I’m Zainab Mustafa an internationally recognised writer, founder of Soul Words Publication, Author of a solo book Soul Words, compiler of 7 plus national and international Anthologies, co-author in more than 100 Anthologies, position holder in international writing contests and open Mics Literary Leiu tenant in story Mirror community, published writer in international magazine and author in upcoming research paper
Writing makes me feel alive I was inspired by one of my teacher and discovered my passion for writing. Since 7th grade I have started penning down my feelings into words. For me writing is not just putting different words on a piece of paper. Writing is a way of escaping my worries and cares, and works as medicine when I am facing a problem. Pen and paper are also my best friends when I feel happiness through my bones. I kept writing until the pen became an extension of my arm. I want my writing to matter one day. I want people to know me. I want people to read my work and connect with it.
“Consistency in anything leads everyone to success” is my motto and me have an aim in life
LIFE IS A TRAIN NOT A STATION
15th of the 5th month in the year 2002, a train took off of its platform for its first ever journey…. Little did the captains knew, it was going to be one of the most exciting travels. It was an ordinary day, like the day before it and like the day that would come after. Not a drop different, the sun was rising as usual and the birds welcomed the daylight as usual; normal for all except the couple that welcomed their first born: a daughter. They held her as she started her journey wailing, terrified of all the destinations the train of her life would come across, eager to conquer each one of them, with the tiny breaths that the tiny soul took. As the day began, so did her life with a terrible sense of humor. It seemed like the train that had taken off just a few hours earlier, had already arrived to its first stop. The baby had Microphthalmia. I believe the weather got foggy after that, as none of the doctors could determine whether the girl would ever be able to see or not, living with the disability.
By nothing less than a miracle, the journey had resumed. The girl was now three years old and at the threshold of another stop in her trip. She had to start her education. Her parents were disheartened when specialists and consultants suggested the school for the blind. Ironically the same day, she started wearing thick glasses for her aid. After deeper consideration the parents gave her a chance at a regular school with children, who all in some way were not all like her, but all were trying to maintain their speed in crossing this platform. All their parents wanted them to live a regular life and yet still stand out in their individual journeys. Her parents and teachers held her hand at each of her wobbly steps, and even though she tripped sometimes, she found the right track eventually.
She dreamed of attending the same school as her sibling. And with that dream another stop had revealed itself in not a very good manner, her school had refused to let her continue with them in third grade. With their heads still high and full of optimism, the parents applied to her siblings’ school even after receiving red flags for their decisions in relevance to her performance not being able to match her peers.
I guess it is true that the closing of a window, or a track, is the opening of a door or a new route because her dreams were now her reality as she entered a new place. Now she dreamed new dreams, with determination that one day, with enough efforts she will witness them come to life.
There is a theatrical beauty in train’s journey. Sometimes when you look out of the windows you see clear hills and cheerful valleys; while sometimes you sit amicably still in the turbulence, watching storms raging outside. You have no choice but to accept the uncertainty, will the storm ever end? You never know but you can do nothing but hope.
I hope you understand I’m talking about life, specifically the life of our young dreamer. In a crowd, she always stood out because of her different eyes. Which meant dealing with questions and an unsurpassable urge of not being noticed. Her self-esteem crumbled at moments, but she held herself through the cracks . She never let any of her weaknesses define her. Passing through storms do make your path clean, and she did appear on the other side brighter and tougher with the ability to withstand the violence of storms.
When you look out of a window, you see your own reflection. At times it is blurry, but eventually you do see yourself, all of the grooves and crevices and curves and plains of your face. Exactly like that, one day our dreamer saw herself, in words and sentences, in prose and poetry. Where pain was beauty and ideas were freedom. She wanted to write stories of sceneries she had yet to see.
She did great things. Crossed stations that navigators had tagged impossible. Achieved everything doctors said she couldn’t. Of course she would, there is a defiance in being a dreamer and she promised herself she would do greater.
As she traveled further, her journey took steeper turns. She decided at once she would memorize AL QURAN MAJEED. Immortalizing her soul with the reverence of the holy text. It was an arduous journey in itself, but it was a journey to the stars. Every step was rougher than the last, but whenever she wavered the shine of the stars gave her strength to always move forward. To everyone’s bewilderment, she completed her goal in one year. Now she dwelt among the stars that once gave her hope.
Destinations and stops along the journey are short lived. Although she wanted to bask in the glow of her success longer, she had choices to make. She had to go further, build a career. Unsurprisingly, it was difficult, few things in this life are not. Rejections and failures are inevitable. The difference, however, lies in the aftermath, in how you determined you are to reach your goals. Are we even mildly astonished that once again our dreamer, after facing criticism, still succeeded.
Changing paths is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength, that you trust yourself enough to go where your heart desires. Even when the young girl’s vision of dreams changed, her clarity of believing in them did not. I have said this before, life has a terrible sense of humor.
It is ironic that she could not physically see what stood in front of her eyes without aid, but in life she could see miles ahead; further than anyone of her age could imagine. Life will continue, taking her to too many stations, in some she will want to live forever but she knows she cannot. When everything around her will fall apart the only thing that will keep her together is the hope that it will pass. It is well said that, “hope is the only thing that is stronger than fear.” The only thing that hold our hands in the awful lonely journey of life
