Fieldnotes on Humanity

It was last year at this time of the year; I was torn apart with the grief and sorrow at my mom’s death . I was at school when I heard she passed away. That night, I was left in shock and couldn't recover for a long time. The grief was heavy on my shoulders as I was away from home.  It was fall semester and I experienced a grievous loss. I didn’t tell anyone why I was sad and instead I isolated myself in my room and rarely walked out to the café and gym. I came to Philadelphia to spend my winter break with my host family and friends. My host family celebrated my birthday, and it was the first time in my life. When I was in Afghanistan, I used to consider it unimportant and no one really cared about it.  That night, at dinner table, my hostess told me that when I get back home I should thank my mom for bringing me into this world. A sudden sharp grief chocked in my throat shortly, I resisted and I embraced her suggestion and said to her: “I will, I will.” No one realized the ...

It is the cruelest week in this season; especially, when its days last longer and its hours operate slower when it is hot and humid. The cruelest part is when the mourning dove starts singing early in the morning and it goes on till frustration deepen to nerves. Then you have to challenge with your sadness that followed by your own insanity. The season that everyone starts leaving or about to leave for a short journey or a long one, it reminds me that this is also the season of when every living thing in desert swoons south toward some dream of a Gulf and better climate (if we human beings respect and protect the environment); I guess they also test the horizon while human beings are not able to see it because of shortsightedness or may be they are not able to be so ambitious to fly that high and see the horizon. Down here is blocked by cloud, fog and bushes. To see the horizon, indeed, we need flying up there to see the better horizon. My mom (Janet) is flying tomorrow, I envy her amb...