Sunday, August 31, 2008

Tell Me Whom Am I

~ Tell Me ~

Tell me who am I
Is it just a face with no brain
Or an intellect with no fame
Heart beats softly
But at times why am I so cruel
How could I be human filled with hate
Or am I a tiny girl, a creature to live
Where do I stand on page of fate
Can it be okay for a girl to cry
Or is essential to hide and fake
Maybe there is no ground falling in pain
Despite all, she a little girl
Taking many steps on a journey of search

I can not tell which year this poem was written but was written as I was growing, it seems poetry was the searching voice for me, an urge of finding who am I. My name is Nasra Abdul Rahman Mohammed born in island called Pemba from Tanzanian father and an Omani mother. I call myself a dreamer as an only child I recall my childhood began in small emirates called Ras Al Khaimah… There it was my beginning searching for where I belong, I can not recall when and how my parents got divorced but I just knew that my mother had gone back home to Oman and circumstances I was left with my father. At that time he felt that I'm so young I need more care so he got married again with a lovely women who I owe her being the person I'm now, her love and care truly transformed me. She was originally from Yemen. So I had many nationalities when I was growing one day I'm Omani, other days I'm Zanzibarian, and some days I'm Yemeni. I was taught Quran at home and as I reached six I was enrolled in Government School.

The first poetic thought (Khwater) was written while I was visiting my Aunt who lived in Al Buraimi during holidays, I had cousin who had disability, so I wrote a thought on having challenges. At that moment my dream was to be a poet and work with children who have disabilities (Children with special needs). My growing up was tremendously enriched with holidays to visit my mother in Oman or Buriami, in addition my father wanted me to know about Zanzibar and made sure to take me there to visit my grandparents from my mother who remained in Africa.

Writing was my gateway, I would write on every piece of paper that I can find and while I was growing up even in recipe books my poetry would be written with biggest dream that I will stand in front of the crowd reciting without fear on a night titled Talent With Purpose dedicating the night for fund raising for those who are less fortunate than us or compile all of my poems and when I die my poetry will be discovered. Cooking would be a task mixed with poetry writing …I really enjoyed being in the kitchen dreaming away, that was the reason when I was in high school I chose to go for Art subjects, in addition physics was a foreign language to me. Back then, my family moved to Dubai, for the first time I realized how Ras Al Khaimah was breathtaking, as our home was just in front of the beach and my dad before going to work would start his day swimming. I missed the wind blowing with the sea.

High school seemed to be a new world for me, I was living with my brother from my father side. Oh I did not mention my father had first wife before he married my mother so I had brothers and sisters who are at the same age of my mother. It was a new environment for me, having nieces and nephews who were same age group as me, all were studying in private English schools. I realized that my English was not at the same level as theirs and I had incident at school where I was bullied at school, I decided I'm going to write my poetry thoughts in English. With having our first computer at home, it was so exciting for all wanting to do our homework or as for me to write my poems with on the computer. My English was still not as good as my nieces and nephews, I felt somehow left out, so I began to read as much books as I can get. Taking English course at British Council helped me also to see my flaws and there it was time for graduation from high school with a dream to go to university but I did not want to become a financial burden on my brother so I opted to correspondence course taking Montessori Teaching Special Needs allowing me to study at home and in meantime I became a young volunteer at Al Noor Training Centre for Handicapped Children. Working with children it was amazing. My day begins with a hug and it ends with hugs. On the side of poetry I was writing and sharing with one of my nieces who also had passion for poetry and I started searching for forums to submit my poetry. Poetry also was personalized gifts that I would present my family with.

The decision to move to Oman to be with my mother and to know my sisters from my mother side had opened me up a new horizon for me. My first book I owe to my mother so I got my self a pen name Nasra Al Adawi, as my mother's prayers had took me through hard times.

~A Woman She is~

So he asked who she is
She stood there inhaling
What must be?
A moment of truth
Then she plunged with deep breath thinking
“Who am I?”
The words repeated to her in a self form
Lightening of thoughts passed by
Then ancient scripture appeared in bold
She ended her pause
To answer back in an only way she knows
In a women affirmation voice
Standing against gravity of earth
And boldly said:
I’m all woman
A woman
Ancient in Hieroglyphic Transcripts
A Cleopatra underlined in history
I'm Cleopatra
In a mountain stand
Creating a history of today
With my hands that dig the path of tomorrow
Learning through my weakness to engrave this path
I’m a female scribbled with many emotions,
I’m intelligence sculptured in curves,
A statement of womanhood
I’m not here to stand in man’s shoes
Here is the fountain that bears all nations
Yes there times where I get trapped in claws of lion,
But I’m woman who knows no defeat
For there is no ground to fall, as I chooses to stand
Despite my trembling knees
I conquer my fate
A woman who creates her own destiny

Copyright 2007 Nasra Al Adawi



Reference

Please link http://iamnasra.blogspot.com/2006/08/once-it-was-just-dream.html

4 Comments:

Blogger Angel Feathers Tickle Me said...

You are wonderful...

and so I added you...

1:43 PM  
Blogger mystic rose said...

You are not a wannabe poet, you are a poet. powerful. very.

4:50 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

being a poet is worth everything

11:50 AM  
Anonymous mystic rose said...

I loved reading the story of your childhood. and your hunger to write. very powerful poems.

11:29 AM  

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