My Ring

It's 10:12pm as I start writing this. I've just had my dinner of noodles stir fried in soya meat. It's more delicious than it sounds. It's a polite evening. Enjoying my own company and playing R. Kelly's Love Letter album in the background. Notice how music is such an integral part of my life.

The Zahir is already making me think again so I've ditched it for some other literary works. One of my bookmarks is Biko Zulu's blog on wordpress. He writes so well! I wonder if I'll ever gain such command over words. I would love to describe things to you better so you can see where 'the boat' is leading me. Again, that reference is from the Zahir.

I'm reading Biko's post on things people get attached to and I immediately thought of my ring.

The ring was initially my sister's. It was a present from some guy. He must have been insignificant because she didn't mind when I took adverse possession of it. This was way back in December 2004. I remember because I'd just completed high school. seven years down the line, I still have my ring.

It's a silver ring with diamante stones. I always wear it on my left middle finger. This finger has a tan line the shape of the ring. I don't have the words for you to visualize it... Also cannot upload a picture of it because my internet connection has been flaky tonight.

I don't know why I became so attached to this ring. I know I've gone through milestones with this ring; finding and losing my first love, K.C.P.E results, first day at campus and graduation, meeting and breaking up with my ex (notice how I've not called him BooBoo? That's the Zahir magic right there!), my first job last year and now at the Kenya School of Law.

This ring has been through a lot.

However, I've recently found out that I've neglected this ring of mine. I have acquired others like this antique looking one with a butterfly on a flower :-) It's really pretty. But that's beside the point.

Between late 2004 and 2010, I could not go anywhere without it. I'd freak out when I noticed it wasn't on my finger. As in full blown panic attack. I don't know why I was so attached to it. Maybe I'd given it too much meaning, made it a symbolic representation of whatever was going on in my life at any given time in that period. Now, I prefer my antique ring to it. Or just a bare finger.

Is this some way of my brain telling me that I'm opening a new chapter? A time to get rid of the old? To kind of disrobe from an otherwise dirty garment? To somehow make me aware that I need to move on into something unknown?

I don't know.

What I do know is that in 2011, I've left it behind so many times and not one time have I felt the need to rush back home and put it on or feel my heart sink because of it's absence. I'm strangely at peace. Who knew such an innate item like a silver ring would hold such significance?

Oh well. I'm letting go of this ring. Letting go of whatever it represents. The tan line will still be there. And for as long as it's there, the tan line that is, it will serve whatever purpose the ring served till colour comes back to my finger. What was that about bearing scars as medals?

It's 10:48 pm.

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The Road To Santiago

I was recently introduced to the author Paulo Coelho by some of my new friends on twitter and one was so gracious as to send me his e-books which include a couple by said author. Thanks guys :-)

I randomly chose to start with one book called The Zahir; A Novel of Obsession. I thought it would be like any other book; fictitious and somehow unreal full of plots and scenarios that are disgustingly predictable. I was wrong!

From the prologue, this book tightly gripped at my imaginary nuts! You can only imagine how tight (as virginity) that is. I like how Paulo quotes the bible and works by some seemingly great mind of the 19th century, Constantine Cavafy. From this onset,the book takes you to a journey within yourself in a very unexpected manner. Maybe I didn't help the situation by playing Adele's 21 album softly in the background.

You may(not) have read this book so as an introduction, Zahir in Arabic means visible, present, incapable of going unnoticed. Also is when something occupies your mind to the exclusion of all other things. The way Paulo tells the story of the main character's Zahir...

At some point I stopped reading the book. I was just to afraid of it because it had me asking questions about myself that I'd never thought of... Well, I had thought of them but not this intensely and definitely not for this long.

Thanks to the app I got for reading my new set of e-books, mobi pocket reader, I can do awesome stuff like highlight phrases that got me thinking. Awesome, right? Do not laugh at the technically challenged. By the way Adobe used to work just fine... But thanks again. You know yourself.

Here's what I'll do for this post: I'll share some excerpts and let you know what it made me think about. It's kinda like my own journey to that Spanish border town called Santiago. Again, read the book to get familiar with it.

I hope I'm not breaking any copyright laws but since I've mentioned my source and my views are simply my own, I think I'm in the clear. They excerpts are those that are in bold.


I don’t regret the painful times; I bear my scars as if they were medals. I know that freedom has a high price, as high as that of slavery; the only difference is that you pay with pleasure and a smile, even when that smile is dimmed by tears.

This reminded me of my first relationship. I was 18 and truly, deeply, madly in love. of course it ended badly. I was crushed to the tiniest bits. I could see, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't eat... I was broken. And I was alone. I did not have anyone to talk to who could understand me (I think I was more mature than most of my friends at that time so..). Endless nights I cried myself to sleep, praying for the hurt to go away. Alas, it did not. I even walked into traffic in town... A tad suicidal? That was the most idiotic thing I've ever done.

But that is my scar. There is another but I do not have the courage to share it now... The point is, this wasn't my end. Somehow I managed to rise above the hurt, the anger, the suicidal thoughts (?) and I rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Free to love and be loved again.

My heart might be bruised, but it will recover and become capable of seeing the beauty of life once more. It’s happened before, it will happen again, I’m sure. When someone leaves, it’s because someone else is about to arrive—I’ll find love again.

Forgive me if I seem to be talking too much about relationships. If you have read previous posts, you know I'm recently single. Yes it has been like a huge weight has been lifted from my heart but oh my! This new status has me in so much anxiety! Like Paulo says, when someone leaves it is because someone else is about to arrive. Am I ready? Am I strong enough? How Do I look Like? Am I funny, sensitive, ambitious, interesting enough for him to remain interested? Will he immediately notice my inadequacies as a human being, a woman, a lawyer? then Paulo wrote this;

Why do I have such frustrating relationships with men? I always feel like I have to be in a relationship and that means I have to be this fantastic, intelligent, sensitive, exceptional person. The effort of seduction forces me to give of my best and that helps me.

See how he's in my head? This is something Esther, the Zahir, said in this book. It was just before she left to go do some weird sort or self realization and quest for love. Maybe i should just give up on having any other relationship because for as long as these questions keep repeating themselves in my head, I wont be able to love (again).

What is love anyways?

Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused.

I can't even begin to tell you how confused this has me. If I relate it with my first love, I can totally understand but now... How do I know I'm in love? I know how it feels in my head, in my heart and on my body but if that is it then I've fallen in love with so many people! Aren't we promised just that One? Help me out.


But the day man learns to harness the energy of love, that will be as important as the discovery of fire.

Oh Paulo! If only you had a more direct answer. How the hell do I do something as majestic as discovering fire? I'm this insignificant (seemingly) entity. How then am I able to comprehend such!

I'm almost only half way through the book now. I hope I will find more definite answers to some of thew questions that I still have. I know many more will come up as I continue. I wonder what will become of my Zahir...

It seems I still have a long distance to cover before I reach Santiago.

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