Of Monsters and Men | Little Talks
At Yonge & Dundas square, three men were playing music. I have no idea from where in the world it originates but it captivated the attention of dozens of people who sat around. Old & young, multiple ethnicities sat and stood, listened and danced.
One of them was a middle aged Somali man who was captivated by the same reason I was standing there. The music was haunting to us, because it echoed the music of Somalia that has now been lost, no longer appreciated as it used to and no longer continued or developed at the level it may have been if life there was not disrupted due to the stupidity of war. It brought back memories of dancing at my grandmother playing old tracks while knitting, me awkwardly dancing around.
In the span of ten minutes I listened alongside a man who missed his past, pain and heartbreak etched on his face as his reminisced on how it used to be, how friends playing music on the shores alongside the ocean was a normality, to an Ethiopian woman who remembered her youth and kissed me thrice on the cheek, leaving me with prayers, love and blessing for my future, for the future of Somalis and Ethiopians alike, for the world, with me in the middle fiercely missing a county I will never truly know, a people I wish I was more connected to, a culture I wish I knew more about but love with all my heart and feeling this immense connection to people I may never meet again.
Toronto, sometimes you amaze me.
I don’t get attached easily, but the moment one gets to a high level of importance in my life, this person now becomes someone who I cherish, truly trust and love and would do almost anything for. This person becomes family.
This person also now has the ability to truly hurt me, their opinion of me matters greatly. I hate feeling so attached at times but also feel so incredibly blessed when I know it’s returned. But there are times with some people I have no idea where I stand, and time does nothing to change this.
I hate feeling like I’m too attached, that I care or love too much, too strong. Makes me feel foolish, as if I’m exposing myself too much, handing over too much power over me, basically making it easy for them to deeply affect me.That one day some people will have disappeared easily from my life, and that I’m easily replaceable or removable from their lives. This isn’t that I don’t “love” myself enough or I’m too “insecure”. It’s not with everyone.
There’s a part of me that recognizes that this could all just be in my head. But there’s another part that recognizes it could be true. Easily replaceable. It’s happened in the past, with many people, some expected, some I never thought were capable of it.
I just really hate this. I wish I was able to care and love freely, to take risks without freaking out about consequences or things that could never happen. I usually don’t but when I do, it’s hard to turn it off.
Night of insomnia.
Today’s Mother’s Day and in our home, we didn’t really celebrate it in a major special way. Mum would always say that every day is Mother’s Day and I had always taken it as trying to be the best to her every day. This year was a bit different as my sister and I bought her a really nice gift she had wanted. I hope she loves it.
I turned 22 yesterday, officially older than my mum when she had me. It’s weird thinking about that. The fact she had achieved immense things by the time she had me-bachelor in education, married, a child, memorizing the Quran and working towards getting her ijazah, working and also bring a wife. I’ve hardly achieved anything close to get level at 22, which is one of the reasons I don’t want to show her my transcript. I’m the child born in the land where we can have it all, where we can achieve greatness they could not achieve or have the ability to with the war. I’m ashamed I haven’t; they were stronger than us.
I can’t imagine at eighteen having to leave your family, your home, your life involuntarily while at eighteen I voluntarily wanted to leave. There’s a part of me that fiercely never wants to leave my mum, to always be by her side, shielding her from hurt and loving her, take care and do all that I can. But as I get older too, there’s another part of me that wants to leave, to witness and live life on my own. Not long, a year or two, doing my masters maybe somewhere, just to see who I am not under my mother’s roof. Who am I without get direct influence and what would I do with full independence. I know I will not be able to do specific things in the future without doing this. But I feel guilty thinking this. I don’t have my family. I don’t want to run away from them.
Her battle scars will never fade but I hope we as her children can help bring immense happiness in the future. I hope she will be proud of us. It isn’t easy to be Canadian and Somali in Canada at times, but it certainly is not easy being an Somali immigrant-Canadian either, working hard to succeed in a country you never wanted initially.
It’s home now. A home far away from so many loved ones, constantly keeping in touch through long distance phone calls, through airport pick-ups and drop-offs, hellos and goodbyes that are never-ending, never satisfying, scattered all over and I don’t want to be another part of her dispersed somewhere else, a place connected through technology and not my touch.
Mums back. Time to surprise her.
Happy Mother’s Day.
An early birthday present- a fight and heartbreak.
Yay new anon in a while. I posts songs here sporadically when I truly enjoy it/it’s new. If new ones come out that I love, I shall continue to do so!
I am incapable of being annoyed/mad/sad(for the most part)/disappointed at anyone for very long.
Like no. I want to be able to last for more than a few hours. Sounds wrong but hey, this easily forgiving characteristic is annoying me.
Tum Hi Ho … (Aashiqui 2)
It’s really weird how writing about things helps me move past it. Maybe I should start making some posts private. But this seems like a good method than ranting about things all the time in person, aha should start enjoying my times out more!
In other weird news, I may be leaving this summer…I’m also joining the adult world it feels by getting a watch.
Stay (The Voice Performance) / Amber Carrington