Category Archives: writing&blogging

Lights and Flowers

Crowded streets, full of cars the fancy and the regular ones wandering the streets into different destinations, heading to restaurants, theaters, cafe, home or probably heading to a friend’s house.  Where ever it is going, its’ passengers are seeking for rest and joy after a long working day.

There he is resting his back on the traffic light, gazing at its lights switching from green to orange to red. When the orange one comes he stands up hugging a bunch of flowers, ready to move and as fast as the red light appears he mingles between the cars;  charming the passengers one time, praying for them the other as he offers his flowers. Some just close the windows in his face, others curse him to go away and few are those who buy his flowers.images

Just like any other  day, he is racing  the time, and moving along with the light and escaping from death every minute as rolling cars pass by him. Behind the windows of the cars he sees all kinds of people the greedy, the kind, the sweet, the evil, the miserable, the tired  and the depressed; all waiting for the green light to move on. The streets are getting quiet; the sidewalks are getting empty with lighting bulbs twinkling softly, and he still has a bunch of flowers to sell, it seems that he won’t be calling the day off any soon.

He sits back in his spot imaging how does it feel to be in a fancy car, wearing elegant clothes, going to beautiful places and eating delicious food. He was taken by his innocent dreams and he forgets all about the lights and the flowers. When a voice comes from behind: “hey sleepy! Get back to work”, he opens his eyes to see his partner looking really happy that he couldn’t help it but ask “why are you this happy?!”,   “you won’t believe it pal, it is God’s mercy, there is this lady, she said I look like her brother so she gave me some extra money”, he says it with joy as his eyes sparkles and he jumps away holding that extra paper money tightly in his hand “I will be in the near street, meet me there when you finish, we’ll go home together”.

His friend’s happiness brought him back to real life, they don’t deserve a wealthy life, and they should be satisfied by the few extra nickels they get from time to time, he stands up and gets back to work.

By the time he sells all his flowers, it was early in the morning; he drags himself to go find his friend. He walks and walks, tired and sleepy, he calls over his name but there was no answer, he thinks maybe he’s home already. With this thought he changes his direction heading home, when he glimpses him sleeping by the corner of the street.

He approaches, stands right above his tiny body, talks to him but he doesn’t respond, he kneels down, shakes his body with his small hands, but he never wakes up, his body as cold as an ice and that paper money still embraced by his small dirty fingers as he hugged a bunch of flowers in the other hand.

The eight years old boy sits there mourning his friend, recalling how happy he was just few hours ago, wondering who will accompany him in his daily journey  across the city’s streets from now on,as kids their age get up in time for school.

He is coming today!

Every morning, she prepares the coffee, places two cups on the tray and brings it out to the balcony. Afterwards, she gets dressed with one of her vintage beautiful dresses, shiny heals and leather bag  and heads  towards the markets with a lovely smile on her face as she says to every person she sees “My son is coming home today”. She strolls around the shops as if she is searching for something specific until she reaches a closed shop.  She stares with disappointment turn around and walks back home.

On her way back, she ran into her friend who asked “What’s wrong?”  She looked at her with sadness featuring her old face “buttons! I need buttons for the sweater I knit for my son; I can’t give it to him without buttons”. She said that leaving her friend behind and marched ahead talking to herself, cursing that she’s late because her husband is waiting for her and counting the foods she needs to prepare before the biggest arrival.

At home you can see her through the windows, moving around the kitchen, with her dog sleeping on the rug, chopping vegetables, stirring pots, preparing the dining table, placing the fancy tableware for the special occasion, when everything is set, she changes for a better dress, sprays perfume, stares at herself in the mirror as she can sense the excitement in her eyes.  She sits on the top of the table waiting, the sun disappears, she could hear noises of her neighbors getting back from work, night falls, it is all silent and she is still waiting, in the dark alone with her shadow and her dog; her only friend.Woman-Waiting-by-Will-Collier

Poor old widow has never lost hope, her husband died of misery and she still gets up every morning, heads to the mall that she thinks is the same old bazaar, searches for places that no longer exist and for people whom left long ago. She waits for her son to return from a war that no longer occurs…

Her daily feasts end up feeding hungry families as everyday she gets up, she hopes and she waits …

A Struggling Tornado

Hand s apart, your  legs dancing on the rhythm  of the air, feeling the wind through your hair and striking your face gently, flying freely, like a free-falling leaf dancing in the wind.

At once you feel wrapped, surrounded by the wind, as if your internal struggle is subjected into the outside; you’ve been caught by a tornado. There you are cycling around yourself inside it, as it moves dragging all what comes on its way from good and bad, filling the inside of the tornado.tornado_to_oz_by_karla_chan-d4qpnzs

You’re wrapped between images of past faces, echoes of voices and flashbacks to far away moments.

The tornado is destroying the path ahead, scattering it into pieces, crushing it and pitching its pieces as far as possible.

It keeps you wondering about your own faith, what would it be! Will you be dragged back to the past, will you be thrown into the future, or will you be crushed and doomed into pieces!

For now try to enjoy the ride, be part of the struggling tornado, the tornado was for sure unleashed for a reason.  Maybe you just don’t belong in your present time and maybe it might be taking you to another dimension.

A dimension where you can fly freely, where you aspire and acquire, where you dream and do, where the flower of your hard work finally flourish, where the sun will rise, and where even the darkest nights are lighten up with a shiny moon and twinkling stars.

Keep in mind that after each tornado, you can start again; you can stand on the broken pieces and just start again from scratch.

Darkness…

Searching for the moon on a dark night, no sight of it, only darkness is mastering the quiet night…

Not even a single star had the courage to show up…download

What have happened?!…darkness…Silence…fears…defeat…deserted places waiting for a single star to shine upon…

Hidden faces in the shade behind the windows wishing for a single star…

Reflections of dark inside and out…

Will there be a sight of a star before it is too late?!….

Will the light arouse on the darkness?!…

Will the day come to uncover it all?! Will it clear the road upon?!…

Will the shaded faces have the courage to face the light?! Will it go out the windows?! Will it bright up?!

Will the time come… when stars twinkle in the sky? When the moon chiefs the center of the sky and glow upon the shaded faces? Will the faces speak up and scatter the silence?

Or will it always be dark with shaded coward faces hidden behind the windows…?

In a Mother’s Shoes

In a Mother's Shoes When I was a little girl, I used to fool around the house wearing her shoes not knowing how lucky I was to be stepping in a great lady’s shoes. Growing up by her side I learned every single day, how hard it is to be stepping in a mother’s shoes…

A mother devoting her life time for her children’s sake, wasting her precious years while taking care of them, carrying their problems, destroying all the obstacles with them to reach their goals and aspire for more…

A mother,an angel, who carries you for months and takes care of you through your whole life…

Feeds you like a Dietitian…

Dresses you like a Designer…

Heals your wounds like a Doctor …

Listens to you like a best Friend …

A mother who shares life time moments with you…

Her smile tells you everything is going to be okay…

Her hug gives you strength to keep walking…

Her glamorous looks lead you through the right road…

Her kiss gives you part of her compassion…

A mother not only for her own children but to everyone around, her loves and cares are enough for everyone, she takes care of everyone around her with no return …

She is a mother in every way of her life, with her friends, with her siblings and even with her mother; she is always there supporting, listening and helping…
She is enduring, insightful, wonderful, supportive, loving and much more…

She is willing to sacrifice all what she has to see you happy and successful…

She turns a cold house into a home and without her everything is useless…

She is the friend, she is the sister and most importantly she is the MOM!
It is simply not easy to have a mother’s heart and be stepping in a Mother’s Shoes…

Illusionary World

In the middle of nowhere struggling ahead to move while life have slapped you right in your face once again. Blocking walls are getting higher; fire is eating what is barely left, traps, shrubs, lizards and snakes. Every moment of each day we reach for something that leads to a fruitless end again.

At the moment you’re a bird trying to fly as high as it can, but somehow its wings are letting it down. As if you were locked somewhere, dreadful, harsh and lifeless while you can’t find the key to the door out.

Each attempt, each hopeful face ends up to be as hideous as the one before. What are we doing wrong? Have we taken a false road? Is this it? Is this going to last for long?

Complicated, irritating, shameful, pessimistic characters, dwelling around in some circle of time and place. Characters living a life full of issues, making terrible mistakes, carrying unbearable troubles. Then with a push of a button; magically they fall in love, solve their psychiatric issues, and move ahead creating a bright future.  These characters drag us with them to their world, world of words and images. A world that exists only on papers, where in few words, a simple line, life is changed, and a whole characters’ fate is upside down.

For an instant you find yourself part of the story, dwelling with the characters; suffering with them, smiling upon their smile, loving upon their love, feeling their pride and joy. Searching for answers along the way with them until it is over. When it is over a huge force pulls inside of you dragging you back, as if you are travelling in time from one place to another. There open your eyes and welcome back to real life, it is not that easy, things won’t be that glorious in the real world. Maybe Shakespeare was right in killing his main characters by the end.

Books, novels and movies are just a mirror of our life with a touch of imagination, glory and tragedy. It either ends gloriously or tragically.

Let’s wait and see how ours would end…With…UlkuUcgun_148_1415733933

A wish that things were easier to deal with…

A wish that a simple smile can dry the tears…

A wish that an apology can erase how things hurt in the first place…

A wish that distances are diminished and people are closer…

A wish that masks are fallen from all the faces…

A wish that words are true…

A wish that honesty and innocence are not a sin…

A wish that promises are real…

A wish that life is fairer…