Sharing with you a little bit of this and that.

Fiction, some thoughts and more fiction.

If you're a first time visitor, feel free to browse and don't be shy to comment!

Also feel free to contact me on fdramani29@googlemail.com!

Enjoy! x

Thursday, 30 September 2010

What Next?

''My efforts weren't bad'' Katrina said. ''I made 'Britain's Next Top Model'.''

''Katrina, Elle McPherson told you to work on your profile and go on a diet, and you were the first to leave'' Sonia replied.

''Yeah, well, 'X Factor' was alright. I got through to Boot Camp'' Katrina smiled.

''That was because Simon Cowell was speechless because of your off key vocals, he wanted to see what you would do next.''

'' 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' then?'' Katrina laughed. ''I could have won the Million!''

''You said Candy Floss was a form of tooth cleaner for the £100 question!' Sonia frowned.

''What about 'I'm A Celebrity! Get Me Out Of Here!' then? '' Katrina scowled.

The wig you put on to look like Jordan fell off after you all had to run through the jungle. They certainly got you out of there! And fast!''

'' 'Come Dine With Me?' I cooked the roof off the house in that'' Katina said.

''You scored 0 points hon, the contestants found burnt cat hairs and whiskers in the starter, main and dessert''.

'' 'Extreme Makeover' rebuilt my whole house!'' Katrina cried.

"Katrina, they evicted you since the house was still owned by the council, you hadn't paid the rent and you didn't get permission to redecorate!''

'' 'Jeremy Kyle!' I was a guest on his chat show at least!''

''It was obvious you were lying after you said you were 3 months pregnant then had the baby 10 months later.''

'' 'Four Weddings' then'' Katrina said. ''You know I was the best bride.''

''After hiring the groom and guests to appear at your make believe wedding, and the groom saying 'I don't' no you, most definitely weren't''.

''Ok, ok, 'Britain's Got Talent.' You can't say anything about that.'' Katrina clapped her hands gleefully.

''You set fire to the stage after trying to juggle 35 tennis balls on fire?'' Sonia sighed.

Katrina sat nursing her burnt hands wrapped in gauze.

''I'm thinking of 'The Weakest Link' next''.

Monday, 27 September 2010

Blessed Assurance

He had stood nervous and full of trepidation. His fingers worked themselves into the visual of what his mind simply was. A mangled cohesion of a nervous mess. He remembered the words he had read and instantly his demeanor changed as he remembered his authority.

''There goes the man with the book!'' Many jeered behind their restricted walls as he walked down the green mile. ''What can that dumb book of yours do to save you now?''

His clothes were torn, the dirt upon him was obvious as others turned to stare. His attire was of someone in desperate need. His face was dirty, the lines underneath his eyes only exemplified a life that proved challenging. His jumpsuit hung loosely from days of not being able to eat. His once orange apparel was now a dirty brown hue, from him came a smell that made others step away in repulsion.

There seemed to be a desperation to him. He nodded at a silent voice so familiar in his head. Memories, so many memories and so many mistakes. He could no longer hold back, as the tears rolled down his face. His mistakes led him away, chained at his feet and hands.

''What is your last meal request?'' He was asked.

''Roast beef and potatoes is my favourite'' was his choked reply.

The warden nodded and granted his simple request. He tried to be strong, he had inner peace, but one could never be prepared for such a time as this.

''I'll take this now'' the warden pointed to his book. ''You won't be needing that''.

She was right, he didn't really need it, he knew most of what was written between the pages, the words were rooted in his heart and they had been his meditation for some time now.

He was lead to a room with a lone bed and two administrators. He closed his eyes as he was strapped down ready to face his fate.


He opened his eyes and stared around him as his heart raced. He looked down at his feet and nibbled at his blackened finger nails. He wriggled the toes that peeped out from his tattered shoes and spat out the dirt from under his nails.

''Watch it would you?'' A woman cried as she turned to look at him, wiping away the spot of dirt that had caught her in the back of head. She looked him up and down, shook her head in disgust as she grunted.

He stared straight ahead. He was in a large room full of others seated in order holding a ticket in their hands. Everyone looked impeccably dressed, shoes shone, hair in place. He wanted to crawl into a small hole. He didn't feel any different. He had expected to, but this wasn't what his minds eyes had expected.

''Where am I?'' he asked.

''This is the Waiting Room.'' The woman replied, she felt compassion at the fear in his eyes.

''Don’t worry'' She smiled. ''Look''. She stood behind him pointing.

He turned around, his breath taken away by the sight before him. A light that was all consuming shone down as an array of stars twinkled within the light. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head low. He was afraid to look any further. Rays upon rays of brightly coloured rays of light, sprinkled forth. He ran forward and was stunned as he crashed into an invisible wall. Through the wall he could see some activity ahead of him, people moving ahead.

He looked up as a bell chimed loudly yet softly as a woman called out: ''Number 102 please approach the gate.''

He looked at her closely, his nose pressed to the invisible wall and stood back in surprise. She was adorned in simple delight. From the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes, she shone. She glowed a hue enough that would make another run to be close to her. Her voice emulated the warmth of a thousand suns.

Everything in this place seemed so unreal. He stared at the ticket in his hand, he was No 20049.

He looked further through the wall and saw another like the beautiful one in front of him. He could only liken her to some sort of ethereal being. She was on her knees, her arms were out stretched upwards as tears ran down her face.

''Number 350 please.'' The voice sang.

He looked further on and saw another, then another and another. As he looked closely, he realised there were thousands of these ethereal beings all around him, it was as if they made up part of the light. He reached out to touch them, but his hands met again with the invisible wall. They walked forth to set of pearl gates. Gates that stood tall encased in the arm of unexplainable presence, and emulated beauty, wisdom, knowledge, love, peace and joy. His heart beat fast as he took in the glorious sight.

''I'm dying!'' He cried out as clutched at his chest unable to comprehend the vision. ''I'm dying!''

''Sweetheart calm down,'' the woman he had spat on patted him on his back looking at him sympathetically. ''Calm down. That's already happened, you're just waiting for your turn to get through now.''

He bowed his head low to the floor. In the midst of a myriad of bodies encased in white, he felt he was the least of them all. He stared down at his unsightly being. He sunk down lower on his knees. Oh he knew what the book had said, but maybe that wasn't enough.

He stood up straight as he heard the bell chime, another had been called forward. Another glowing saintly being lead to a majestic white set of oyster pearl white gates.

He was aware of the sneers that were directed at him in the Waiting Room, the looks of disapproval at his attire. He could only gaze at the wonder that stood before him though, why were so many eyes watching him? His eyes could only focus upon that which was ahead, why did so many turn away from the magnificent sight to focus on him that which was less than?

Those memories, and all his mistakes. They came flooding back as he waited. Maybe they could all see right through him.

He remembered the reason that had brought him here. He had pushed a woman down the stairs in attempt to escape her nagging, incessant advice, pushed her so hard that the coroners could only declare her dead.

Her family had not stopped in a moment to seek justice for the death of that woman, their mother, his wife. This had resulted in his 267 day trial resulting in an adjudication of lethal injection on death row.

The Holy book had helped him to understand who he really was and all that lay before him. He had made a point to apologise to those he had hurt and sought forgiveness from above.

He stood holding his ticket in his hand.

''Lord'' He cried as he sunk down on his knees again finding himself in a place he had never expected to be so soon. ''Father, I believe in you!!''.

It was then, that he realised what that bright light meant to him. He was ecstatic when his number was called.

''Number 20049 please!''

After what seemed a lifetime, after a lifetime of memories, shame, regrets, forgiveness, acceptance, he stood up and stepped forward.

He stared at the ticket in his hand. One foot in front of the other, he could only bow back down on his knees in awe at the majestic power that shone before him.

''I believe, I believe, I believe!'' he cried.

As he stood and stepped out of the waiting room, the scent that surrounded him was all consuming. He couldn't put his finger on it but it was an unforgettable competition of exquisite scents of honey blossoms and sweet lemon drops, lavender burnt wood and cinnamon topped with orange zest along with laughter, joy and a deep sense of belonging. He took in a deep breath and sighed at the aroma that invaded his nostrils.

He could not comprehend the great being that turned the book of life, recited his name and waved him in, ushering him into those pearly gates.

He looked down at himself as he realised he was now embraced in echoes of white light, just as those that had gone before him. Overwhelmed by the beauty of his being and presence that seemed to overtake him, he simply cried.

''Why did I make it? You saw the mess my life made. Why?''

A smile so warm and inviting as the Angel simply replied.

''What you saw in the Waiting Room was yourself in your own eyes.'' The Angel smiled. A smile so warm, he melted and fell at his knees.

''His words of forgiveness were already written upon your heart the moment you chose to believe. Now you are seen through the eyes of the Father, your Lord, your Saviour. His mercy and your faith brought you here.''

She pointed ahead as he followed her direction ahead and took in a sharp intake of breath at the wonder before him. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks as he was lifted upwards and into the place that has been prepared for him.

''Go'' the Angel wept tears of joy, "Your Father awaits you''.


Inspired by the Teresa Lewis case.

Friday, 24 September 2010

Be Right Back


I may be silent for a while, but I am merely thinking of wonderful stories and anecdotes that may bless you, plus trying to engage in some other priorities that are calling!

Keep checking in and re-read posts of old.

We shall continue our rendezvous soon!

Much Love,

Fatima x

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

He Is For You

I close my eyes and I think back to a time when I knew this one girl

She was hot fresh off the street, her whole attire spoke of some ghetto lifestyle

I had finished performing in a small church gospel concert, singing the songs I had written to many that would hear it, and there she was

She looked at me and said, ''I liked the way you sang, your words, they really touched me''

Her eyes were sad, her smile barely reached

Traveling from Manchester to Bristol, Reading to Huddersfield, and Leeds,

Czech Republic, all over to spread the word through song

To those that hadn't even read it

She was the epitome of my reasons for the myriad of early morning rises and long extended travels

I smiled, ''thank you sweet girl, here take my number if you ever want to talk''

Oh, and talk did she do

But most of all she spoke her heart

Said she was going through some things, had some things to work out

She shared her innermost secrets

I left holding her heart in my hand

''What do I do with this, Sweet Lord?'' I asked

''Show her some hospitality'' He said

Spent time talking, advising, rebuking, approaching, laughing and chilling

Getting to know this sweet young girl opened my heart to a place

Where my heart was opened to share the place where God lived

She had been met with much negativity

See she was beautiful and kind, her thoughts were towards others

''Despite the brick wall I face, what about me?'' she said

''Despite my obvious failures, and my desire to sometimes stay in that dreadful place

where I should not be, what about me?''

''You were made to be just you. God loves you despite you'' I smiled

''But all my mistakes.'' She wept. ''So many are they. Yet I feel that all they see is my mistakes''

She cried, tears fell down her face

''I have been awful in the past, and I was blinded by desires'' She said

''Now they tell me what I should do as if they are part of the Military''

''Don't worry about them,'' I said, ''Just keep being you''

''In time you will understand. He is the only one you need to please''

She smiled and slept and dreamed a sweet dream

A dream of grace, a dream of power, a dream of love and a dream of sound mind

She woke to realise that unconditional love was the essence to her being

That nothing that could separate her from the love of the One who reciprocated her hearts intent

''God is amazing!'' She cried. ''He loves me for no matter what!''

Smiles from me, so glad that she now understood the heart of the One who so loved her

Smiles from Him so glad that she understood His heart towards her, the one He so loved

Smiles from Him because she at last knew, that He was for her

Just as He is for you.

Monday, 20 September 2010

The C Word

I am that who has been assigned to consume your very being.

If you are deaf, you will hear me

I will devour you from your inner core first, then outwards

If you are blind, you will see me

Suppressing your right to be free

You will be a slave to me, and bow at my very command

As I infiltrate your very being, annihilation will be my attempt

I will rip you of your dignity and your right to live as that which you were called

The world today says image is everything, I will highlight that deception

By making you stare in the mirror and make you only see the emptiness of the window to your soul

As synthetic add on's and kohl pencils can only help to maintain your self esteem

You will cower and hide behind a make believe smile said to portray courage

That which I am, the word which you hate to utter, the thing I am which you must accept

I will assume the right to reign in you as you simply weaken at my demands

I was not made to control you! Yet, I so easily am able

You will fight with weapons that only weaken your defense in the aim to overcome that which is me

I will make you begin to seek after a purpose in the hope of attaining one

I will at least draw you close to those close to you of whom you long dismissed

The need to love and show love to those around you

And you say I am of no use?

I will make you cry, and hurt, bringing you to your knees in desolation

I roar, and laugh at your sought after advice

That which you inject inside yourself, will weaken you and make me strong

Only sometimes off course.

I am humble enough to admit that sometimes I lose

But that which I do not accomplish in your potluck victory

Overall, I have you. I show myself strong to you

Yet you are weak in trying to find a cure for my zealous audacity

Who am I? you ask?

I am cancer.


I read more and more about cancer, the battles people have waged over it, testimonies of survivors, solemn stories of people who have lost loved ones to cancer, ways to prevent it, and I am thankful that there has been a lobby to keep the illness on the agenda making the public aware of it.

I witnessed the disease debilitate and literally eat away at two fully grown once healthy men I knew. Before then, I never really understood the full impact of what the effects of cancer were. Off course I knew it took the lives of many, but the way in which it does is shocking and unbelievable.

Jade Goody also took the awareness of cancer to the next level after falling terminally ill from the disease and prompting many to take in the seriousness of the disease.

I pray that there will one day be a cure for cancer, and that lives will no longer be subject to this disease.

Friday, 17 September 2010

Spiritually Undiscerning, or Mere Flesh Fighters?

Someone recently stated, ''What's with all the uproar against Qur'an burning? Bibles are being burned all over the world, why is there no such advocacy against that? Is it, that we are now living in an anti Christian Britain?''

Along with this statement there are many other voices that shout to be heard in relation to the derogation of Christianity in light of the rise of Islam.

- No displaying of crucifixes on golden chains worn around the neck if you work at BA.

- You cannot run an adoption agency that wholly affiliates itself with heterosexual beliefs and rejects the homosexual viewpoint.

- The voice of a Christian which subjugates homosexuals is subject to the consequences of the law.

- Relaying the love and mercy of God to those sick in hospital, tutors expressing the latter to pupils, calls for job withdrawal.

Islam has recently, and previously been highlighted in the media as being a religion that invokes hate and violence. Because of this, it seems to have birthed a deep fear in many of those in authority, to the point that the only solution is for those in authority to side along with Islam and try to pacify and restrain any potential repetitions of terrorism or hate attacks.

Christian voices are shouting out to claim clarity in the findings of a system that belittles one faith seemingly in favour of another. Britain being a Christian nation, can only allow citizens to lay out the premise for the argument that anti-Christianity is predominately overtaking that which Britain once stood for.

Some say because of the terror and violence associated with Islam and the damage that has prevailed as a consequence of the audacious affronts, it seems Islam may be seen as a kind of Super Power that can only be pacified through association to its steadfastness.

'Why is it that when an unknown Pastor from an unknown church threatens to burn Qur'ans, there is an uproar, and this Pastor is deemed as evil? What then, of the thousands of bibles being burnt world wide, what about those? What is said about those that attempt to do such a thing?'

It seems that the voice and the threats of Islam against any and everybody that attempts to undermine their believes will be met with further threats of anger, violence, retaliation and even death.

'Yes, but what are Christians doing about those that come face to face with their believes and attempts to undermine? Why is Islam in comparison to Christianity so widely acclaimed, yet the Christian voice seems so silent and small?'

I sit upon my bed as I type this, and I can only laugh to myself. Laughter may seem incongruous to such a subject matter, but it truly is all I can do. I open my bible, and I read:

'For we are not fighting against human beings but against the wicked spiritual forces in the heavenly world, the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of this dark age'. Ephesians 6:12.

As that which has been mentioned above, not one conclusion (as portrayed by the media) has ever touched upon the spiritual solution, or an answer given as to why there seems to be such a battle between two beliefs.

I am bias in this argument, sponsoring the notion that the uproar and division we see is simply at the hands of one whose goal is to cause immense confusion, separation and a powerful spiritual war that rages against the futility of the flesh. A dying battle we fight when we look to the consequences of religion, instead of looking to the One who is the solution for relationship.

Can it be safely said that most of what we see, let's label it, 'The Battle Between Two Odds' as it truly is, is one not to be viewed or approached, from the physical eye? The media so easily portrays an issue in the aim of gaining its political viewpoint and influencing the mass with its own agenda of what is popular culture. But what of the agenda? What of the viewpoint? What of that which works first in the spiritual?

Don't get me wrong, I am not a 'hater'. I was raised a Muslim, my Mother is a Muslim, and dearly do I love her. So, let's try and hit my point home, if it makes any sense at all.

The 'ruler of the world' may be seen to have his way by throwing out scheme bombs, but this is not a battle of flesh and blood, a fight that does not succumb to the retaliations of wrathful words and blood shed patriotism. The aim of the 'scheme bomb' is to cajole many away from the true course by encouraging them to foster a devotion to a cause, to fight for what they believe in as a means of drawing them away from a real encounter with God and the faith relationship.

'For we are not fighting against human beings but against the wicked spiritual forces in the heavenly world, the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of this dark age'. Ephesians 6:12.

If you get hit, fight back and fight back harder. Draw the sword, do some damage! Don’t be so weak and passive, do something! The lack of understanding of how the spiritual realm works will always lead the flesh to take center stage.

Do Christians need to do more to defend their faith in the face of a myriad of attacks? That depends on what is seen as being Christian. Is passivity a definitive persona of Christianity? Would the rise of the sword in a rebuttal to the negative portrayal of Christianity make any difference?

If you get slapped on one cheek, turn the other for the same. Going back to the true intent of God’s will and heart (the reason why these battles are in place of course?) would be a suggestion that deems one as simply crazy.

I totally agree that there has to be a balance in knowing when to act in the physical in defense of the faith, and a sense of knowing the difference between holy indignation or unrighteous anger when acting in the physical...inflaming the need to fight for a cause can sometimes produce the latter.

''We are fighting a religious war here for the sake of God for God's sake - what in the world does God have to do with it?''

So back to the question, ''Is Britain becoming anti-Christian?''. From what I can see, and evidence that purely can only relate to what the media shows is that there has been an increasing fight to suppress Christianity. If Britain is indeed a Christian nation with Christian values, but is in favour for the ostracism of it's very foundation, with secularism on the rise, then ''yes'' is my answer to the question.


''Some ages are lukewarm and complacent, other ages, of which the present is one, are unbalanced and prone to faction, and it is our [the demon's] business to inflame them. Any small coterie, bound together by some interest which other men dislike or ignore, tends to develop inside itself a hothouse mutual admiration, and towards the outer world, a great deal of pride and hatred which is entertained without shame because the 'Cause' is it's sponsor and it is thought to be impersonal.''

[A Template for Distraction] - Letter 7 of the Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis.

Thursday, 16 September 2010

Out Of The Box

It was the realisation of the place that he was in.

It was small. The corners of the space that boasted restriction and confinement began to dig into his heels. It was full of light, but it was small.

He banged on the walls, the left first, and then the right, above and then below.

Nothing. No sound. Not even an echo.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall the times prior to his imprisonment. The light reminded him of his dreams.

It was smiles and laughs all round. Graduation. Acceptance. The proposal to take the scholarship.

''No''. He shook his head. ''I'm not able.''

He recalled that it was his own insecurities and fears that lead him into the box.

He banged on the walls, kicked at the floors. ''Somebody!!'' He bellowed. ''Please release me''.

He fell in and out of time, seconds, minutes, hours. He opened his eyes to the sounds of drilling as the lock to his box was broken away. Hands lifted him up, his thin small youthful innocence was carried away to a place of rescue.

He did well to take physio. The use of his legs was an effort in his attempt to use them. For so long he had been confined in that small box. Small steps at first, and then strides, jogs around the park eventually.

He looked outside as he walked about, taking in the clear blue sky, smelling the budding roses and swatting the bees from his face. It was a surprise to meet with the myriad of cars and buses zooming across the busy streets and the honking of the horns in irritation.

But crossing that busy road, holding a rose, he was met with the revelation of all he had to know.

He would often walk into office buildings, working as a cleaner, staring through the large conference doors at the large comfortable leather chairs. He would introduce himself to the men walking out of the office. They would look at him in disdain. He hummed as he cleaned and continued to dream.

At night, his lamp burned through as he read, new ideas beginning to flow through his mind.

''I'll make it one day,'' he said as he stared through the conference doors. He stared at two important looking men walking out of the building of a large computer firm.

At night, he worked hard. In his room, researching, trying and testing.

''We need some new ideas,'' one man said to the other. ''We need someone who will make a difference. The company is folding, We need help.''

Hoover in hand he stared intently at them.

''Hey kiddo,'' one of the men said. ''Here's a pound for your time.''

He smiled at them as he pocketed the pound. That would go a long way. ''I'll make it one day.'' He said adamant as he shoved the hoover at their feet in frustration.

''What's the matter with him?'' One of the men asked the other as he shook the dust away from the assault at his feet as they walked away.

''Some kid with big dreams but nothing going for him. I see him everyday,'' the other replied.

''He did tell me his name. Bill I think. I forget his last name. Yes, that's it,'' he said clicking his fingers.

''Gates. Bill Gates I recall.''

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

The Hand In The Sky

It was the ramblings of one that seemed no less short than crazy. The man's thoughts coincided with his words, and out of his mouth came a myriad of incoherent matter, jumbled together as he sat in an interrogation room.

''I saw it! It was there, in the sky, big lights, a hand putting things in place!'' He cried. He struggled to break free from the handcuffs that restricted his movement.

Smiles around the room were sympathetic and eyes looked to the floor to avoid the association with the mans hysteria.

''I saw it!'' He pressed on. ''You think I'm crazy?''

Met with silence, he was lead away and placed in a big white room with padded walls and a secure lock.

''Do you think we should have at least heard him out?'' The Senior asked the Commanding Officer. ''There have been like reports of similar sightings''.

''The guys a nutcase'' The Commander replied, ''and I will have nobody undermine the operation that is currently in place. See to it that he is sedated and no word is heard from him again''.

The Senior stood staring. ''Sir?'' She stammered staring at her Superior.

''Get rid of him immediately.'' The Commander ordered, avoiding her eyes as he walked away briskly.


The Commander was akin to the big bang theory, a staunch believer that the anatomy of man came into existence by the chance of the cosmological theory of atoms and gravity meeting together and producing what is known as earth life today. He dismissed the question when asked by a reporter, ''But where did gravity then come from?''.

Instead he pursed his lips, ended the press conference and refused anymore questions.

Back at the office the Senior was quiet. Her thoughts ran back to the life of the crazy man that was no more. ''You OK?'' She asked the Commander.

He responded with a grimace and a forced smile. ''Too much to think about, too much to deal with.''

Not long after the order to end the life of the man that proved a hindrance to him in his pursuit to discount the existence of God, the Commander had strange images invade his mind at night. Dreams and visions of a voice that spoke deep into his heart. A voice that made him question his theological views.

He realised now that the order to end the life of the man that he had dismissed as crazy had been a grave mistake. The 'hand putting things in place' that he had been told of, he himself had seen. Notices of sightings from others continued to flood in. Sky News and CNN Breaking News coverage were inundated with calls.

''Reports have just come in that a great hand in the sky has been seen placing and aligning stars and constellations into the heavens.'' the newsreader relayed. ''The firmaments are submissive to It's command, and the heavens have opened it's mouth at It's word.''

It was world wide knowledge now that ''the hand'' truly played a part in the creation of the world. No theological viewpoint could explain the obvious intervention of evidence over rationale.

The Commander sank to his knees and sobbed.

''What is the matter Commander? The Senior asked. ''Surely these new revelations prove to be a stepping stone to propel the notion of a Creator that we rejected? Though the existence of a Creator is not what we sought after, as least we have a sound explanation of the world we live in.''

The Commander with his head bowed low, cried. ''I weep,'' he said, ''because instead of due judgment in taking the innocent life of another and rejecting the existence of this...this'' He faltered. ''MY Creator''. His voice broke.

''I was instead shown the mercy and grace of His hand. I prepared to receive pain and punishment, as we so clearly see daily around the world, this being the reasoning for my rejection of one such as He. I thought He was the author of famine, natural disasters and economic meltdowns, even death. Expecting the latter, instead my life has been spared.''

''Commander?'' The Senior replied, ''I don't understand.''

''It was not just a hand Senior,'' he continued hoarsely. ''it was an all consuming being that came to me, and spoke to me.'' The Commander explained, ''He presented Himself to me as Father and called me His son. He told me that whosoever believes in Him shall not die, but instead have everlasting life.''

The Commander raised his hands and held them up to the sky. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, seemingly consumed by an invisible force as tears rolled down his face.

''Commander?'' The Senior asked taken aback by the emotion of her Commander. ''What does that mean for the life of the man that we called crazy? He tried to tell us of this and we dismissed him.''

The Commander smiled a genuine, thankful, grateful smile. ''My Father told me that I was forgiven for my error when my heart brought it before Him, for this, a burden has been lifted from me. Before he was lead away the man leaned towards me and he whispered something.''

The Senior was intrigued, consumed by the immense heat and the warmth of the love that seeped from the core of her Commanders being.

''I did not understand it then,''whispered the Commander. ''But it makes sense now.''

''What did he say?'' The Senior asked.

He simply said, ''It's OK, I believe''.

Monday, 13 September 2010

Thank You!

Hi All!

I just wanted to extend some thanks over to you for taking the time to read my blog.

It pleases me to know that I can share a little bit of what I love with others. Some of you have stumbled upon the various pages, others have intentionally entered in.

I hope the stories do make impact. Some are purely for fun, to invoke some laughter, and some inspirational and thought provoking. My earlier posts are simple anecdotes from my day to day life encounters and memories.

Either way, keep reading, and keep enjoying and ta very much for the visits!

Miss Dramani x

A Simple Revelation

Indeed it is said of him by many that he is wonderful and great
He smiles and is resolute

He bows, shakes hands and greets a multitude of people
He is highly esteemed, well known for all he achieves
His works tell the tale of his impressive disposition
He is the epitome of the one who is the ideal candidate for praise

He represents the one who is comfortable being part of an association
The need to adapt and belong, disassociates him from the true foundation
For even though his voice is lifted high above in the secret place
It is in the hope to see an effect of his presence wherever he may go

He dismisses the fact the Great and Majestic One looks into the sinews of his heart
Focusing only on the reality of his efforts and accomplishments, his degrees and Phd's
He places the Majestic One a little lower than his counterparts
That is all that matters to him

He lives in a world where the true foundation, by his standards, does not relate
Therefore he defaults and takes matters into his own hands
Those closest to him he has no thought of
His words are bitter, harsh and unloving and crude

Yet in a moment, there are those who he feels a great need to please
So he runs to and fro and performs an open opera of great indignation
His pillow is familiar with the damp stains, made from tears that sting hot within his eyes
As he realises there is a void that needs to be filled

The mockery of relying on his own efforts by the means of affiliation and works
The emptiness and the validity of his need to be accepted
Only allows him to see the frugality of his own efforts
Bringing him back to the heart of faith without reasoning

To the core of trust without questioning
Service alongside anonymity
A total abandonment of self will
Simply brings him back to know the Father heart of God

Saturday, 11 September 2010

You Will Not Walk Alone

Dark stood before him, surrounded by folds of anger that exuded acrimonious tones of bitterness and evil intent.

Light stood tall, resplendent in all His glory, glimmers and rays of wonder surrounded Him.

He drew forth Hsword and took a step toward Dark. He lunged forth and began to run as He cried.

''She will not walk alone!''


''Father, I pray,'' the old woman bowed down on her knees. ''In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pray, ''she will not walk alone''.


Mona hurried along aware that it was late and it was dark. She wrapped her coat tightly around her exhaling as her breath hit the cold winter air.

She sensed that something was different, unsure of what it was she began to jog, eager to get back inside the warmth and security of her home.


Dark retaliated and called forth his army. They stood leering , jeering, cajoling and ready to fight.

He who was encased in light opened His mouth and spoke forth a word as He again drew forth His sword.

''She will not walk alone.'' He said.

He swiped His sword, and the battle commenced.


On her knees she remained. The old woman's mouth barely open as her lips moved rapidly. Silently soft words escaped from her mouth.

''She will not walk alone.''

Mona saw the figure from the corner of her eye. She turned and saw him step back into the shadows. Along the alleyway she began to run, her heels clicking, echoing the desperation and urgency all around her.

''Dear Lord'' She cried. ''I will not walk alone.''


The old woman rose up from her knees and knew the urgent prayer for her daughter's protection had been heard.


The one encased in darkness withdrew as he realised he was no match for the one who exuded total and majestic power. The will of God had been fulfilled.


Back at home Mona watched the news of the man who was lead away in handcuffs. She was saddened to know that there was another who had met an untimely end. He had been caught in the same alleyway she had been on. She called the police to identify, she had seen the murderer lurking in the dark.

''Why?'' she asked, as he brushed past her in court. Life was his sentence. ''Why did you not attack me?''.

''Because you were not alone.'' the man responded. ''A tall tall man was walking by your side''.


An adaptation

Friday, 10 September 2010

Dear John

Dear John,

You just couldn't resist could you?

I had so much going on, what with the re-mortgage, I lost my dad, the cat fell ill. It was too much.

I miss that ginger cat more than anything.

Anyway. I really wanted to thank you. Thank you for never being there.

Out shopping when you say you've been at work. I saw the empty Tiffany bag with the receipt for a platinum diamond ring.

Thank you for always being out, spending your money gambling on the lottery.

But I think the time has come.

What will I miss? The burnt pizzas, the overcooked steaks, the under done chips...well...maybe not much.

When I needed you most, you were never there to wipe away my tears.

Thank you though for making me realise what I was worth. More than you.

I also thank my friends that they told me about that tall beautiful lady they saw you with huddled together, giggling over something special, I guess I know who the diamond ring was for.

The way they described her, well, I guess I'm no match.

I don't have time to fight over what is mine and what should have been.

My pillow met with many tears and my therapist was happy at the added extras to her bank account.

Your new found extra curricular activity has me bidding you fare well.

But in all honesty, your dishonesty gives me the perfect opportunity to tell you, I've met someone new.



Dear Jane,

Thank you for your letter.

All I can simply say is...

What your friends forgot to point out was that the lady I huddled and giggled with was a vet.

We both were ecstatic at having revived our ginger cat, ready to bring her home to you.

Not to mention the gorgeous diamond ring I bought.

That night, I reserved a table for two, to let you know those six lucky numbers I stayed loyal to had won.

Twenty-nine million pounds worth of smiles and dreams fulfilled.

But you never showed up. Guess Your friends got to you first.

Oh and that ring? It was meant to be for that second to last finger on your left hand.

As I asked you to be my wife.

Tough luck for you Jane.

I'm on a cruise ship now with our old ginger cat and that giggling laughing lady wearing your diamond ring.



Dear John,

Sorry that letter was meant for someone else.

Bring the cat along on your way back home will you?

It's pizza, steak and chips for dinner.

Lots and lots of love,


Thursday, 9 September 2010

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

How was your day honey?'' Her Father asked

''This is what happened'' she said. ''Let me tell you the simple story''


Skipping, dancing prancing, jumping twirling

The flowers in the yellow filled flower meadows stretched mile upon mile upon mile

My smile told of happy moments

Singing,dancing, gleefully content

A buttercup in my hand, I sang

''He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not''

Yellow petals pulled from it's home fluttered into the sky with each lamentation

Holding the flower with one petal left, I screeched

''He loves me, he loves me!''

Pink ribbon in my hair, white cotton summer dress and loose strappy sandals

I was the epitome of all things sweet in a young sweet girl

My friends giggled along with me

''He loves you'' They screeched

I clutched on to my dismal looking flower

Running towards the van that stopped alongside the yellow filled meadows

''Ice-cream time!'' We screamed in unison

Impatiently tapping our feet at the young boy and his girl love in front

''What do you want Baby?'' He crooned, ''Anything for you''

''This one.'' She pointed to the extravagant chocolate tipped cone with promises of sweet vanilla and caramel droppings

''He loves me!'' I trilled holding up my flower

Sun shining down, us sweet young girls smiled and giggled in anticipation of our choice

My smile turned upside down as the young boy and his girl love turned to walk away with their chocolate vanilla caramel delight

Familiar in face, stature and words I stopped him and cried

''You said you loved me! Who then is she?'' My finger pointed at the intruder, waving my one petaled flower in his face in distress

''She's my girl. And what?'' He swaggered

Tears rolled down my face


''Is this what happened to you today sweetheart?'' Her Father consoled her

''What you will not find in another, just know that you will always find it in me.''

Her Father held her close and she smiled and knew that all he said was truth

She would not find in another what she would find in him

She handed him her flower stem, her buttercup with one petal standing

He plucked off the lone ranger and tossed it into the air

She smiled at him and sighed

''He loves me''

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

You Only Live Once

The wind in her hair reminded her of the days of impromptu drives with her teenage love, in his car with the rooftop down

Dust in her sandals brought back memories of their fun and laughter on a sandy beach after a midnight escape from her bedroom window

The sound of an ice cream van reminded her of the desperate craving for a 99p flake courtesy of the one who loved to hold her hand

The ringing of the church bells made her laugh at the so many hour late arrivals to Sunday service

The announcement of a delayed train arrival brought recollections of a four hour long bus ride alternative

The appearance of rain drops brought to mind a mad dash in the rain soaked through and through

Her reflection in the mirror showed the lines on her face that a thousand yesterdays had added

A thousand yesterdays reminded her of the myriad of tomorrows still to come

With the car rooftop down, wind in her greying hair she turned to smile at her love

'You only live once, they say. We may as well live it twice over while we can'...

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

What Tomorrow Holds

Too much to think of what tomorrow holds

Too much to think of what yesterday could have been

Eyes closed, deep breath in

And then, exhale

Now able to view the blue skies and the grey clouds

A contrast of one and another fighting to gain ground

Brother and sister strolling down the street

Crossing the road at a red light, she holds him back

'You'll get done for jay walking you know'

'I'm older than you'

'Stop behaving like a child then'

A car running through the stop sign.

A hit. A mangled mess

Police sirens making it impossible for some to continue their phone conversation

'What is all that noise?' A girl asks her friend

'Just the crazy squads with no where to go'

Too much to think of what tomorrow holds

Too much to think of what yesterday could have been

Eyes closed, deep breath in

And then, exhale

Now seeing only the grey clouds overtaking the blue

A sister to a brother. CPR

Ambulance. Police. Spectators passing by.

'Please open your eyes!'

Brother swimming deeply in and out, in and out of time

So young, so caring, so free and daring. Daring enough to cross at a red light

Now she is the oldest. And of this she has no choice

Too much to think of what tomorrow holds

Too much to think of what yesterday could have been

Sunday, 5 September 2010

An Abyss Of Inertia

She lay backwards in a charcoal abyss of inertia. Silence was golden as the quiet waves of the vacuum invaded her mind.

In contrast, the warmth enclosure of her inner sanctuary attempted to contradict the cold waves of the ever pursuing external intrusion.

She grieved as she turned one way, and the other. Insurmountable waves of sensitivity, that which she was unable to describe, but at best experienced as being acute, raw, deep and severe.

Cold jaws of strength with permission to enter infiltrated her place of torment. Gripping, gnawing, grabbing, all the while only enhancing her need to be released.

She cried out as the darkness threatened to consume her total being as fractals of light exposed her extreme displeasure, seemingly fighting, both in and out of one and the other.

From the abyss to the fractals, the consuming darkness to the exuding light.

She whimpered, unable to do much else as that which was within her was bound by restrictions.

Waves, upon waves of sudden bolts of unfamiliarity. Shock waves of first time encounters that provoked further cries.

A surge of strength, the golden silence was invaded by reverberations of only what she knew to be silence in its newest form. Silence enhanced with external echoes of alien sounds and cries from the outward.

Invasions of the alien unknown permitted her to become accustomed to mirroring the same.

A new sensation, still wrapped in the deep dark eclipse of all that she knew, a gentle touch upon her crown.

Still the battle raged, as the walls surrounding her fought a war to gain an expected end. She clawed at the surface of her incarceration as the movement that followed threatened to expel.

A sudden retreat within herself by no choice of her own, and the surge of the outer source, her land of void was met with a plethora of desires no longer wishing the inertia to exist.

A sea of light. A new world.

Her eyes remained closed, consumed with thoughts unexplainable.

The golden silence was penetrated with sounds of gladness and joy.

A soft thud. An obtrusion within her mouth channel to remove the residue left by her travels. Out came a loud piercing cry.

On her part, the trauma left her consumed with distress as her deep lamentations told the story of her journey from within.

She was placed upon a soft warm surface, a place she instinctively knew was hers to assume.

She smiled her first smile forgetting the distress as she lay upon her mothers chest.

She, the new baby had just been born.

Saturday, 4 September 2010

An Answer To Prayer

I'm going to die'' he thought as his life flashed before his eyes. ''Surely, my time has come''.

He was a missionary in Africa, called to bring the good news of the gospel to the many that had never heard it.

His friends had tried to talk him out of going. ''It's a big step, out there on your own. Are you sure you want to do this?''.

He had responded by packing his essentials and confirming his flight out of London.

Upon arrival, the village inhabitants had been friendly at first, adapting to the new found help and genuine friendship, but they began to fear when they heard rumours from those that disapproved, that the white man was out to kill.

As he went on his daily ritual to bring food and clothing to those that were in need, on this particular occasion he found a gathering outside one of the familiar huts.

He heard chanting and shouts and as he walked closer they drew spears, hissed at his newly un-welcomed approach.

Two of the men he had come to know very well ran over and grabbed him in a headlock as he was dragged away and tied up by a tree.

He knew then that his life was in danger. Their once friendly smiles had turned into twisted contempt a he was met with looks of disapproval.

He heard the cricket sound, and smelt the freshly lit fire ready to cook the bush meat that had been caught earlier with his help.

The women and children hid inside the huts looking outside, seeking comfort and solace in the safety of their humility.

Their eyes revealed the fear they felt for his own life.

''I'm going to die'' he thought ''Surely, my time has finally come''.

He closed his eyes and did what he knew best. He prayed a simple prayer.

As his newly found enemies drew closer, their grimaces emphasised their intent.

He closed his eyes and waited for the what was to come.

And then he heard it.

He opened his eyes in surprise, for it was faint at first, he was unsure if what he so longed for had deceived him. He cocked his head to one side as it was roughly pushed back.

'Sit still''. His captures spat.

He cowered in his makeshift prison, tied and bound and listened.

It was a definite sound. A sound met with the softly blowing wind, and an echo that seemed out of place.

He looked up and saw, not one, not two, but a few hundred men running towards him. At the sound of the rush, he prayed the simple prayer.

The strangers rushed forth and raised their weapons as they invaded the space. The inhabitants ran forth ready to fight, but eventually turned and ran in defeat faced by a number not to be conquered. These tall strong strange men they raged against were no match.

He was untied and lead away to safety. His salvation had come.

''What happened that day?'' his friends asked when he was back home in London as he recalled the story. ''Where did all those men come from''?

''I don't know'' he replied. ''I simply prayed, and there I found my rescue''.

''What did you pray exactly?'' One friend asked.

''I simply prayed', he recalled ''For You have commanded Your angels concerning me to guard me in all Your ways''.

''Psalm 91'', his friend whispered the colour draining from his face.

''What is the matter?'' he asked concerned at the change he saw.

His friend took a deep breath. '''For on that same day that you were in trouble, I and these few here got together feeling the need to pray for you. We stood in agreement and prayed that as the Lord has commanded His angels to guard you in all of your ways, that He surely should''.

He was stunned into silence.

''We asked that you be surrounded, not by one, not two, but a few hundred men''.

On his knees he fell, and gave thanks to the God he believed in, the one who truly was his salvation.

Friday, 3 September 2010

All That Glitters

''Mum look'' Ray cried. ''Look at the beautiful birds, they fly so quickly''. Ray pointed to the sky. His jeans were torn, his shoelaces untied.

''Yes Darling,'' Kat was frantic. ''Wonderful''. She was absent minded as she admired her newly manicured nails.

Kat heard her Mother's voice in her head. ''Pay attention to the boy Kat''.

Where had it gone? It was there a moment ago, and when she held up her hand to admire it, it was no longer there.

''I think I need a smaller size,'' she had mused, flicking her hair out of her face admiring her diamond ring set in a gold platinum. ''It seems a little loose''.

''Mum look''. Ray cried invading her thoughts. ''There's a rainbow''. He pointed at the blue sky above. ''One day I'll get you a gift wrapped in multi coloured ribbons''. His hair was dirty and unkempt.

Her Mother's voice came through her thoughts again. ''Pay attention to the boy Kat''.

'Yes Ray'', Kat grabbed his hand. 'Beautiful rainbow. Wonderful gift''. Her 6 inch heels clicked on the ground as she strode along.

She'd been out on a shopping spree. ''Pick up my things for me Ray.'' Kat pointed at her bags as she searched all around.

Her thoughts were elsewhere as she looked high and low. In the playground park, out on the street, re-tracing every step.

Where in the world was it? Her heart beat fast as she thought of the loss. She glanced at her expensive watch and smeared on her lipstick.

''Ray, please, could you help Mummy find her ring? It's the most important thing right now.'' Kat pulled Ray along. ''She's lost it, have you seen it?''.

Ray pulled his coat closer to him, he was cold and shivering.

She ran to and fro, asking around. Sweet shop keepers nodded no, ''Sorry love''.

Butchers were busy selling the latest piece of meat. ''Sorry, no''.

The homeless man replied ''No, but could you spare some change please?''.

Kat dragged Ray along as he pulled at her coat tail.

''Mum look''. He said, his eyes welled with tears as he held out his hand.

''Not now Ray, I have more important things to think about!''.

Back at home Kat raved on the phone to her Mother.

''I don't know, Mum, I told you, it was there one moment, and then the next, it had disappeared''.

''Mum look'' Ray patted her thigh, holding out his hand. His lips were blue, his tiny body shook.

''Ray please! I am on the phone. Make yourself a hot drink and go to bed!'' Kat's voice was sharp.

''You know, you should take it easy on him'' Her Mother said softly. ''Take some time out for him. Pay attention to the boy''.

''Yes, OK Mum. Off course.'' Kat paced up and down, looking under the couch, out on the balcony, behind the curtains.

She threw back her duvet and found nothing. She sighed, exasperated, running her fingers through her hair.

She hear a sudden crash and Ray scream.

''Mum!!'' He called.

She found him unconscious, milk all over the kitchen floor. His body was cold. Kat looked at his torn jeans, untied shoe laces, unkempt hair, dirty face, and touched his cold blue lips.

''Somebody help me!" She cried.

At the hospital the Doctor was sympathetic, he consoled Kat in a hug.

"I'm sorry''. He shook his head. ''Meningitis. There was nothing we could do''.

''No!!" Kat howled.

Back at home, Kat fell to her knees. Her hair was messy, face tear stained, mis-matched clothes thrown on at her rush to the hospital.

''Please forgive me.'' She cried to open air. She called her Mother. ''Mama, you were right. I should have paid more attention'', she whispered, heart broken, tears rolling down her face, the phone fell from her hand.

She walked bleary eyed into Ray's room, and sat on his bed.

She looked around his room, pale, tear streaked face. She glimpsed something shiny from his bedside table. A note and a gift wrapped in multi coloured ribbons.

She picked up the note. ''Mama Look... I got you a gift''. It read. ''I found it in the park and I tried to tell you, but you were too busy. Even though I didn't feel too good, I wanted to help you because you were the most important thing to me...and I knew this was the most important thing to you''.

She unwrapped it to find a beautiful diamond set in a gold platinum ring.

Kat closed her eyes and wept.

Thursday, 2 September 2010


'I am Supergirl, I can do this' she said to herself as she tripped over her left foot.

She could hear the footsteps quickly approaching.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember her Mama's words.

'You can do this' her Mama had said having found her in the crater after the meteorite had collided. She had amazing strength and power.

'It doesn't matter that she lacks intelligence and common sense Dan' her Mama had reassured her husband later on. 'She is beautiful and strong and she will be like Clark Kent. She will be Supergirl'.

'I can do this' she said. She squinted her eyes as a red laser beam shot out obliterating the wall in front of her. She stumbled over the debris and fell, stunned, she spat dust out of her mouth. She was met with a door. One staunch punch, and the door fell through. Rubbing her knuckles, and her knees, she was met with stairs running into her feet. She ran down them, and saw the exit sign in a mirror.

She turned in the opposite direction and ran. Now where is the exit? she mused.

Pausing to put on some lipstick and brush her hair, she was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps, she looked around, frantic.

She saw a sliver of light and ran to escape. Finger pointed straight ahead she shot out a stretch of stringy rubbery residue which went no further than an inch. Kicking the dismal residue, she limped to the light and jumped high and reached up clinging to an edge. She peered over and saw a glass shield. About to break it open she saw the sign that said 'Bull dog beyond, enter at your peril'. She gazed down at her already chipped newly manicured fingernails and decided against any further damage.

Falling back into a sea of clutter that broke her fall, she kicked boxes and junk from her and brushed her hair from her eyes.

'Mama said there would be days like this' she muttered.

She stood up tall and swiped her cape around her ready to face her assailant, ready to save the world.

'I am Supergirl'. She twirled, arm punched up into the air, hand on hip.

Her assailant reached her, stopped, then sneered. He laughed as he lumbered towards her.

'Mama!!!!' She cried turning and running away full speed towards the bull dog.

CNN BREAKING NEWS: Girl with superhuman powers is chased by burly assailant.

'It's a learning curve Dan', Her Mama said patting her husbands hand and gazing at their daughters debut on the news. 'She'll get it one day. She'll get it one day'.