rush back home and put it on or feel my heart sink because of it's absence. I'm strangely at peace. Who knew such an innate item like a silver ring would hold such significance?

Oh well. I'm letting go of this ring. Letting go of whatever it represents. The tan line will still be there. And for as long as it's there, the tan line that is, it will serve whatever purpose the ring served till colour comes back to my finger. What was that about bearing scars as medals? ('I don’t regret the painful times; I bear my scars as if they were medals'. From Paulo Coelho's: The Zahir: A Novel of Obsession')


My rings

It's 2248hrs.

Masha.

Note: this post was originally written on 30th March. A little nip and tuck here and there to make it look more presentable :-)