Salutări din cotidian – Audierea

 

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Pășisem plină de emoții pe holul tribunalului, cu oarecare întârziere. Audierea era programată pentru ora 9, dar timpul îmi jucase o festă în dans cu coincidențele, și mă aruncase taman la celălalt capăt al Birminghamului, un soi de drumul mare pierdut într-o ceață de dimineață întunecoasă de decembrie. Șoferul autobuzului local, un tip asiatic, îmi confirmase amabil că zona se afla pe ruta lui, încurcând elegant prima parte a denumirii, cea în care menționasem un tribunal și nu un spital de boli mintale. Acum dacă privesc cu zâmbet toată aventura parcursă, mai că aș spune că niciodată nu este greșit să cazi perpendicular pe o coincidență.  Fapt dovedit câteva ore mai târziu. Toate se întâmplă cu un motiv.

Îmi repetam încă în gând, ca un fel de mantră, vorbele domoale ale doamnei ce mă ajutase să găsesc calea către tribunalul cu pricina. “Judecătorii sunt foarte amabili și vor înțelege că te-ai rătăcit. Nu trebuie să îți faci nici o grijă.”  Timpul bătuse constant pașii în dansul cu realitatea și mă aruncase într-o întârziere de o oră și jumătate. Holul instituției era deja ticsit de oameni. Diferite fețe, diferite culturi, diferite limbi se îmbinau într-o agitație cuminte, apăsătoare, dar plină de o stare ciudată, un soi de  amestec de optimism și exuberanță.

Intrasem cu o poveste adâncă pe umeri, hotărâtă să descătușez realitatea ce fusese scuipată în ochi de acuzațiile mincinoase ale domnișoarei Brown. Simțeam cum toate privirile celor ce așteptau nerăbdători scrutau  cam aceeași idee. Câte povești de dor și dezrădăcinare se ascundeau în lacrimile lor, doar divinitatea avea să știe.  Și câte domnișoare Brown se ascundeau mârșave după minciuni prefabricate în cuibul de viespi al unui Home Office, doar ei si  sistemele lor de conectare aveau să știe. Și aceeasi divinitate, bineînțeles. Un Home Office ce părea că își primește bonusuri glorioase pe spinarea suferinței umane. Un Home Office ce scrijelea cu gheare de vultur suflete inocente și le îmbiba apoi în ignoranță și rasism.

Raportasem timid la recepție că sosisem cu întârziere. Un domn între două vârste mă introduse în baza lor de date, între două zâmbete aruncate protocolar. Dar cu multă căldură umană. Parcă mă mai dezmorțisem de toată povara stresului în momentul în care m-a anunțat calm că sunt în timp.  Aveam apoi să mai petrec aproximativ o jumătate de oră în așteptarea “cazului”. Repetam în gând nume de persoane, străzi, orașe, universități. Ca înaintea unui examen.. Intuiția îmi spunea că era caraghios să fiu atât de prinsă de detalii, dar teama că o altă Brown ar putea născoci alte aiureli, mă determinase să vin cu lecțiile profund pregătite.  Și în timp ce  în sala de așteptare avocații își sfătuiau clienții, prindeam printre picături de gânduri,  bucăți de fraze în engleză amestecate cu toate limbile pământului. “Vă verifică toată social – media. Facebook. Twitter, LinkedIn.” Aflasem inainte aceasta, și un zâmbet interior mă învăluia amintindu-mi cum sufocasem poate cu disperare toți amicii cu postări evidente. Pakistan, vizite, impresii, călătorii. Pentru că de partea cealaltă se aflau ambasade, comisii de acreditare, de justificare, ofițeri, ministere.

***

Călăul se afla deja în sala de audiere. Cu o privire care nu exprima mai nimic, mă privise insistent. Postura domnișoarei Brown exprima parcă un fel de superioritate arbitrară. Părea convinsă că pionii sunt de partea ei. În câteva momente, judecătoarea își făcu apariția.  Mă privi cu gingășie. Din pricina emoțiilor nu deslușisem bine mesajul ascuns în căldura privirii, dar pe parcursul audierii,  îmi transmisese o puternică empatie umană.

 -Domnișoară Brown, înainte de a începe, vă rog să îmi aduceți înregistrările interviurilor. Sunt aduse acuzații grave.

-Madam, nu am fost pregătită pentru o astfel de cerință. Vă rog să îmi îngăduiți să sun la Home Office și să discut această problemă.

Pe privirea inexpresivă se așeză brusc o paloare agitată. Dispăru în grabă, cu pasul aplecat. Judecătoarea mă lămuri cu blândețe: “Te rog să fii relaxată. Ai întâmpinat greutăți. Am citit tot raportul pe care l-ai trimis curții. Aici împărțim dreptatea. Aici chiar și Home Office pierde, dacă este cazul,  în favoarea adevărului.”

Brown reveni mult mai palidă: “Madam, nu avem înregistrările. În ziua aceea a fost o problemă în sistem. Nu s-au putut înregistra convorbirile telefonice.”  Din privirea ironică a judecătoarei am ghicit că probabil aceasta era doar un alt joc ciudat al Home Office-ului. În timp ce schimbau între ele replici ce țineau de zona legii și a codului de procedură, mă întrebam neliniștită cum se va dovedi că fusesem abuzați. Treceam peste orice punte a tristeții, tot ceea ce îmi doream era să îmi lase soțul să vina acasă. Atât. Brown ieșise iar să își sune superiorii de la Home Office. Trebuia să se sfătuiască cu ei în ceea ce urma să se întâmple în proces.

Se terminase în notă optimistă. Fusesem interogată cu mult bun simț. Cu multă naturalețe și politețe. Documentele ce le trimisesem către curte, completa frumos dosarul. “Înainte de Anul Nou, soțul dvoastră va avea răspunsul curții”,  zise judecătoarea în timp ce privirea ei mă îmbrățișa cu căldură.   Brown mă privise cu un zâmbet timid. Îmi părea rău pentru ea. Pentru sufletul ei gri ce se pierdea printre viespi mizerabili. Probabil că strălucirea banului îi orbise umanitatea și o aruncase într-o cloacă a nesimțirii. Acolo unde firele bunului simț pierduseră orice conexiune cu realitatea.

***

Recapitulam timpii pierduți între proceduri, protocoale, ambasade. Recapitulam gânduri pe care le presarasem pe cale. Într-un septembrie dogoritor spusesem “Da” într-un mic birou al unui avocat, în centrul Islamabadului, în care un domn de la starea civilă consemna cununia legală.  În ianuarie, anul urmator, făcusem recurs la respingerea vizei. Abia pe 16 decembrie fusesem alocați cu o șansă de a ne juca cărțile. Trecuse un an peste noi, despărțiți de mări, pământ și mulțime de protocoale. Prima aniversare o trăisem online în fața computerului. Cu încurajarea că decembrie vine oricum peste noi la câteva luni distanță. Un decembrie în care aveam programare la audiere.  Pe 29, în aceeași lună, am primit vestea cea bună. Curtea ne dăduse câștig de cauză. Procedurile însă își urmaseră firesc cursul și doar în anul următor, pe 30 martie, aveam să trăim reîntregirea familiei.

Recapitulam toate ideile pe care le tocasem de-a lungul poveștii. Scriu nu pentru a mă victimiza. Știm că și noi am fost victimele sistemului. Scriu pentru că vreau să transmit speranța, să o dau mai departe, ca o făclie care poate lumina în cele mai adânci și întunecoase văgăuni. Am trăit momente groaznice, dar am cunoscut lumina. Iar pentru aceasta scriu cu tot sufletul. Îndrăzniți să iubiți!  Iubirea nu cunoaște continente. Iubirea cunoaște doar adevărul.Va fi greu, va fi cu multe proceduri, cu dureri de cap, picioare și mâini, va fi cu și mai multe dureri de suflet, dar nu va fi imposibil. Aveți încredere în dragoste!  Aveți încredere în umanitate! Aveti încredere în voi!

City-Headers

 

 

Being cheerful in hard times – I

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We, Romanians have a saying: be cheerful in hard times ( “a face haz de necaz”). In a way it’s part of our structure. In more ways even it’s part of my structure too. I would rather give a long laugh to any trouble. But sometimes I would scream a long crying out too. This last sentence highlighted quite more in the last 3 years… When a different adventure has started…

I have fallen in love. It happens in a normal way to all humans… It’s a great feeling and is worth it. The story of my love is quite interesting and many friends who know already about it encouraged me to write a book which could inspire others.

One day definitely I will start writing my own novel.  Not sure only if to inspire, even I want to bring as much hope as possible, but to make aware regarding some issues of our reality.  Till then I just walk through the whole path of immigration procedures, witnessing a Brexit which impacts vital aspects of our lives. Till then I just write my lines here, trying to point out peaks and valleys, while bullying and racism are still alive and are embracing each other in a stand against foreigners.

The great part is still by my side: my husband finally joined me in UK, about 7 month ago, after a long wait for family reunion ( 1 year and 7 months).  The sad part is written by procedures of a Home Office, which plays with people feelings and lives. The nightmare seems still carry on.

The other good part is that I love a lot my job. I am a Radiographer and I enjoy my work. The other sad part is the uncertainty of the new regulations regarding foreigners once Brexit will happen.

One great part takes place in our house too. My husband usually cooks for us delicious dinners. Enjoying them with a glass of wine sometimes, but all the time with a cheerful smile on our faces. Cause at the end of the day, we are still alive, we are together, we are happy.

Keep going for your dreams. While there is life, there is hope!

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Life’s Waltz

I  woke up that morning and saw
on other peculiar seconds
how dreams were dancing on floor.

They told to the walls to break away
while stars were embracing the game
and showed me the magical way.

In whispers I got kindly  charm
From all the wishes I thought
I lost them while passing the road.

I woke up that morning and felt like
a part of my heart has been hugged
In a dance of the grace with the angels.

Still shy and still looking for light
I stepped to follow my heart on that dance,
embracing the time, embracing the space.

I woke up that morning and now
We still are on dance with the stars
which color the tales like the fairies.

Three steps for a dream to become,
Three steps for the power to be,
I follow my heart on life’s waltz.

I woke up that morning to Me.

 

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The queue

Sincerity

Today we will stay in the queue
while embassy’s staff count on rules,
while nothing just plays to the roof
and brings up the hope to the blue. 

Today we will make up the queue.
Just six will be  allowed to breathe
each day, no more space, even seethe.
Just follow the nights till get to. 

Today we will spark In the queue.
The timing is beating with luck
while running the race over dark
will embassy’s door welcome through.

Today we may count in the queue
the hours we struggled for rights
while nobody cared for the lights
which faded and got people screw. 

Today  we  will seat  over queue 
while questions become rude to us, 
and love is accused being cuss
because dared and no borders drew. 

@Simona Prilogan

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I wanna go home

“I wanna go home”
is her name, her song, her tale.
while mind is  wandering  through
all her missing  space.
Memories spark on evenings
and eyes of time tears minutes away.

***

“I  wanna go home”
the angels are healing the wounds
and birds are singing between
the spaces. “Now” and “then” tightly dance
with childhood’s  fire  till become together
the last soldier of the flame.

***

“I wanna go home”,
the answer she whispers  too walls
while watches  the memories box
looking for her lost story inside.
Abandoned in silence, she steps
Backwards  in  peculiar sand.

***

“I wanna go home”
are crying minutes of hope
that  danced with faith and fall
behind of nights, behind of doors.
Another sweet dream may come to swing
the sadness.  Or find the way to home.

***

To Sylvia, who is looking for her way back to home while is aging abandoned in a care home by her loved ones.

“Who You Are Makes A Difference”

 

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high
school by telling them the difference they each made. Using a process
developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California, she called each
student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told them how
the student made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented
each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read,
“Who I Am Makes a Difference.”

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of
impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the
students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread
this acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the
results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a
week

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby
company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He
gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two
extra ribbons, and said, “We’re doing a class project on recognition, and
we’d like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue
ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a
third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please
report back to me and tell me what happened.”

Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been
noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss
down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative
genius. The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him
if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him
permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, “Well, sure.”
The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his
boss’s jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he
said, “Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and
pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave
me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this
recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people.”

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down.
He said, “The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my
office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired
me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He
thinks I’m a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says ‘Who
I Am Makes A Difference’ on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an
extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was
driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with
this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you.

“My days are really hectic and when I come home I don’t pay a lot of
attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough
grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow
tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do
make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most
important person in my life. You’re a great kid and I love you!”
The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn’t stop crying. His
whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears,
“I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn’t
think you loved me. Now I don’t need to.”

Helice Bridges  ( Chicken  Soup for the Soul) 

***

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“Shoes in Church”

A touching and inspirational poem by Leanne Freiberg
***
“I showered and shaved.
I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat
In a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer
As I closed my eyes.
I saw the shoe of the man next to me
Touching my own and I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side,
I thought, “Why must our soles touch?”
It bothered me. His shoe is touching mine
But it didn’t bother him much.
A prayer began: “Our Father”
I thought, “This man with the shoes has no pride.
They’re dusty, worn, and scratched.
Even worse, there are holes on the side!”
“Thank You for blessings,” the prayer went on.
The shoe man said a quiet “Amen.”
I tried to focus on the prayer
But my thoughts were on his shoes again.
Aren’t we supposed to look our best
When walking through that door?
“Well, this certainly isn’t it,”
I thought while glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended.
The songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud
Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters.
His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear
The shoe man’s voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering.
What I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached
Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out
What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft “clink”
As when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me
To tears and that’s no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man.
For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service
As is the custom here
We must greet new visitors
And show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow
And wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer
I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark.
His hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming
And being our guest.
He said, “My name is Charlie.
I’m glad to meet you, my friend.”
There were tears in his eyes
But he had a large, wide grin.
“Let me explain,” he said,
Wiping tears from his eyes,
“I’ve been coming here for months
And you’re the first to say ‘Hi.'”
“I know that my appearance
Is not like all the rest.
But I really do try
To always look my best.”
“I always clean and polish my shoes
Before my very long walk.
But by the time I get here
They’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.”
My heart filled with pain
And I swallowed to hide my tears
As he continued to apologize
For daring to sit so near.
He said, “When I get here
I know I must look a sight,
But I thought if I could touch you
Then maybe our souls might unite.”
I was silent for a moment
Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison.
I spoke from my heart, not my head.
“Oh, you’ve touched me,” I said,
“And taught me, in part
That the best of any man
Is what is found in his heart.”

The rest, I thought,
This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am
That his dirty old shoe touched my soul. 

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Source: Google Images

Behind of Thoughts

 

With Moon behind of thoughts,

With Sun in front of Hope, 

With Smiles embracing lots

Of wishes  made in  rope, 

While  dare the  life and cope. 

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Pakistan Monument, Islamabad, Pakistan

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Robin Hood and Maid Marian statue, Edwinstowe, United Kingdom

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Rome, Italy

 

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Nottingham Castle, Nottingham, United Kingdom

With shoulders made for kind

When rain is falling hard

Or crying is behind

Nor nothing is the guard,

The souls together  mind. 

 

Weekly photo challenge “Partners

Six Life Lessons I’ve Learned while Visiting the Elderly – By Michael Baker

Touching article…
The elderly people should enjoy their life in THEIR HOMES not in nursing homes… It is the saddest thing to see how these people are actually abused firstly by their families when they are taken away from their environment. It should be the common senses  which dictate in a family environment. Elderly people are not giving to the families a bad time, their are having a bad time. FAMILY should be their support. As they were ago when raised the children. Except those  who have only the community as support.
Thank you, Michael, for your article!

 

Kindness Blog

If someone had told me ten years ago that I would one day be volunteering at a nursing home, I wouldn’t have believed them.

In fact, my 26-year-old self would have responded with,

“Pffft, yeah right. Sitting around with a bunch of old people all day? I’d rather watch paint dry.”

Thankfully my mind has opened up since then. Once a week for about three hours, I do sit around with a bunch of old people, and you know what? I love it! I have made some unforgettable friends at the nursing home, enjoyed a ton of laughter, and gained more wisdom than I ever could have imagined.

I want to honor my elderly friends by sharing six life lessons I’ve learned while in their company.

1 – Love is the Best Gift of all

I was walking down the hallway one afternoon when I heard a familiar voice calling…

View original post 1,501 more words

“My only solace”

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My only solace are my tales
That wind brought to me in my dreams.
It drew pretty smiles on my face
And dug it so deep through the means.
***
My only solace are my tales
Which call me to reach on the night
The beauty of stars, the rhythm of the dance
Of angels while singing behind of the sight.
***
My only solace are my tales
That asked me embracing the light.
While faith overcoming the power of fake
Regard me on mornings and hug me so tight.

 

( https://simonaprill.com/2015/02/25/my-only-solace-2/ )

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Live your beautiful life! 

While there is life, there is hope! 

Weekly photo challenge: Abstract