My Nephew Masood Sayeed

Some of you have seen my nephew Masood’s posts and been to his blog (Thought in the Dark).

He has had a rough time since he was thirty nine years old, with heart problems. That’s when he had his first MI. That was in 2001. Since then he has had two CABGs (open heart surgeries). Recently, I think in November he had problem with rhythm and rate and the surgeons tried to put an Intra Cardiac Device to correct the rhythm, in case the ventricles went erratic and threatened to stop, then the ICD would take over and give it a kick start. They were able to get the leads into two of his coronaries but the third one was not accessible.

Therefore, this past Thursday, Masood was attended by a prominent cardio thoracic surgeon who operated on him and was able to place the ICD with the leads properly. (I am making it sound simple) He had to have a couple of ribs cracked to approach the heart and the blood vessels.

The first twenty four hours were tense with severe pain almost uncontrollable with morphine and Oxycodone. But since yesterday afternoon, he stabilized well, and by God’s grace he was discharged to home this morning.

If it weren’t for my horrible bronchitis and laryngitis with congestion I would have been there by him. Was in touch with his wife the whole time. I thank God that he has such a fine person taking care of him. I know he had written about his impending surgery on his blog. I appreciate your kind thoughts and prayers, and request that you continue to hold him in your thoughts, please.

His little pooch and the cats were apparently ecstatic to see him today. I am sure he will post something on his blog once he is up to it.

Love.

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Summer Rain

I had written this a couple or three years ago. Going through my archives I came across this, and decided to let you read it. May be you have already read it…. but that’s okay, right? Read it again why don’t you.

It has been raining in Quincy for so many days. The weather reminds me of the days in 1993 when the levy was breached and the town was flooded. This time, the rains come in spurts, heavy deluge that makes you stop and take a look at the world outside; and at other times, it is soft continuous pitter patter and the heart sings to the tune of these drops falling on the broad leaves of the trees, mixed with the rumble of soft thunder.

I shut the engine of my car on the way home,
roll down the windows a little and listen to the rhythm
and music of the rain on the roof of the car,
while my heart sang with the rain.

I close my eyes, and see me seventy years earlier
running out of the house, bare feet, hair flying
around my face, my arms stretched
sticking my tongue out, so I could taste rain;

The drops of rain roll down along the windows
and the intense desire takes over— I want
to touch this rain; I want the hair to get drenched again.

I open the door and get out; the rain drops bathe my face;
they take my breath away.
I stand there, and realize that there are tears in my eyes.
I pretend to wipe the wind-shield, and see a squad car pull up behind

An officer gets out of his patrol car, all dressed up in rain gear,
“Is there a problem doctor? Do you need a ride home?”
I look at his rain clothes, and say, “No thank you! I had to get out of the car,

just so I could once again feel the rain, like I did when I was at home

Seven decades ago!!”©

Zakiah.

 

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hello

I hope you all missed me. I sure missed me here on these pages. The bronchitis is finally trying to say goodbye. The hoarseness of the voice and the raspy sound is still aggravating. It gets worse when I talk too much. Mother always said I talked too much and that I should shut up and stay shut up as much as possible. Such wise words such a long time ago!

My daughter in law’s mother lives in the western suburbs of Chicago. The boys absolutely love to go over and visit for a few days with her. They each have their own rooms. I came to know that she is doing up little Zain’s room in animal prints or something like that. She saw a paining I had done of a cheetah crouching in the bushes and wanted it for his room. It was too small, so I painted a larger one and will mail it to her on Monday.

IMG_7523

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In other news, I have sent the manuscript for my new book away to be published. FINALLY! I am trying to edit some punctuations and what not per their advise. They have done the assessment and have put little red marks in the various punctuation areas. some of them I think I know, like, put a comma there, or get rid of this comma etc. But then there are tiny colon marks with dash and commas up and down the colon. Does any one know what that means? I have to probably wait till Monday to call them ask them what the heck they mean.

Anyway, I am happy the book is ready to be published. I hope I will be able to sell it like it did the first one. Thank you all for all the support you have given me through thick and thin. Love you all.

“I wish I could show you when you are lonely
or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being”———Hafez.

ciao~

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Masood Sayeed

I have a nephew. Actually I have many nephews, but this nephew Masood Sayeed is my brother’s son, and lives in Denver. Many years ago, I had posted on xanga about him and how at 39 years of age he had an MI, and I had left the office for the airport without money or clothes, which my daughter had packed and rushed to the airport with. Anyway, this same nephew has started writing on WP.

Wonder of wonders you say?

Hunh! This kid, is my brother’s only son, and the carrier of the Sayeed name. He is a great writer, and a voracious reader. Always has been. I love the way he writes; simple, eclectic with a wide range of knowledge, and full of diverse ideas.

He is retired now due to health issues and because he has sold his company, he is just enjoying life with his amazing wife who loves him with a passion. I have been forcing him to start writing, anything and everything, and he has finally come around to it. As I have done in the past, on Xanga and on WP, I am giving a shout out to my nephew Masood. I want my readers and others to please check his web site out and follow him and leave your comments.

Will talk more about him later. Here is his link.

Bob Seger

ciao for now.

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What is wrong, man?

There’s a guy sitting at a bar, just looking at his drink. He stays like that for half an hour.

Soon, a big trouble-making truck driver steps next to him takes the drink from the guy and just drinks it all down.

The poor man starts crying.

The truck driver says, “Come on man, I was just joking. Here, I’ll buy you another drink. I just can’t stand seeing a man crying.”

joke drunk depressed man at bar

“No, it’s not that. This day is the worst of my life. First, I fall asleep, and I’m late to the office. My boss, in an outrage, fires me. When I leave the building to my car, I found out it was stolen.”

“The police say they can do nothing. I get a cab to return home and when I leave it, I remember I left my wallet and credit cards there. The cab driver just drives away. I go home and when I get there, I find my wife in bed with the gardener. I leave home and come to this bar.”

“And when I was thinking about putting an end to my life, you show up and drank my poison.”

 

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Gentle Drivers

Before you all start looking down at my post here, and start snickering, let me tell you a few things.
I am a very good driver. I have never had an accident, (thank God, and don’t plan in having one, Insha’Allah). The mister in my home has had some fender benders, well, maybe not some, but at least two or was it three. If you ask him about it, he will look at you like you are joking!
He is a cautious driver. NO DOUBT about that. In a 30 mile zone, he will go as fast as twenty miles, and say “I hope there is no chaacha sitting around the bend with his radar on”! I never bother to criticize him, because it is no use. If I tell him, “Ok, let’s put foot to the pedal mister, we needed to be at that place about ten minutes ago!” He looks at me and says, “Don’t hurry me. I want to arrive there in one piece!”
And this is a small town!
When he is sitting in my car and I am at the wheel, I am very careful not to ruffle his feathers. While getting out of the garage, and before I hit the drive way, I see him turning right and left and right and left again! I tell him that I am still in the garage and he doesn’t have to be so stressed so soon. He pretends his neck was bothering him and that’s why he was looking around. Then I pull into the drive way, and I hear, “daek ko, daek ko!” I look at him and ask, “Look where?” he says, “No, I just wanted you to be careful as you pull out on to the road.”
We live in a secluded area where the only traffic is from our own car or my daughter’s car from six houses down or an occasional neighbor. I smile at him and keep staring at him with my eyebrow cocked up? He has a flat line to his lips!
We get on the road, and his right hand immediately grabs the ‘oh s**t handle’ above his door. I ask him, what was happening? He tells me oh nothing, I just want you to drive carefully—and I haven’t even reached the end of our street to join the main road yet.
Ohhhhh! What can I say?
Once on the road, if I go 32 to 35 miles in a 30 mile zone, mister starts whining, ‘ummmm, Zakiah, you drive too fast.’ I tell him not to look at the road or the speedometer, (which he does often) and to look out the window. And if there is a car about half a block ahead of us, he starts pumping his foot on the floor, as if he is applying the break, or he thinks I am blind and cannot see ahead of me, or am driving with a blindfold on. You should see the floor of my car on the passenger side! Again I look at him and when he looks at me, I look at his foot. He then yells, “God, Zakiah, pay attention. Don’t take your eyes off the road!”
Fifty plus years! Fifty frikkin plus years of this passenger side shenanigans! What do you do?
So now, we go to the same place in two different cars (often). I hear my ghazals in my car, he listens to fast Bollywood music in his car.
Do you all have backseat or passenger seat drivers in your cars?
Please don’t tell me women drivers are not good! Majority of them are better drivers than their spouses, me thinks.
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Nostalgia

It has been raining since yesterday. We’ve had monstrous thunderstorms, with heavy lightning and hail the size of golf balls!! Almost that size!! It is so damp! Even though the temperatures are in the forties, it is so dang damp, and the old bones are complaining.
I remember when the Monsoon would arrive at home, the eagerness with which we would run outside the house, to feel the first drops of rain on our tongues, and smell the raw edible fragrance of the earth. I would shake my head free of the braid and let the hair fall every which way, and on my face, and let everyone shout at me, I was without a care.  Grandmother who was not as strict as mother, would call out to me and say, “Zakiah, you better come inside the house. You shouldn’t be looking at the lightning with your naked eyes.” I would wonder what she meant by that. Naked eyes!! She told me the reason of her reprimand.
My hair, when I was young, was very light brown and gradually became dark and black. I was the only one with hair like that. Apparently very few girls had hair of that color. “There are spirits all over the place when the lightning strikes. They see a young girl with hair like yours, and they whisk you away to a far off place and get you married to a prince in a distant land!” That was grandmother’s explanation of the reprimand.  I believed her for the longest time. She was an incredible woman who would spin stories out of cobwebs and grains of sand one day, and philosophize about Rumi and Iqbal and Ghalib another day!
Beautiful nostalgia, sweet dreams of the past, they all come helter-skelter at the slightest change in the daily routine of my life. I am not sure if I miss my mother as much as I miss my grandmother. She was a role model. She used to make me smile. She left an emptiness in my heart when she stopped breathing.  She was generous as the river, bountiful as the sun, and truly, hospitable as the earth!
Weaving these dreams in the windDrops of steady rain against the window pane
Single note of a broken string
Hidden melody!
My new earth
My new sky
A million desires away
From my old earth and
My old sky!
Tying the knots of frayed dreams
Weaving in and out of the circles of wind
Echoes within the emptiness
Of an old heart!
Zakiah
{The above was written a couple of years back. Right now, it is not raining. It is snowing… God! how it is snowing!!
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