My Childhood Home

When I was not even a year old we moved to our house in Islamabad. We lived there for 13 years and this was the longest time I have lived in one place. This house has special meaning for me as I spent my childhood years there.

My earliest memories of this house are probably when I started school. We had a white Fiat and my father would drive me and my elder brother and sister to school.

Compared to the cramped, falling over each other houses that we can afford these days, that house was huge. It had a long driveway leading to a garage where our dog had puppies, a small back garden and a front garden. I remember the guava trees in both the gardens that I loved because I could climb them easily. I spent many afternoon hours outside and I learnt to skate and cycle grazing my elbows and knees in the driveway.

The house consisted of two floors. There was a sitting room downstairs which was reserved for the guests and a lounge overlooking the back garden. Adjacent to these were the kitchen and dining room and they were connected by a swinging door with a window in it. I would help my mother in the kitchen when she made something special. A guest room completed the plan downstairs and we frequently had house guests staying there. Of course my favorite visitor was my grandmother and I remember I used to sometimes sleep with her in the guest room.

Upstairs was another lounge where we would sit at the table and do our homework. There were 3 bedrooms connected to this lounge which were occupied by my parents and us 3 kids. There was also a big terrace where our washed clothes would hang.

Connecting the two floors was a winding staircase. We would hardly ever bother coming down the steps, we would just slide down the railing all the way down. Even now remembering that makes me smile.

Whenever I have a dream where there is a house involved, it is always this house of my childhood years. I will always remember it with fond memories.

Daily Prompt: Our House

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  2. of raging wants | Anawnimiss
  3. Daily Prompt: Our House- The impact of family to our psychological mind | Journeyman
  4. Streaks in the Darkness | Exploratorius
  5. Home: Tankas | 365 days of defiance
  6. To London For Love & The Daily Prompt | The Jittery Goat
  7. Daily Prompt: Our House | Under the Monkey Tree
  8. Cumbraes, 1962 | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  9. Launching Pad | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  10. Daily Prompt: Home | The Wandering Poet
  11. evergreen | yi-ching lin photography
  12. My family are huggers, and it’s always been an awesome part of life. | thoughtsofrkh
  13. Daily Prompt: House | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
  14. Daily Prompt: Our House | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  15. Short Plat – A Short Story | Kilbo – Chris Kilbourn
  16. The House in Middelburg. | Hope* the happy hugger
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  20. The Gray House | A Sign Of Life
  21. Childhood Memories of Home | Unload and Unwind
  22. Home | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
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  24. Children Must Be Seen And Not Heard | Lisa’s Kansa Muse

Dollars, Dirhams & Pounds

I worked for ten years in a telecom multinational. I traveled around the world for workshops, meetings and training and made enough money to buy a house in my home country. When I had a baby I gave up my job and stayed at home to be a mother. My priorities had changed and I felt I had to devote myself to being a mother.

My role as a mother has been more rewarding and far reaching than my job could ever be when I consider that the way I look after my son will affect the kind of person he grows up to be. As an adult he will affect the lives of so many people around him. It’s like a chain effect and the starting point is a mother.

Despite that sometimes I miss the fact that I no longer make money. I feel like I may not be living up to my full potential if I cannot generate an income. What use are my PMP and Six Sigma Black belt and all my experience if I cannot even land a dime.

Actually I did land a dime recently. I did some market surveys online and when I got paid for it I felt I had accomplished something even though it wasn’t even enough to have a decent meal for two.  I have even looked for opportunities to work online from home but haven’t really found something interesting.

I don’t want to go back to a full time job because I don’t want to neglect my son. Being there for my son is my number one priority. There is no doubt about it.

But why do I have this feeling of inadequacy? And what would I do with the money even if I was making it? Just pay a part of it to charity and put the rest in the bank. Why would that give me satisfaction? I don’t even understand it myself. Is there something about making money that is addictive? Would it satisfy my ego?

What do you think?

Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough

  1. Girl Taking Photo of Herself Through a Mirror « Inside my glitching mind
  2. Addicted… | The Rider
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  4. Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough When I’m With You | Awl and Scribe
  5. Daily Propmt: Can’t Get Enough | Under the Monkey Tree
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  11. Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough
  12. Addiction? Oh yeah « RPMAS
  13. Celebrate Good Times. | gypsy thoughts ..
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  15. I do hope there’s a rehab for singleness | JC Bride ~
  16. On Facing Harsh Realities | The Magic Black Book
  17. My Toy Box | Kate Murray
  18. Only ever so slightly addictive me | thoughtsofrkh
  19. Addicted to ‘love’ | alienorajt
  20. Daily Post: “Can’t Get Enough” | The Adventures of Rain Dance Megan
  21. Can’t Get Enough | The River Mom
  22. of course i’m an addict | wannabepoet
  23. Add diction – A very short post | Neva Samaki
  24. Big Girl Now But Still Hungry | Virginia Views
  25. Can’t Get Enough | Motherhood and Beyond
  26. Alas, stopped daydreaming | crookedeyebrows
  27. Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough | Wordz on a Page
  28. My Coffee Addiction-Peet’s is Poo | Mac’s Blog
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  31. Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough | Love.Light.Life.
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  33. The Beauty of Autumn (Addicting) | photo potpourri
  34. Daily Prompt: Can’t Get Enough | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  35. PROJECT R – Continued | vicbriggs’s blog
  36. WIZARD BATTLES and the longest post I’ve ever made! | I’m just Super Saiyan
  37. Things I can’t get enough of… | Processing the life
  38. SAFE DRINKING RULES | Emotional Fitness
  39. Surfer Rob’s outlook on addiction | Rob’s Surf Report
  40. ✗• smoke 2 joints •✗ | The RunningFather Blog
  41. The Withdraw: Daily Writing Prompt | Finicky Philly
  42. I’m done- it’s about me now | tornin2’s Blog
  43. I had my cat | Life is great
  44. The Year Of The Cat | Just Visiting This Planet
  45. Obsession | A Wandering Writer
  46. My Strange Addiction | A String of Pearls
  47. You’re my obsession – CombatBabe
  48. Addicted… | Haiku By Ku
  49. Up to my knees in.. | Take your Chances; Make it Happen
  50. Addiction? I Have No Addiction! | Stuphblog
  51. Daily Prompt; Can’t Get Enough | terry1954
  52. Addicting | Shine Bright
  53. The Lost World | Flowers and Breezes
  54. “Can’t Get Enough” | Relax
  55. More! | The Silver Leaf Journal
  56. DARKER SIDE OF NIGHT by HastyWords | hastywords
  57. Addiction | Life Confusions
  58. Spellbound and Loving It | Daily Observations
  59. Can’t Get Enough Pepper | Crow Arrow, Inc.
  60. The Life of a Spoon Dealer – By: NCBEK | Incessant Ramblings
  61. One Starving Activist

Excitement of making a new home

My husband had been posted in the volatile Frontier province and he traveled armed and with a bodyguard ready to thwart any kidnapping or robbery attempts.  I was living and working in the capital city and I would see him on the weekends and when he traveled back it was not until he messaged me of his safe arrival that I could relax again.

One year passed, then two, and when we had our first baby, a son, my husband decided he had had enough. He began to apply for jobs abroad especially in the Gulf region. He was called for a couple of interviews in Dubai and we began to hope. Finally an offer came, but to our disappointment it was not good enough. Then another and this time the offer was far better than our expectations. We were ecstatic.

We were to move to another country after living 30 odd years in the country of our birth. A new life, a better life awaited. We were moving away from all the insecurities. And best of all we would be together. I remember I couldn’t sleep the first night with anticipation. My mind was too full of what was to be done and how great everything would be. I had already quit my job a few months after the birth of my son and now I had a new project “Move to and Settle in Dubai” to initiate, plan, execute, monitor and close.

We arrived in Dubai three summers ago. It took us a few months to settle in. I remember the excitement and rush I felt when I first saw our home. And the big backyard that came with it. The prospects of little Nadir soon running around in it. Decorating his nursery. Decorating the house with all the things I had collected on our travels that had previously been stuffed in cupboards because of lack of space. Making this house our home.

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  14. The Many Faces Of Lucifer: Excitement | Mareship
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  26. Daily Prompt: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! | M. L. Trefry
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  38. What if I was super, duper EXCITED? | Okay, what if ?
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  40. Excited? Not with my inner selves at work… | thoughtsofrkh
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  48. Excitement (1): Eagerly Waiting | The Silver Leaf Journal
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  51. On the tip of a pointe | MC’s Whispers
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  59. Daily Prompt: Nothing Here Excites Me Anymore | Morrighan’s Muse

Daily Prompt: Procrastinate

I haven’t been home for the last 3 years. Not even once since we moved to Dubai.

I always have an excuse. The electricity shutdowns are too much to bear in the heat, the winter is too cold and the security situation is terrible.

I haven’t met my only brother since then. His daughters are so much bigger now. They are even too shy to be seen on Skype.

What is the real reason for not wanting to go back? Am I too used to the comforts of a big house and a maid to do all the work? Will I be uncomfortable in my small house back home?  I’ve lived all my life there, why do the 12 hours a day electricity shutdowns and suicide bombings scare me now? Shouldn’t my son visit his own home and know his own country? He can’t even speak his mother tongue. Shouldn’t I have made more of an effort to teach him? When he speaks the few words he knows he sounds like a foreigner.

Should I plan a trip home in the next holidays? But…

We came to Dubai for a better life and now that we have it I don’t want to look back. If it’s not safe in my country, I don’t want my son to be put in any kind of danger or discomfort. Let me procrastinate a little longer.