Stories in my veins.

Today, I was chatting with a friend of mine when I had to look down at the keyboard searching for a number. I don’t usually need to search around for letters but today I did and that’s not the case. I noticed my wrist, hands, not so thin but long fingers and my fair soft skin covering my flesh. I gazed at my veins stream, which are probably not popped out enough for me to recognized them, and then the image of my Grandma’s (May her pure soul rest in peace) hands vividly stroke my mind. I remembered how veiny and shaky her hands were. They were all full of light brown spots and ageing freckles.

It amuses me how things change with no remarkable transition stage. I am almost 19 and I didn’t know the back of my hands so well, and I probably can’t remember how it looked like when I was six. I never noticed although I wish I had. It’s amusing how skin can scan the age in such a divine way. I know I am just talking about the skin of the hands now, let away the face, its marks, wrinkles and scars. Sub7an Allah.

For this reason, I decided to keep a picture of my hands for I will compare it to my age-old-hands many many years from now only if I am meant to live for long enough. Maybe I will see my youth days rushing through my bloody veins, and maybe I will memorise the conversation I had with my bestfriend and the reason behind the picture. Who knows?

Comments

احداث كلية هندسة من يوم 28 نوفمبر حتي 10 ديسمبر.

بعد تطوّر الاحداث في كلية هندسة القاهرة قررت اني هاحكي كل حاجة بالتفاصيل لتوضيح الامر تماما. منذ بداية العام الدراسي و دايما كان بيكون فيه مظاهرات صغيرة عددها 100تقريبا (لم اتقن العد) داخل الجامعة تهتف ضد حكم العسكر و مؤيدة لرابعة. ماكنش بيكون فيه اي مشاكل و لا اشتباكات داخل هندسة مع العلم ان كان فيه ايام بيكون فيه برّة عند مسلّة جامعة القاهرة اشتباكات بس كانت مش بتدوم طويلا. يوم الخميس 28 نوفمبر, كان فيه وقفة كبيرة برّة عند جامعة القاهرة و كان الطلبة اللي عاملين مسيرة جوة هندسة واقفيت عند الباب الرئيسي لكلية هندسة الذي اُغلق امامهم لمنعهم من الخروج عند المسيرة الاكبر و ربما اغلقه الامن الجامعي لسلامة الطلاب لشدة الاشتباكات في الخارج. الطلبة ظلّوا يريدون فتح الباب و الخروج مع العلم ان الباب الخلفي عند مبني اعدادي كان ايضا مغلقا لموقعه جانب كمين الداخلية و دبابات الجيش المحيطة بالجامعة. تك القاء اول قنبلة غاز داخل كلية هندسة و اصدمت بمدني الادارة الموجود امام الباب الرئيسي تماما و تم القاء القنبلة الثانية و تطايرت بعيدا تماما عن مكان الطلبة المتجمعين عند الباب الرئيسي لتستقر امام...

11 Types of Students you meet at CUFE.

Disclaimer: This post is for fun purpose, so you guys don't take it seriously. It is all about generalizing and no one is particularly targeted. 1- AIESEC Fanatics: They think they are the coolest people taking part in the most cool extracurricular activity. They MUST, I repeat, they must be wearing those lousy aiesec bracelets. They try too hard to look like a badass group specially when it comes to standing at their booth. 2- The Nerd-Extremist There are plenty of this type. Almost everyone in CUFE (Except me ofc). Students from this type would never let their GPA drop less than 4.0 or 3.9. Getting 3.89999999999999 might lead them to some suicidal acts or self-harm. They never skip a class and never leave a lost mark in a quiz unquestioned. 3-The top student-wanna-be These usually have a low IQ, but they are so pretentious. They stick to the nerds' asses and try too hard to befriend them. They never skip lectures,bytlaza2o fel drs w el TAs without mercy,...

Charlie's poem from Perks of being a wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines he wrote a poem And he called it "Chops" because that was the name of his dog And that's what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and a gold star And his mother hung it on the kitchen door and read it to his aunts That was the year Father Tracy took all the kids to the zoo And he let them sing on the bus And his little sister was born with tiny toenails and no hair And his mother and father kissed a lot And the girl around the corner sent him a Valentine signed with a row of X's and he had to ask his father what the X's meant And his father always tucked him in bed at night And was always there to do it Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines he wrote a poem And he called it "Autumn" because that was the name of the season And that's what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and asked him to write more clearly And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because of it...

The Cairene

Search This Blog