Neverland

I have always had this fascination with the concept of 'Neverland' and the character of Peter Pan- the boy who never grew up. But what does it mean to really grow up? Responsibilities? Do we see the world differently? Do we really become cynics? What I do know is that suddenly the world seems far too big to conquer and change. 

I feel that there is a child within all of us- that wants to believe in so much more than what seems to exist in front of them. That restlessness, unable to stay still because there is just too much to do, that freedom which suddenly disappears--I don't know how or when that was stolen from me. 

Does the voice inside our head ever acknowledge our age, our inability to move around as we once did, the way that the world perceives us? I am not sure it does--that voice, our thoughts, our conscience does not age does it? It simply alters its views or standing on certain issues.

When I think of 'Neverland', I think of my childhood. Everything seems more beautiful in hindsight. I thought that with my own children I would be able to re-live elements of my childhood. And of course, to an extent this is true but children have no inhibitions, nothing holding them back, you give them wings and they certainly will fly. 

I grew up and I didn't even realise it. I still feel like a child with two kids, but I stopped being a child a very long time ago. There is no going back to Neverland--only the chance to let my children enjoy their childhood and gain the most from a time that never comes back. 


I started this blog to tell a story of what once was, but I want to share with you more than just the past.....

Blazing Zed

I arrived at Nani's house after school and Bulu was jumping up and down shouting "we have a little sister, we have a little sister". How could I have a sister, if Maa still had 3 months to go before the baby arrives?

The night before, Maa had been rushed to hospital. Baba had flown to Desh for Chacha's wedding. The timing could not have been worse, but I guess Blazing Zed couldn't contain her excitement. She was probably impatient in Maa's tummy and wanted to get out and see the world as soon as possible.

I can just imagine her sitting there in her little "woom" drumming away and talking to herself in that high pitched voice of hers "oooh whats this long tube coming out of my belly button. ooh this is like soooo cool. i have like never been in something like this before. its like my own little spaceship. oh what an interesting uterus, oh look at my little hands and feet, i wonder if my family will like my hands and feet. oh no what if they don't like me and what if i don't like them. i'll have to be extra loveable and like always hug and kiss everyone and compliment everyone so that they love me more. i mean because if you show love, you receive love, right? you know, right? oh gosh, i am very boring. i wish i had someone to talk though because i need everyone to listen to me and hear what i have to say. right time to get out of here. ready or not, here i come."

Blazing Zed had no idea how little she really was and was stuck in the intensive care unit for 3 months. We would go to see her everyday at Whittington Hospital. I still remember the smell of the soap we'd wash our hands with and the unit that she stayed in. She was a little fighter, she fought for her right to live and she won. And we were crazy about her from the moment she came into this world until she drove us crazy once she learnt to speak.

Maa had gone through so much during and after the birth of Blazing Zed. To this day, I do not understand how she coped both physically and emotionally. I guess because we were blessed with a miracle baby.

When I think of little Em's life inside me, I am left in awe. The first time I felt her kick it was incredible (and painful). I did not allow myself to get excited during my pregnancy as I was in constant fear of the worst. During my pregnancy I felt so far from Neverland. I was too weak (and too heavy) to fly anywhere. My first few months consisted of vomiting, vomiting and more vomiting. My Boo took good care of me, as did Maa, Nani and Blazing Zed. Maa would make me the best food ever, Nani took care of me when I was at my worst I literally couldn't move. Blazing Zed endured my every-changing emotions, and tolerated my screaming for food and anything else I wanted or didn't want.

It may have been the 9 most difficult months of my life; but subhanAllah when my little Em was born she took my breath away. I instantly forgot the difficulties that had preceded the moment of her birth. And I waited to live in Neverland again with her.

My little Em turned 1 two days ago. And Blazing Zed is now 16 years old. After hardship comes ease, little Em is my ease. I am sure that Blazing Zed will always remain Maa's ease because when you look at her-- you remember the toughest time in your life and you realise that Allah gave you the strength to work through it.

First of Many

"When you start to fall towards your left, turn the bike to the right." Nana probably repeated this twenty times before I was cycling without his help.

My first bike, a pink one that Baba bought me from Canada. We each had our own mini vehicles to master- I had my bike, Red had a skateboard, Carl had a pair of huge rollerblades and Bulu had her little feet. All eyes were on my bike, and Red learnt to ride it first. He didn't care that it was a girl's bike. He was on a mission and no one was going to get in his way, not even his own inability to balance on this two-wheeled thing. I didn't hide my utter disappointment in how quickly he mastered it, I mean it was my bike!! He had a skateboard and the rollerblades fit him perfectly.

Once our training was complete in the back garden, we were ready for the real world. The entire length of Harold Road; and if we were being extra adventurous we would even ride down Glebe Road. I would always be ahead of the rest. Red soon learnt to travel with wheels for feet, and little Carl was as fast as Marty McFly on that blue skateboard, and Bulu would be running after us. Sometimes she'd be on my bike with me. We were the Patrol-Kids of the Harold Road district. No one would dare to interfere with what we were doing, except when dinner was ready and Nani was ready with her wooden spoon. Need I say anymore?

Those initial weeks of learning, struggling, falling, practising made us all stronger and more determined to see it through to the end. I feel like I am re-living those emotions and frustrations through my little Em who would rather be sitting and reaching, standing and reaching than crawling. She hates nothing more than being left on her tummy with her favourite toy just out of reach. She tries but very easily gives up and lays her little head on the carpet. She then lifts her head and looks for something which is within her reach. I hate to see her like this for too long and so I sweep her up and make her stand for a while. When she is standing, her face gleams with utter happiness. I love seeing her face light up like that and when she smiles at me as if to say, "look Mummy I can stand just like you", my heart melts.

Today she stood on the sofa, and although I was sitting next to her, I was a little distracted. Suddenly, I hear her struggling, I turn around to find her slowly sliding down. The poor thing was trying to pull herself back up but her arms aren't strong enough yet.

Now its a matter of her learning to stand unsupported and also learn to stand up from a sitting position. It can't be that easy being a baby. Of course you don't have to do much, but you have so much to learn within a year or two. Talk about pressure!!



This is life. It is a balancing act. Balancing. Balancing on your feet, balancing on your bike, balancing priorities, and more balancing.

Prologue

I am not sure where to start, as life as we know it is not merely a culmination of moments we witness, remember and ponder over; but is hugely impacted by those who bring us up and how they were brought up. So, really, who we are and what we understand of the world is so much deeper than just what we go through as an individual.

I guess I'll start somewhere in the middle of what I remember. For me, life started in Neverland. A place where you don't need wings to fly, where you can be whatever you want to be, where you can change your mind a million times and where there is so much to do and yet very little to get done. I wish I could tell you that Neverland was perfect, but it wasn't. There were a lot of scary things, scary people and scary creatures. And you definitely had to be careful not to disturb the 'peace' which existed between our world and the real world.

Most of the time, we were safe-my brothers, my cousin and I. We would fly through the clouds like we were Superman. There was nothing we could not do, we pretty much ruled Neverland. But as the sunset; we had to hide from the evil creatures of the real world. We were safe though, protected even one may say-by the 'guardians' of the real world. But I'll go into that later.

I often ponder over the concept of Neverland, and am intrigued by the character of Peter Pan and what I believe he represents-a constant struggle with the elements of time, ageing and ultimately death. He is that child inside us that never wants to grow up, that free restless spirit which has no limits. I used to think that I had lost Neverland but I quickly came to realise that you can go back there as a grown-up--your children will take you back. Its up to you to let them....