Like Oil and Water

'What is meant for you will reach you even if it's beneath two mountains. What isn't meant for you, won't reach you even if it is between your two lips'

This is the verse I remind myself when I run into bad times. It comforts the anxiety of the pits of my stomach, it makes my heart breathe a little easier.

Trials and tribulations of life will not cease as you get older. At times even experience, the 'big there, done that' jargon fall short to rescue you. It's not the situation but more how you react to it, is what matters. Or so I've been told. And react I did.

A puzzling situation,  unforgivable to most, stood right in front of me and stared at me in the eye. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to do the right despite knowing my inevitable pain. Probably out of defeat or being well aware of the fact that there really was no way around it. Damage it is, I was the one picking up the pieces and getting cut at the same time.

Strange people happen in your 20s. They drag you into stranger situations and before you know it, you're entangled in that web. You question the point and purpose to no end. No answer is an answer by itself.  You know cobwebs. Invisible. You walk through them and it clings to you. No matter how hard you try to pry it off you, you can still feel the remains.

I was in such a web about a month ago. I let go and almost instantly found my sorry self leaning on a shoulder that I didn't notice was there. One that lurked in the shadows. I was grieving and still hadn't noticed. There were black clouds looming over me, my feet dragging that abominable lull like chains. So easy to destroy something so fragile that nursing it back means more aches and pains. You wince at the thought of it. Forgiveness is no longer an option, It's a choice one has to make. Reaching that choice would only further your pain. A little suffering to ease your selfish soul is most likely a sin itself. Again, there was no giving more than I already had. I chose to be greedy for my betterment.

Some one opened a door behind me, grabbed my hand and yanked me through. Funny, the way things work, you miss a chance so closely while only later on you realise what was right in front of you. May be the door behind me was what I was meant to stop and look at. I smile meekly in an attempt to repair myself from the cords that unravelled. But I was already feeling better. Relieved precisely speaking, I could breathe again without being choked up.

I know that I am safe. I know that I will be okay.


*****

To all those who are worried about my well being or were wondering about my absence from the blog, I'm absolutely fine. Took a break to clear my head and heart of some emotional turmoil that took momentum couple of weeks ago but thankfully that has ebbed. I'm recovering fast and well. I'm blessed with well-wishers, friends who are family to me and of course, family itself. Hope this Ramadan is treating you all well. 

خُدا حافِظ

Perceived Mistresses and Married men

I guess I needed some serious shaking up when I just analyzed and found out majority of my friends are all much older to me. Lately the people I've been casually chatting with are all men much above my age but me being frivoulous or foolish free-spirit ( call it what you may ) I don't think of consequences, unless I foresee it to happen rather too soon.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to roll my eyes (LIES!)  at the 'marriage talk'. Considering now that I am approaching a certain age, the gossip spreads like wildfire more among relations than anywhere else. My problem here is of a different kind. Ignorance is bliss as they say and at times we never think such-and-such thing could ever happen to us. Until it does. 

Two words. Married. Men.

Before you jump to conclusions, let me clarify I am NOT talking about affairs. But hey, interest taken can be misinterpreted in several ways. Easy to slander regardless. 

There are two sides to this, like every story. There are friends you have know since the being of time who get hitched and then there are those who become friends while they are sailing in the ' I'm married ' vessel. The former = no troubles. The latter however, cause of all troubles.

One of my closest girlfriends is getting married in under a month and I'm the one losing my sh*t. ( No, I don't have diarrhea, thankyouverymuch )  It's because I feel like I'm about to lose something. Relationships equations change, priorities change and I'm praying desperately she doesn't become one of those people who starts suggesting marriage to anyone one of us with zero prospects. ( JK Bluwis ).

Naturally, the people surrounding my work area are mostly men. Married men, to be precise. A casual cup of tea and a catch up seems harmless to us, but not to the world around us. If my momma was to find out, I'd be slapped right in the face. Because good women don't befriend married men.

It doesn't always strike me that the mere exchange of words in the same room can be misled to believe that something is on -going. Believe me when I say, I'm just a friend. Till that side of their life is well concealed, I don't tend to pay much attention to it. At times, when I do learn the fact that they are married, I gradually pull away. By then it dawns on me that what I've done was probably not  wrong but not right either. Lets just say it wasn't appropriate. Part of me says why not? You were just friends. Can't married people have single female friends?

Can they really have single female friends? Newly made friends I mean.

While researching on the topic, I read words of caution from women AND MEN saying that if your hubby is spending time or talking a lot about a new friend of the opposite sex, you've got to be careful. When I read it that way it does make it sound like something's up. Although from the other side, the woman might have been a genuine friend and nothing more.

My conscious only starts to tug on me when I'm introduced to the wife herself. I begin to think, what would I do if I were her? How would I feel if my husband went on and on about a woman, a young one that too. Hurtful, isn't it? Even when you've managed to spending so many trusting years and do not want to begin being the nosy, nagging wife, still the mind can't stop racing. A mountain is made of a mole hill. Or may be the root cause was me from the very beginning.

'But we were just friends!'  The opposing side of me says. A mistress is well hidden, but not a friend.
It could be highly possible that doubt might also make it impossible to give friendship a fair shot among the two women.

It's amazing to see how fragile relationships are and  to nurture them, we treat them with utmost tenderness. We try our best not to falter. Sometimes it just happens.

خُدا حافِظ