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Counting Stars

If they ask me, 

how i spent my last year, 

i will tell them, 

‘I was looking for Allah’.

And if they wonder
what I have gained out of this journey,
I will answer:

“I am finding myself” 

As fast as it came, so it leaves. Seconds, hours, moments, days and months. I’m not the resolution type, but this time round, i feel an incessant need to look back at what it’s all been. So here’s to counting stars!

2015 tasted like the aftertaste of Kenya High School’s food. For four years, we consumed the githeri, ugali and tea-time buns with the obsequiousness of misled patriots, which we guzzled down with our paraffin laced drinks as we ran to grasp some more calculus and thermodynamics. Because it was all we knew then. It was all we had. And we were determined to make it worthwhile. Four years later, bitter-sweet remnants refuse to be let go of. The fetid smell of the air in the dining hall and the unique architectural designs that made the place so distinctly picturesque. There were magical nights when we would play under the rain on our way to ‘Suswa-Nyali’ dormitories after late night preps. The tongue-lashings and punishments that the matron would be waiting to so generously wish us goodnight with, and how we would do it all over again the next night, this time with the full moon’s brilliance towering over us. It is the nostalgia of who i was then, and what those four years made out of a troubled teenager reeking with hormones and the sour realization that i actually wouldn’t have had it any other way. Part of these 12 months feels like i sat behind those medieval wooden tables on my wiggly chair near the dining-hall door just taking in everything that was thrown my way. It brought with it tides and waves of confusion, and leaves with bitter-sweet fragments.

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These twelve months felt like the ninety minutes of a football match. Picture the flashy lights, fireworks, throngs of excited fans, and all the razzmatazz that goes into a football game. The better part of the twelve months, or ninety minutes, was spent vacillating between being the football itself or seated in the midst of the audience. One minute i’m being hurled around in the merciless feet of Messi and the other i’m seated behind the crowd figuring out which goalpost belongs to what player.  Seating in the audience was less riveting of course, when i wasn’t being thrown around by all the cosmic forces around, i was gazing at all the spectacular scenes pass themselves across my eyes. Most times figuring out which beard was neater and cuter, and whose hair was longer. I’d lower the gaze once in a while to the ball, how fast it moved from one set of feet to the other, to one net to the other, and when the crowd got excited i got excited along! A huge chunk of this year was spent stuck between the dingy streets of trying harder and but-why  bother. So many things were happening, time was moving so fast, and for some reason my adrenaline found it better to just lay there, completely unperturbed. #sigh

The remaining part of the year felt like a race-track, more like a Usain Bolt hundred meter dash. I kept running from harsh realities and putting them off to an oblivious end. See, the that’s the product of an escapist and an artist, reality is just never part of the solution. But, you realize soon enough that if you don’t blow your own whistle and face your demons, they will always gravitate back to you until all is dealt with. Remember the saying, time heals everything? Its just a matter of time before you either get tired and stop running or your caught up with.

Most times i figured, i lived in a world that existed around me, but never with me nor inside of me.

But what mattered most is that a yesterday bled into the realms of today and a tomorrow shall be born, until the end of time. And somewhere between all the routine, sleepless hopeless nights, between the melancholic days and joy-tears shed, between the sins and the achievements made, the feet have made tremendous steps. The shoes have learnt to conquer rockier and rougher terrains than they had ever known!

I can not thank you enough for making this part of the internet my little fortress, thank you!

Everyday people, do everyday things, 

but i can’t be one of them, 

I know you hear me now, 

we are a different kind, 

we could do anything, 

WE COULD BE HEROES!!!

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