Love and other splendid things.

Part time Shutterbug, Full time Muslimah

myfighter-plane:

theboredphish:

la-edicius:

This is the complete list of the passengers on board MH370.

239 people. 239 stories. 239 lives that have disappeared into a mist of void.

Lost.

I try to imagine what it must be like to be consumed by space. Eaten by vacuum. Swallowed into the clouds. To sit beside your loved one’s and know it’s time to say your goodbyes. To look them in the eye and try to blink away the fear.

The tremble.

The tears. 

To not know if there is a reassurance or what to reassure of. To think of the trail you left behind and how quickly it disappeared.

You are the trail now.

Disappearing.

What must it feel like to disappear?

Sealing your eyes and being too afraid to open them in case reality glooms before you. Clenching your fists too tight and yet…

yet it’s all too real. And you are everything dark and everything white. Because both things have the ability to engulf you in its colour. 

The fuel is running out and so is your time. And you don’t know anymore where to find comfort. Who to comfort. How to comfort. 

And prayers turn your words into muffled cries and words drown themselves inside you trying to find a place to hide

but you?

You wait. You wait and you wish for it to end soon. 

Someone asks you to stay seated but you are already too far into the air. You wonder about the birds. Maybe they grew wings out of the desperation to land safely. You pray for a miracle and it’s that terrifying realisation that even angels have wings and maybe it’s them who will steal the souls and carry to the heavens above…

The plane is doing a dance of its own kind. It wobbles and shakes and you catch its rhythm. Follow its lead and this only distracts you for a moment.

So many places you wanted to see. So many books you wanted to read. So many things had yet to be and its all gone now. In that moment of frenzy its all gone. Like you.

You look across the aisle and see such beautiful people who you may have never met before and would never get the chance to know again. There is unity in your pain.

You are sharing the same fate. Whatever it may be.

A child cries for their mother’s attention who is hollowed by the shock of the situation but she turns her head towards the child with a smile plastered through her tears.

Asks them to sit quietly. We will be home soon. 

And in that moment she memorises their features. The eyes that remind her of her childhood. The smile that reminds her of her husband. The voice that she didn’t get much of to hear. She tries to freeze time and to capture the small details. Tries to remember what it was like to be a mother. A daughter. A sister. A wife. What it was like to be alive…

An old couple holds hands in the seat before you and look at each other as if they hadn’t done this in the past 50 years. They are content. They are happy to be here together. He kisses her forehead, out of habit or concern you don’t know. But its beautiful. His trembling lips leave back traces on her skin of every happiness they lived together. She rests her head on his shoulder and they wait together like everything else they did in the company of each other.

Worried faces.

Half finished sentences.

Incomplete thoughts. 

And you are speeding further into the distance. Lost forever. Marked into the memories of people. 

I try to imagine what it must be like to be them. To be in their place but I can’t. I can’t imagine what it must be like to disappear and not know if you will ever return back.

Please keep them in your prayers along with their family members. It must be the hardest time for them. May they find peace and closure. 

My heart..

This is heartbreaking. May the souls find peace now that their stories have an ending, albeit a tragic one at that. You who were lost, and now found. At least now, now there is closure.

(via nazry)

itstonybetch:

How Christina Aguilera singes lullabies to her children

OMG THE BABY’S FACE!

(via repllicunt)

Often, we search and travel the world to find something worth living for, only to return and find it at home.