somewhere, a clock is ticking
Friday, February 01, 2008
The snow is melting outside. I am sitting inside my very cozy and newly cleaned up apartment, listening to the Jab We Met soundtrack on repeat. There's something about listening to Pakistani/Indian music these days - everytime I do, I want to be home singing aloud madly with friends from home, I want to dance at a wedding, I want to wear bright clothes and not be swathed in five layers like I am now in this wintry, wintry city. I am such a far, far way from home that the long voice chats I have had with E & S have helped me feel like I have brought a small part of home into my living room, but then they say things that make me ache for familiarity, even E going offline because of a scheduled electricity blackout. Which reminds me, the complete closure of Amman because of the snow reminds me of strikes in Karachi. What an odd thing to remember.
Questions about my personal life have begun to scare me. I don't have time to think about this, I don't have time to think about this, goes the refrain in my head - and when I am confronted with questions that force me to think my head goes blank. You know, like that moment in a Calculus exam when nothing makes sense, and you wish you were anywhere, anywhere but here?
Someone asked me a few days ago how I still felt an identity crisis everytime I leave and arrive back to Jordan. I have no idea why, but the question of the nomadic existence has popped up in conversations recently, and despite the fact that I haven't been as much of a nomad as some of my other friends, the thought of even seeing the inside of an airport is giving me hives. Going from airport to airport, filled with a sense of trepidation or excitement, replete with a soundtrack to match, playing on repeat in my head and on my mp3 player - I am living this much-coveted dream finally, instead of wondering about it (because now, when I see people saying that they want to travel the world, I wonder whether they know how much it can emotionally make or break you?)
I haven't written anything meaningful in a while, and I have an entire folder full of thoughts and emotions from everything I felt when I first arrived. Is this writer's block or just the fact that familiarity has now transcended everything? The conflicting feelings of wanting to stay and wanting to move on are blending into nothingness. I have to be awake in 5 hours and all I want to do is to wake someone up so I can talk to them, or wish I had asked someone to stay awake so I could talk. Except these days, I rarely make any sense at all.
Oh well. As always, GetFuzzy says it best:
Questions about my personal life have begun to scare me. I don't have time to think about this, I don't have time to think about this, goes the refrain in my head - and when I am confronted with questions that force me to think my head goes blank. You know, like that moment in a Calculus exam when nothing makes sense, and you wish you were anywhere, anywhere but here?
Someone asked me a few days ago how I still felt an identity crisis everytime I leave and arrive back to Jordan. I have no idea why, but the question of the nomadic existence has popped up in conversations recently, and despite the fact that I haven't been as much of a nomad as some of my other friends, the thought of even seeing the inside of an airport is giving me hives. Going from airport to airport, filled with a sense of trepidation or excitement, replete with a soundtrack to match, playing on repeat in my head and on my mp3 player - I am living this much-coveted dream finally, instead of wondering about it (because now, when I see people saying that they want to travel the world, I wonder whether they know how much it can emotionally make or break you?)
I haven't written anything meaningful in a while, and I have an entire folder full of thoughts and emotions from everything I felt when I first arrived. Is this writer's block or just the fact that familiarity has now transcended everything? The conflicting feelings of wanting to stay and wanting to move on are blending into nothingness. I have to be awake in 5 hours and all I want to do is to wake someone up so I can talk to them, or wish I had asked someone to stay awake so I could talk. Except these days, I rarely make any sense at all.
Oh well. As always, GetFuzzy says it best:
Labels: future, jordan journal, random musings
posted by saba at 9:32 PM, | 
3 Comments:
The Digital Survey is very stupid indeed. Let's go for downtown coffee tomorrow. You up for it?
Hugs.
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaki with all the work :)
Hugs.
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaki with all the work :)
hey Saba,
Interesting post :) I have some thoughts and will discuss with you online...
LX
Interesting post :) I have some thoughts and will discuss with you online...
LX
Thank you.
have a good weekend