Wouldn’t it be nice?

It has been over a month since I last posted here.  I am much better. I feel like me again.

I have left that old job behind, and it was like something snapped. This coincided with me going back to university, to my university, which is a place I absolutely love (nerd alert). I have started my PhD, and boy, I have a long, long journey ahead.

Today I am happy, but wistful. Very wistful. I find myself listening, singing and humming to Wouldn’t It Be Nice, by the Beach Boys, over and over and over again.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long…

I constantly talk to The Hubby about how our lives are just starting.  I am 24, and he is 27. I have just started a PhD and he is working and studying so hard for his career. We have so much ahead of us. So much to do. so much to live. I am excited about all this.

But sometimes I get wistful. I think to myself, wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long to have careers, to be able to afford ballet and football tickets, to be able to help our parents.

To have less of our current worries, and to have a whole new set of worries.

To have a family.

And wouldn’t it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong…

Our friends are light-years ahead of us. Or so it seems sometimes. They earn much more, don’t need to pay for an expensive education, can afford mortgages, expensively huge weddings, and they are planning on having children soon.

We can’t have any of that. Not yet anyway.

We made different choices about our lives, and we are both working hard to achieve our dreams. But wouldn’t it be nice if we were already there? We could then have new dreams.

I think about the kind of world where we belong, our future careers, home and family.

Maybe if we think, and wish, and hope, and pray, it might come true..

I have recently found out I have a condition that renders me, shall we say, less fertile than the average woman. But our future has children in it. We have always wanted to adopt. It was one of the first things we talked about.

Our future home will be small, cramped and messy. But it will be happy, warm and full of love. Our kids may be tripping over their toys and books, sleeping on top of each other and there may only be frozen soup for dinner (I am a terrible cook). But we will all be together.

You know it seems the more we talk about it, it only makes it worse to live without it.

But let’s talk about it.

I guess everyone gets like this sometimes, it is not so much mindless ‘what ifs’, but hopeful, happy dreams for the future.

One day, hopefully we will get there. And the present is also happy.We  are finally getting married in a few months, I have started my PhD,  The Hubby is also progr. Everything feels like steps in our journey.

But sometimes, it would be nice to be already there, Wouldn’t it?

 


A Prayer for London

This is not about ballet,  but I am so saddened, worried, on edge and frankly scared about what has been happening in the past week. I need to get it out of my system.

It is difficult to write about this. My neighbourhood was quite affected by the London Riots, but it was nothing compared to other areas such as Hackney, Tottenham and Croydon. I don’t want to exaggerate anything.

Local shops were looted, gutted, and burned to the ground. People have lost their jobs. The whole community is tense and scared. These have been difficult days for a lot of people.

And yet, some media outlets and some people have been pushing the idea that these issues are somehow to do with race, immigration and the so-called ‘failure’ of multiculturalism. The situation in Tottenham that sparked this is race-related only in the sense of institutional racism and strained relationships between the Police and the black community. This is the only racial side.

I have just been reading on The Guardian that the EDL have been ‘protesting’ in north London. The BNP have called for ‘a day of action’ on Saturday. They are trying to exploit the horrible events of the last few days to push their prejudiced and dangerous agenda. Please do not let this happen.

I love London for many reasons, but the chief reason is this:

In London, you never feel like a foreigner. You always feel like you are home.

I love the diversity, the sheer passion of the people and the life that pulsates out of this city. Here, you are always home.

Yesterday, three young men died in Birmigham. Their deaths are being treated as murder. The father of one of them, Mr. Tariq Jahan spoke to the media earlier today. What did he say? He asked for calm. He asked for peace.

He said: “I lost my son today. Please step forward if you also want to lose a son tonight”.

He was asked by reporters if he blamed the police, the government, young people. He responded:

“I am a Muslim. I don’t blame anyone. I believe in Allah and destiny. I pray for forgiveness. I pray for Allah to bless my son”.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAXv5CRocvg

This man is heartbroken. His son was murdered less than 24 hours before that, and he was standing tall, dignified, eloquent, with a heartfelt plea for piece. He is a Muslim. He is Asian.  And he is British.

I cannot think about him without crying. His picture is everywhere now. As it should be. With all this madness going on, it is so important that this man is heard.

I am not a Muslim, but I am praying tonight. I am praying that peace will prevail, that things will get better, and I am also saying my thanks. Thanks that I am safe, that those I love are safe, that there have been very few deaths and I am also grateful, from the bottom of my heart, that people like Mr. Jahan have a platform. They are the best this country has to offer.