Life, Crap, Etc.

I’ve never really had many friends. I actually don’t believe in “friends”. I’m not into small-talk, or making friends just for the heck of it. I can’t wrap my head around when someone will say “oh, I have a friend who..” .. and I’m thinking “how come I don’t have friends”? I don’t really believe in the concept of friendship. To me, a good friend is someone who is like family. And, then, of course you have your family (like ‘em or not) .. and the rest are just random acquaintances. I definetely believe people, wether friendship or a slightly more meaningful relationship, are brought together by circumstance. It can be for a day, a week, a month or a lifetime. We come into each other lives to learn something and then move on. As far as love and relationships go, they’re great .. but nothing lasts forever.

A very dear friend of mine has been recently going through the process of losing his mother. Interestingly, I went through the same exact situation last year. I know very well of the gut-wrenching pain, the things you’ve always wanted to say, the “no, this can’t be it” that he must be feeling. Yet, I can’t bring myself to say _anything_ to him. There’s something to be said about that theory of pain someone wrote or talked about. I don’t remember exactly, I just remember over-hearing it from a friend. It’s something to the effect of .. we are INCAPABLE of feeling anyone elses’ pain .. so whatever you see on tv, you can’t feel for the people .. you can’t feel for your loved ones .. you simply relive what you’ve been through .. no matter how small or big. So, in theory, when you’re watching tv and hearing about the U.S. financial crisis and people losing their 401k’s .. are you really feeling for those people? .. or are you, on some level, reliving that bully situation in grade school .. the one who used to steal your lunch? I know I am definitely reliving my mom’s loss and the last days of her life, while helping my friend cope with his situation. All moms are great. But your mom will always be the greatest. It’s the only unconditional love you’ll know.

Such is life, I suppose. Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out. Bam! A reminder to let you know you aren’t the most important thing and that there’s a bigger purpose to life. (of course, I haven’t figured that one out .. input welcome!)

My friend is very well aware of the incredibly difficult time I went through when I lost my mom and how long it took me to come to terms with it. He was a huge support, through the whole process. I guess it’s now time for me to pay back the favor. I only wish it had been under better circumstances.

I have recently realized, with a fairly over-whelming force, that I have some pretty huge (ok, MASSIVE!) deficits for a functioning adult.

I am totally irresponsible (even though I’d like to pretend otherwise), injury prone and most forgetful. Now that I’ve had to live without mom (quite literally, my guardian angel) constantly looking out for me and reminding me of things, these deficits have become more obvious. I seriously have no concept, whatsoever, of time. I don’t know if it’s the meds, I don’t know if I’m just plain lazy .. but never ask me which day of the week it is.

In the year that I’ve been on my own, I’ve attempted suicide, cut myself, bruised myself, lost my wallet (twice!), lost my car keys and missed deadlines (countless times).

While I’ve always enjoyed my independence and felt like I’m the independent type, I’m SO not! Mom was my little fairy, who followed me around picking up my mess, making sure I didn’t kill myself. Without her, while I’m trying to learn .. I’m just such a mess. (ok, go ahead and call me a spoiled little mama’s boy .. maybe I am one!) But the fact remains .. I can’t remember to have my meds and meals on time. My bills are always paid way ahead of the due date. And I haven’t sat down and worked more than two hours at a stretch for over a year now.

But, you know what I’ve realized. It’s OK! No one’s perfect. I don’t have to figure it all out immediately. I’m allowed to take my time. After all, this has been a huge life-altering change in my life. People fall, get up again .. and life goes on!

Dear Mom,

It seems a little weird writing to you, given the fact that you’re dead and all. (and, yes, I’ve been having my Cipram regularly!)

I can’t believe it’s been a year since you’ve been gone. It seems like just yesterday, me making you cottage cheese sandwiches.. you complaining that your soup wasn’t warm enough.

You always told me life is difficult. I don’t think I ever quite realized just how difficult till I lost you. And, my GOD, has it been difficult! The last year’s probably been the worst time of my life. But you know what Mom, I’ve made it!

I have changed forever and for the better. Al the things you used to tell me, finally make sense. The ongoing pain in the pit of my stomach is something I battle with on a daily basis. I miss you, Mom. I miss you like anything. And while I know you’re gone and that this is it, this is a natural part of life .. there’s a part of me that wishes this was some cruel nightmare that I’m just going to magically wake up. The look on your face, the strength that made you who you were, from when you were being wheeled into the OR for the last time (and, really, the last time I saw you conscious) is forever burnt in my soul. You were never ever afraid and I so proudly tell everyone that.

Looking back at your life, I don’t know how you handled it all. And that, too, with a smile and such dignity. How you took over as mom and dad, after dad passed away. How you planned our finances and investments. My various medical issues couldn’t have helped and must’ve been so incredibly difficult for you. But not once did you show any form of frustration or sadness. You knew you had to hold it together for Maryam and me.

What I thought was safe, secure and known when you were here a year a go, is not anymore. And I’m scared, Mom. I am struggling with the various decisions I’m faced with. But I will never give up. Just like you never did. I’m going to make you so proud of me.

I love you .. and always will!

Bilal

“I could never see tomorrow .. but I was never told about the sorrow”

Jun was a petite 17 year old Japanese girl, sitting adjacent to me on a flight to Dubai.  As the plane took off, I curled up in my blanket while she sat cross-legged on her flat-bed deeply engrossed in what seemed like a holiday brochure or magazine.  From our brief, and very formal, conversation it seemed she was off on a skiing holiday to Geneva.

As the plane started its descent, I was woken up by one of the flight crew.  “Are you ok?” asked the flight attendant.  I took a minute to explain a neuro-degenerative brain disorder I suffer from, which causes short-term memory loss and high anxiety.  I asked for some water to take my medication and buckled myself for the landing.  “Man, you snore!” announced Jun!  I, again, explained my medical situation to which she was most understanding.

The plane touched down and the passengers disembarked.  I started walking down Dubai’s Terminal 3, towards the immigration counter when I lost my balance, felt dizzy and hit the wall.  At this point my vision was also getting a slightly blurry, so I decided to sit for a while before walking out of immigration.  I sat on the bare tiled/marbled floor which felt ice-cold, wrapped a scarf around myself and closed my eyes.

“Bilal!  Bilal!” echoed through my head and I thought “oh great, another anxiety attack”.  I opened my eyes only to discover Jun standing in front of me.  She had walked back from her transit counter, after having seen me sitting against the wall.  Jun, this carefree teenage girl whom I hardly knew and had never met before, sat down on the bare floor next to me and started asking what was wrong.  I explained my head was spinning, which often happens after I take my meds and that I’d be ok.  “I have a friend in Dubai, who can take you to the hospital if you need” Jun said to which I explained I had a friend waiting outside to drive me to my hotel.  We both sat quietly for a while, after which Jun asked “why aren’t you wearing a watch?”  “Oh, I just don’t like them” I explained.  Jun took off her watch and put it on my left wrist, explaining that with such a condition I need to be wearing a watch so I can pace myself.  “You really don’t have to” I insisted.  “Ok, well, I’ll just sit here .. miss my flight .. and it’ll be your fault”.  I accepted the watch, thanked Jun and we exchanged phone numbers.  We heard Jun’s flight being announced over the intercom and I insisted she get going so as to not miss her flight.  It really felt like Jun didn’t want to leave.  While I was incredibly touched by Jun’s concern and generosity, I just wasn’t in the frame of mind to be able to thank her enough.  I saw Jun walk towards the transit counter, often turning and looking back at me and waving in the most sweetest adolescent way.  That was the last I saw of Jun.

Shortly after I got up and made my way to the immigration counter.  I did not have a friend waiting outside, as I had told Jun.  The hotel had sent a car to pick me up.  On my way to the hotel, a long 45 minute drive thanks to the morning Dubai rush-hour, I kept thinking about Jun.  While I was still somewhat disillusioned from the anxiety attack and didn’t really quite understand what had happened, I was completely awe-struck at the concern Jun had shown.

“Welcome back to the Grosvenor House, Mr. Ahmed!”, said the hotel’s bell-boy as he escorted me to the hotel’s reception.  I checked into my room, sat down, had something to drink and saw the watch Jun had given me.  It looked like a simple watch, with a nice clean dial and a black leather strap.  I put the watch on the night-stand and decided I’d take a nap.  I woke up six hours later and thought I’d call and ask Jun if she had reached safely, and  more importantly, thank her for the concern she had shown.  There was no answer.  “Ok, I must be imagining this”, I said to myself.  I ran over to the night-stand where I had placed Jun’s watch and realized the watch was very much there and not just my imagination.

I was eventually able to get in touch with Jun and we remain close friends.

There’s a game I’m playing and I’m afraid I’m about to lose.
I can’t win, I don’t know the cheats .. nor the secrets.
The game of life.
My turn to shine, but I lost my stars.
My turn to fly, but I lost my wings.
My turn to dream, but I lost my mind.
My turn to live, but never stood a chance.

Rolled cuffs continuing from last season (love them!) .. Emporio and Paul Smith also followed the trend, with the inner-cuffs often matching the collar .. looks great, esp. with Paul Smith’s signature stripes! .. really like the tuxedo jackets .. always classy .. never out of style .. the “torn jeans” seem to be making a come-back .. personally, I prefer the grunged, vintage sort of jeans .. as for the embroidery, have to say it’s something only D&G would do .. but, certainly, not for everyone to carry off .. pants/jeans with wider silhouettes making a come-back .. thank god, no more of the “skinny” jeans! .. pllllease! .. pleated pants/jeans and tuxedo pants look great! ..

over-sized metallic knitwear shirts .. with the “chanel-ish” border thing happening  .. I WANT!!!

more bags, please!!!

yes, men wear bags! .. how else do you carry your stuff around? .. the college backpack or the odd messenger or laptop bags just doesn’t cut it!

“laptop bags”, no matter how nice, sturdy, etc .. NO! NO! NO! .. get a sleeve for your notebook and a REAL bag ..

amazing detail .. only Stefano Gabbana!

prayer beeds .. always cool!

and, finally, the D&G clutch! ..