a memoir of etchings and wanderings
Who said shoes are just things you walk in? Shoes are memoirs. Of the places you have been. Of the squares you walk in. Of distances you have travelled. More than often, they know more secrets than your best friend. Ballerinas. Mary Janes. Converses. Penny Loafers. Oxfords. Flip-flops. *** This is a story of a flat who wanted to be a heel. Give it a watch, you won’t be disappointed.
Over the past two weekends, I have taken to quarantining myself to the house and doing absolutely nothing. A huge portion of the activity is attributed to the overbearing summers which are simply not in the mood to go away. Hence the Saturdays and the Sundays are spent in the confines of the single air conditioned room reading, catching up on sleep or watching movies/series on the laptop (Since the … Continue reading “Atlantis” →
Yes, I graduated. Although I did not get to wear the rented robes, or toss the hat with the tassels or even meet the people I spent two precious years atop a hill. It was a picture in mind that when I would finally post-graduate, the ceremony would be grander; it would all be a little more flashy and different. But I spent the Sunday at home, with the idiot … Continue reading “December” →
Yesterday was packed with a little more shopping, food and a set back by means of my laptop refusing to start up, and making revolting beeps at regular intervals. I am worried. However, to gether the happy bits, Ma and myself were dropped to Qurum (the shopping hub of the city) around the afternoon, by our kind neighbours; We began at Al Araimi Plaza, and walked through the entire area … Continue reading “Occurrences” →