Life: as I see it - my Space (Revised) edition

Dear Reader,

Confession: I've been feeling rather nostalgic lately, for obvious reasons, and so you'll just have to bare with me for this post. So, since it has now been a year (+2 weeks) since I posted Life: as I see it - my Space edition (one of my most popular posts) I thought it was time I showed you, my dear reader, how my bookshelves have changed and how they haven't.

I can't wait to add Maggie Steifvater's Forever to this, which is now finally out. It is something that can't be help it, I'm a compulsive completionist.    

Other favourite writers on this shelf are Na'ima B. Robert and Jamilah Kolocotronis.     

This shelf is directly underneath the one above. You'll  find here Kristin Cashore as well as Kate Mosse, with some Robin McKinley being cut off at the bottom of the picture. 

This use to be my "Classics" shelf, but is now mainly Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters, followed by the DVD of my Favourite BBC adaptations of Classics, including: North & South, Cranford, Middlemarch and Little Dorrit.      

This is my, much more serious, non-fiction shelf of mostly medical books, with the exception of Green Deen and  How I Killed Pluto, and Why it Had it Coming.

Aaahhh, Poetry... These huge collections are three of my favourites (minus LAT - see the comment on the link): Thomas Hardy, William Wordsworth and John Keats.  

And peeping in from the top are some of Rudyard Kipling's best works. 

The One and Only, Original bookshelf. Once upon a time, when I was a very little girl, this was the only bookshelf in my bedroom. Hence it still contains the likes of the Chronicles of Narnia and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I have to admit, I haven't much grown out of these books in all these years.  

I'd also like to mention Philip Pulman's Sally Lockhart books, the under-appreciated Garth Nix, and Frank Beddor for obvious reasons. 

Here we have a small neat section reserved for historical fiction and my favourite autobiographies. I think the titles/authors in this picture are clear enough to read, except the orange Dairy of a Young Girl. Anne Frank, may you rest in peace. 

This is where the rest of the Classics from the "ex-Classics shelf" have ended up, including Charles Dickens (in green), Victor Hugo (in the stripped blue)  and my copy of the Selected  Poems of Lord Alfred Tennyson. 

This is the spot where my beloved Inkworld Trilogy use to reside, but it was burrowed by an old friend and never returned. :'(

So to fill that gap in my heart...I mean shelf, I have filled this spot with the not as much beloved Books of Pallinor. Sorry Alison Croggon, that is just the honest truth.      

   

The Twilight Saga has been transferred, to the top of my big wardrobe to have a teeth and claw battle with...

... Christopher Paolini's dragons. Who will win this epic dual of fantasy vs. horror in the Young Adult Fiction genre? 

Let me know what you think in the Comments section below. 

Aside: Vampires come into the 'horror' category, don't they? Or am I thoroughly deceived? 

To lend his support to the Fantasy genre, is my collection of Tolkein's work, 

(also found at the top of another wardrobe).    

And finally the most important shelf in my bedroom, which resides in the top right-hand corner of my desk, hold my religious books. Most things Islamic, can be found in this shelf with The Noble Qur'an at the heart of it all. If you have been following my blog for long enough, you'll remember that much-used little blue book at the top is my pocket-size version of The Sealed Nectar, a biography of the Prophet Muhammed (PBUH).   

By the way, if you look to the far left, you'll see two unnamed books. They're mine. The grey one is choked-full of my poetry and the floral-pattern-one being my first note book entirely concerned with my novel-in-the-making Life in Conversations.    

I hope, dear Reader, that you have been awed and inspired by my vast array of books. I was going to continue on to a little piece about the gardening I've been doing recently with my mum, and the efforts we have put into salvaging and saving the lives of about 16 small and starved geranium plants we found on sale at B&Q. But I've realised that this post is already far too long and that tales of my epic weeding might bore you, dear Reader, to death. And that is something I don't want on my concious. 

Anyway, making this post longer is now no-longer an option as I must go and make some greek-style pasta for my ravenous brothers. 

Nida

a Goal celebration!

Dear Reader,

The day before yesterday was my graduation/convocation ceremony. It was overwhelming and inspiring.  

The day began quite early, 6am in fact, since we had to get to the Hall by 8:30am and it was about an hours drive from my house. But being Pakistani, we had to be late, and so we got there at just after 9am. As soon as I arrived however, I had no chance to say hello to my friends but was hurried off to the robing room to don my (incredibly expensive) academic dress. Part of me felt like a puffed up black pillow, while the other half felt like a Hogwarts-runway. Well, that was until I put on my mortarboard cap and looked in the mirror. It was then that it truly hit me that my undergraduate degree was actually over. I turned to my mother and saw that she had tears in her eyes. She was crying, silent tears of joy and pride. I just want to take this moment to say: I love you Mum.  

The Ceremony itself was quite interesting. Our principal spoke for about 15 mins, covering a range of topics from the increased tuition fees and the current state of the NHS, to the St. George's pride and wishing the graduates/alumni best of luck in the future. One of the things he said really stuck with me. He told us to remember the 4P's in the rest of our lives: to be Professional and Patient, to act without Prejudice, and always remember to Persevere. 

Then the awards and degrees presentation began. Me and my university friends clapped and whooped extra loud whenever one of us went up on stage. I think the loudest whoop was for the very sociable and lovable Arab friend of mine, whom I shall not name here. I'm told that there was a lot of whooping and clapping for me too but all I remember is that after hearing my name being called, I stepped on the stage in utter silence, my entire concentration focused on walking straight ahead without tripping up. Sound only returned to me when I was off the stage and heading back to me seat, but by then the clapping was for the next person in line. Having never been in this sort of a situation before, I suppose that was what stage-fright felt.  

The three hours after the ceremony ended, were spent in a hectic struggle to find my friends and take a million photographs with them. There are pictures of us in the hall, in the waiting area, with our families, with each other's families, in the queues, and of us friends flinging our hats, even one of my friend's mother looking quite lost. Thanks to Allah's mercy, the weather was bright and sunny and absolutely wonderful, to fit our moods. And so there are a myriad of pictures of us in the sun, on the stairs, by the ponds, in the ponds ... you get the picture.  

And in the end, as I walked through the car park doors, with my aching high-heeled-feet, it was not a sense of loss or ending that filled me, nor was it excitement, anticipation or anxiety. It was contentment and satisfaction at a job well done. You see, for so long my life had been geared towards this one goal: graduation. Since about half-way through secondary school everything I did, academically and extracurricularly, were for the purpose of getting into a good university, which Alhumdulillah I did. Once at university, everything was done into order to get great grades. These past years have been an emotional roller-coaster, requiring a 110% effort to just keep on top of things. And Alhumdulillah, thank God, I had a brilliant network of friends and family for support, who picked me up whenever I fell down, who kept on reminding me to not give up hope, that I could do it, that my goal was achievable. 

And now I have the grades, Alhumdulillah. For me, this ceremony was a celebration of achieving the goal that my life had been centred on for too many years to count. And not just my goal, but the goals of all the BSc, MBBS, MSc and PhD students at my university. It was a celebration of our efforts, hard work and perseverance, of everything we learnt (academically and personally) and of the life-long friendships we formed.         

I've heard some say that they felt a certain anguish, or a sense of confusion or doubt as to where they should head to next. But luckily that has not been the case with me. Being the obsessively organised person that I am, I always have a plan in place, several plans in fact, in case one should fail. I know that life has it's unexpected turns and twists, but I've found a way to adapt and mould my plans to whatever Allah (swt) wishes to throw in my path. And now I wait to begin to walk on my next plan, with my next goal ahead and insight. 

Wishing you, dear Reader, all the best with your own goals, 

Nida

P.S. - Sorry if the title of this post misled you as it has nothing to do with football :-P