Hooray for completing another 101 in 1001! Friday evening I went to the very exotic (perhaps more exotic than any restaurant I actually ate at in Turkey) Cafe Istanbul for some surprisingly delicious food (though beware the belly dancer… I found her quite disconcerting) The food was great but it was shisha I came for. The last time I did shisha was as an eight year old in Pakistan. I remember the village elders sitting regally upon the manji’s as they smoked their hookah.. My dad, noticing my wide eyed fascination, indulged me a few puffs. The memory of my ensuing coughing on the acrid smoke ensured my smoke free status during the most tempting years. Still- despite this, sheesha held its allure… 18 years later, Friday evening the intrigue was finally actualized (though it took me back approximately 18 years reminding me why I don’t smoke). Now… though I technically “sheeshad” my technique was rather… lacking as it was noticeably unchanged in the past 18 years. In contrast to the waiter (a.k.a human chimey) who exhaled from his mouth, nose and ears *I* supposedly held it like a cigarette and puffed in a rather square fashion… well “if at first you can’t succeed.. try try again” right? (PS: I didn’t inhale) (P.S.S: apple flavored is yummy).
I just read Shabina’s post and it touched me. She talks about people who don’t even try because they are scared to fail. She had two touching quotes: “What is to give light must endure the burning” and “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take” Sometimes we live as though its a dress rehearsal, but as Surah Asr admonishes, time is life and goes trickling by never to return. I’m not too scared to try in most areas but one part of my life I hold so dear that the thought of trying and failing paralyzes me to inaction. My dream is to write. To this end I purchased the “Writer’s Market” guide to publishers and wrote out ten query letters to magazines with pitches for my ideas. But that was in July and the letters are still sitting unprinted inside my computer. Sure I joke “when I’m the next J.K. Rowlings..” all the time.. but doing something about it? The fear of rejection paralyzes me. Perhaps I inadvertently rejected myself. How elementary a concept yet how very enlightning.