We aspire a world full of joy, kindness, care and positive words Image Credit: Stock photo/Pexels

A time comes in our lives when we feel a sudden pleasing fluency in the myriad thoughts we think. As far as my memory goes back, I’ve always been a surmising type.

Thinking about very naïve things -- like the alluring colors of butterflies in our kitchen garden, back in the serene yards of the oasis. I would be fascinated for instance by the gooey cheeping of tiny-fluffy chicklings that grandmother used to raise.

The tender shards of old folk-tales our ever-old neighbours' granny fed us. How did the wily wolf understand Arabic, I often wondered?

As I grew up, I found myself still pondering. Still curious. Still asking? All my education, upbringing and love for books made me some kind of an activist. Feeling for others. The downtrodden and helpless. The cruel travails to their drumming my car-pane at traffic signals.

The world has been living with such extreme contrasts, I try telling my heart. Still their desperate eyes pike me at odd hours. If God is just, why does He let these kids starve, heart throws back.

Magical Winterland Oli Oli
Image Credit: Supplied

I have stayed hapless on many counts. I could never cease to be a romantic. I could never shrug that innocence which love evokes. Love for nature, kindness and more. I still believe in unadulterated, unconditional love. 

Then there is a humorous side to my musings. My family will vouch for it. I believe a sense of humor... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.

I will be candid. I have a heart which is caring. Now this means two varying things. At one level I have been compassionate and at yet another, I got hurt more than anyone else.

How choices betrayed me

Misunderstood! It is not that my choices have betrayed me. I think my stars go astray somewhere; I think I can’t align myself to anyone anymore. Like those gypsies. Nomads who wander. My heart wanders.

They say journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will-whatever we may think. I am glad that I’ve a candid set of scruples and I always – loved.

With all my heart and soul and everything!

Ahmad Nazir is a UAE-based freelancer writer