I had my company law exam tonight. I don’t recall the last time I had ever felt so low after a paper.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone through the Pre-Raphaelite Poetry book Zuh had gotten me last year. Maybe I wouldn’t have screwed my paper up if I had clutched at my Company materials and nothing else. I mean, all I’d be losing is my head, so what difference does it make?
Astaghfirullah.
I’d rather think about something else.
Poetry.
I recall J sending me a testimonial some 2 years ago that I still remember because I liked it so much. Her description of me went something like this:
"I guess this image pretty much sums Lubna up: dinner at Aroma, one second
she’s dead dramatic, reading out poetry from an unbelievably thick copy
of Great Women Poets (or something like that) and talking about the
depth and meaning of the words, and the next she’s having a big laugh
with Saraa and me over something silly."
There are times when you honestly need an outside perspective to shed more light on your personality to figure out who you really are. What J said was a pleasant surprise because she was able to see me simply as I was, in our first meeting. She could pick out both sides of me without coming to a conclusive conclusion that I was this or that. No pigeon-holing. I wish more people did that. I’m not as serious as you think I am. You’d be surprised.
I stumbled upon one of Christina Rossetti’s poems penned back in 1859 in that Pre-Raphaelite book I mentioned earlier, and this one caught my eye the minute I read the first lines. The poem had a character that was strong, self-assured, firm, confident yet tender somewhat; it was distinctively different from her other imagery-based works.
I suppose why I like it so much is because it spoke to me, draws upon an unfortunate past experience, and the words convey the message forcefully yet beautifully at the same time.
Friendships are important to me. That’s why I like investing in them.
It’s a sad, sad thing when friendships are lost due to trivialities.
It’s almost enough to make you want to reconsider whether it was worth it in the first place.
So anyway, I’ve been rambling.
Here’s the poem, and I dare say, some of you might even be able to relate:
"No, Thank You, John."
-Christina Rossetti
I never said I loved you, John:
Why will you tease me day by day,
And wax a weariness to think uponWith always "do" and "pray"?
You know I never loved you, John;No fault of mine made me your toast:
Why will you haunt me with a face as wanAs shows an hour-old ghost?
I dare say Meg or Moll would takePity upon you, if you’d ask:
And pray don’t remain single for my sakeWho can’t perform that task.
I have no heart? - Perhaps I have not;But then you’re mad to take offence
That I don’t give you what I have not got:Use your own common sense.
Let bygones be bygones:Don’t call me false, who owed not to be true:
I’d rather answer "No" to fifty JohnsThan answer "Yes" to you.
Let’s mar our pleasant days no more,Song-birds of passage, days of youth:
Catch at today, forget the days before:I’ll wink at your untruth.
Let us strike hands as hearty friends;No more, no less; and friendship’s good:
Only don’t keep in view ulterior ends,And points not understood
In open treaty. Rise aboveQuibbles and shuffling off and on:
Here’s friendship for you if you like; but love,No, thank you, John.
It’s difficult when they don’t listen. They don’t even try.
They never do.
Enough said here.
