I am not a particularly religious person, but sometimes, I feel like the idea of heaven, and hell is life itself. We all experience a little of both (good and bad moments), and yet, the unfairness of life ensures a constant imbalance.





The salty smell of the sea brought about by a subtle breeze, soothed my mind, as one foot after the other beat down on the concrete below. The sun happily shared it’s warming touch as sweat dripped down the spine of my back. With my sun-kissed skin beginning to flush, I began to work on my breathing. My lungs and feet creating a rhythm that only I can control and my thoughts, forced to silence, as I focused on pacing my run with the bright blue sky reflected off the calm water only meters away.


One of the happiest times of my life was when I dedicated a little part of every day to running. I would only dabble in a few km on the weekdays but, on the weekends, my runs would venture as far as 10 km. Running always managed to put me in a good mood and pride would often swell in my chest with every bit of progress made. Back then, it wasn’t about running to burn calories. I did it because it made me happy! I could almost say it was my form of medication and helped keep me sane.

Unfortunately, raging tonsillitis forced me to take a break from my running rituals and by the time I got back out there, my stamina was nothing like it used to be. The inability to run like I used to filled me with such ridiculous anger that I just stopped running altogether. Looking back at it now, I regret that simple decision.

Despite my love for running, I have never returned. If you saw me now, you’d know about it too. Let’s just say I’m not exactly as fit as I used to be. But, THIS. IS. GOING. TO. CHANGE. Running is like an old friend to me, and I’ve only just allowed myself to miss it. So, I am going to reconnect. I’ll start little by little until we are the best of mates again. I’ll run just as good, if not better than before.


A Sad Day

This morning I woke up to the devastation of the Bastille attack in France, reports of terrorism are become more and more common and that makes my heart heavy with sadness. The images broadcast on the news have brought me to tears, and it’s times like this that make me appreciate my family. I am so grateful to know they are all well and healthy.

I can’t imagine the gut wrenching feeling that people in France must be experiencing as they try and locate their loved ones, my heart goes out to everyone affected. I will never be able to understand how some people can be so brutal. But let’s make sure the kindness in this world offsets the horror. 



Diary to Blog

Last night, as I picked up my black ballpoint pen, ready to scribble my thoughts on the smooth paper below, something stopped me.

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Writing in my diary has become a habit that I’ve let bloom on and off for years now. But unfortunately, if someone asked me to find my very first journal entry, I’d have no idea where to look.

If I can recall properly, I would have been about eight years old when I first wrote the words ‘Dear diary’. Perhaps I described my favourite teddy bear, an adventure with my childhood-partner-in-crime (either my twin or the next door neighbour’s kid), or a day of family fun. One thing I know for sure is, despite extreme care, it would’ve been full of spelling mistakes… I have never been that good at spelling.

So, as I sat there in my little orange and white chair, I couldn’t help wonder where all my new diary entries would go. Where, in my ever-cluttered room, am I going to keep storing them? Should I be the only one to read them, ever? Will they end up lost like so many others before them?


In that little moment, before pen hit paper, I’d already made up my mind, I was going to attempt (let’s stress the word attempt) to blog.

It’s crazy how many positives to blogging there are, but the best to me are 1. My entries will always be where I left them and 2. I can edit my writing with a simple press of a button (no messy scribbles to hide unwanted words or scrunched up pages beneath my feet).

I’m not the best writer, nor am I a particularly funny or interesting person so I can’t promise that these blogs will be worth reading for anyone but myself. But, I like the way it feels to create something. Who knows, maybe my little corner of the internet will become something great.


My very first blog post

This blog is my very first post, and I’m not sure what an earth I’m going to write. Well, maybe I should start by introducing myself…My name is Ayesha.

I adore my name; I love the way it sounds, and how unique it is. However, this hasn’t always been the case.  I must admit, I’ve never hated my name, I only ever hated they way people failed to remember it. When I was around 14 years old, all I wanted was a simple name that everyone could remember. Because at the time, no one ever seems to know it. But, it wasn’t long until I’d finally made my impression and wanting a simple name was long forgotten.

The fondness I feel for my name has made its way into the title of my little blogging world, ‘Word’s from Ayesha’s mind’.