The old, the young, and me.



Lately I feel like I have been possessed by an old lady. She had entered my body, my mind and my soul. She is now the pilot of my aircraft, of me.

Never invited such an occurrence; or neither participated in any kind of a witchcraft ritual, she came naturally and stays naturally. And how do I feel?

The old lady is here, in me, all the time, she had taken the control. Plus I live by her rules now.

First time I noticed her presence, in me, it was when she wouldn’t let me sleep, no matter how much I tried, she would use her powers and open my eyes. It was useless to persist, as she taught me what stubborn really is. Damn, she is way to bloody-minded, even though she wakes me up early she makes me enjoy it, silly right?

She puts her eyes into mine and makes me look things I have never seen, and those are beautiful, like the sunrise, or the drops of the rain.  She makes me stare around and be aware of the occurrences while having a herb tea, yeah, a tea.

Since she is here, in me, she won’t let me drink coffee, she had convinced me that coffee is not healthy; it has to do with the high blood pressure and digestion, or some other theories of her. And I struggle between what is good and what is right. Both needed,

On the other hand, somewhere deep in me there is also a young girl living in me. She needs to sleep, she needs her coffee and she needs that mirror and her time. She needs to look good, she needs hours to put her make up and do her hair, and moisture her body with scents and powders. She needs to be seen. But the old lady would grab me and push me toward the kitchen.

She is already hungry.

Hmm, now she makes me eat every three hours, and yet I have no strengths, that food makes me lie down, or take a ten minutes nap and when I wake up I figure it out how much I missed from the day, the young girl jumps up to meet her friends and observe every little detail of them, their hair, their shoes, their clothes, their bag, their way of speaking the sentences in order to copy and be IN.

At the same time as the old lady will scold me and grab me to the grocery store, all she cares is food, especially the fruit and vegetable section, and after she is done she makes me spent an hour at the park, forcing me to glance the sky, and feed the birds, give compliments to children and avoid the rest.

Every time I am sick and tired of her ways of spending time, I get angry and call the young one, for help. And we make plans together, watching a movie, or attend our friend’s birthday party, or just hanging on a bar with a martini. But, when I am just about to get out, the old lady will create a terrible pain of my bones, my shoulders, my abdomen…sometimes I am breathless and I need to lie down and take a pain killer. And that is how my plans end up.

Being aware of my organs and their disabled function.

These two women are in constant battle and I am there in the middle, they both use me as a rope stretching it toward themselves.

Stop. It’s enough. I am not fond of none of you. Too tired to be young, too proud to be old.

However, who am I? Am I the present battling the past and the future. The nonexistent me’s.

One thing I am sure, I don’t like the young one, she is so naive, she would do everything is told, and I don’t like the old one either, she is so stubborn, her words, her rules. But, the truth is they are both ghosts, one is telling me what I no longer want to be, the other is warning me what I could be.

Do I have a choice? Where I was, is gone, where I am headed sounds terrible, but it feels right. The older I get, more aware I am.





Today’s date marked three months of her stay in the depths of a dense mountain L. She lived in the old house of Mr. and Mrs. Piru. Their age had passed the seventy, and hers wasn’t even the half of them. However she enjoyed their company, the quietness and the freshness of the zephyr visiting occasionally. Most of the time the three of them sat silently, as it was the nature of those winter days. The birds had flown away, many of the animals of the forest were hiding on their shelters, some had not survived the killing frost, so everything around was so silent, calm and so white at the same time.

While Mr.Piru was lighting the fire, Mrs. Piru lightly touched her shoulders, looked over with a hesitation, but she decided to speak after all.

“Honey, tonight is the Big Moon, tonight we are having a feast. I need your assistance, to prepare the traditional cake.”

“A feast?!” –she asked surprised.

“Something extraordinary was happening. Why would they organize a feast? There were only three souls who barely talk to each other. Parting means guests are coming, and there should be music, dancing.”- Bubble of questions arose above her head.

“Yes dear, a feast. Umm…is going to visit us “- Mrs. Piru couldn’t continue the sentence while she was rubbing her hands with an old towel that she was holding.

‘A visitor?’- she whispered to herself.

“In this place kilometers away from civilization, in this season where snow has almost covered all the trees, let’s not talk about the roads. A guest is coming!?“- She asked herself, frustrated.

However she decided to remain silent, she decided to help the old lady. Perhaps it would be something different after all those days of silence and stillness.

At this time of the year, night comes very quickly. So they hurried to bake the cake and the whole house smelled its sweet taste, on the other side Mr.Piru was decorating the room with numerous candles.

“Once a year is this Big Moon…feast, tradition…umm?”- She dared to ask.

“Yes, you are lucky being here this time of the year. Although this is our secret, we decided not to hide it from you, because you came here the exact way.” Said Mrs. Piru.

Her words were illogical, pointless; however, she had to keep silent wanting to experience the whole event, without wondering what it is about.

She went to her room , usually at this time of day she makes a short break. She laid down and closed her eyes. She had promised herself whenever she would close her eyes, never to recall the past, to not remember the wounds, not to recall the memories that brought her a lot of pain. Therefore her thoughts were unrealistic and this was the only way it will achieve her purpose, the purpose for which she had abandoned everything.

Suddenly a cold breath of death covered her while her eyes were closed. It felt like he was nailed to the bed, and couldn’t move her limbs. It was dark and she wallowed at all costs to escape from that situation that was created, she wanted to return to normal, and so she was trying hard and finally she managed to open her eyes and she saw a shadow with a candle in its hand standing silent at the end of her bed.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaa”- she screamed and couldn’t catch her breath.

“Calm down dear, it’s me.”- Spoke with Mrs. Piru with tenderness.

“I guess I had fallen asleep.”

“He is here.”  Said Mrs..Piru.

She got up out of bed, put on her shoes and followed the old woman with a candle, lightning the stairs toward the waiting room.

She was still stunned by what had just happened, her heart was still beating as an old clock, but her curiosity to see the visitor led her to the waiting room, which was full of candles lit by Mr. Piro. The cake stood on the table and four empty wine glasses.

The room was warm, but the objects appeared strange by the candle lights, they seemed unreal as were her dreams anew. The windows were closed by the darkness of the night, while in the sofa next to the fireplace sat a man’s silhouette. She couldn’t see him clearly, the objects of the room were moving as the light of the candles was fleeing over. So she concentrated her look to see the visitor, who had the shape of a man but very uncertain, although the candles were away from him, his body still shone like  it was covered by the  flashing rays of the moon that had deserted the sky that night.

While she watched, his face became clearer; his eyes were staring at her, shining and penetrating eyes. She felt his gaze which entered and spilled across her veins. She panicked for a moment and dared to approach him, while suddenly Mrs. Piru clutched her arm with her hand.

“No”- She said.

“Now is the time to raise a toast for our visitor” – She filled the cups with red wine. She gave one cup to him and the rest to them and they all were standing around the table.

The visitor’s body was shining like he was wearing a phosphoric suit. Mr.Piru whispered a few words in an unknown language and drank a sip of wine so did she. They sat down at the table, joined their hands and touched their foreheads with their finger top, and stayed in that position for a very long time.

She didn’t enjoy their ritual, but continued to look at the mysterious friend who so far hadn’t said a single word. After finishing that unknown ritual, Ms. Piru grabbed with his hand the visitors hand the other one with Mrs. Piru , while she grabbed her hand they formed a hand circle. After a few moments the phosphoric light of the new friend began to penetrate their bodies slowly, moving toward her fingers too. At that moment she was terrified, jumped from the table and shouted:

“What’s going on here, who is this?”

The three of them raised their heads looking at her and smiled.

“Fear not dear, this is Mino, our son “- said Mr. Piro

“Why doesn’t he speak?” – She asked with a trembling voice.

“It is enough that he is here, we are grateful to the Moon Kingdom and the Holly Frost- said Mrs. Piro.

She did not remember that her friend had mentioned a brother. She always complained that it was the only daughter and had been unable to convince the parents to live with her in town. It is certain she would not know for her brother that her parents kept secret. Too many questions were born. What is this visit about, why he came here in this awful weather, how did he come, why he is he illuminated, why he doesn’t speak?

She couldn’t dare ask these questions. Therefore she mumbled,

“How long he will stay?

“Till the dawn darling.” – Mrs. Piro answered with a kind voice.

“But if you are tired, you are not obliged to stay “- intervened Mr. Piro.

She crossed her arms around her chest, trying to stop her heart not to leave her body at that moment. She walked a few steps back and saluted them by saying: “Good night”.

They just nodded and continued the ritual with hand circuit. While he was gazing at her and followed her as she left the room.

“It must be the wine, nothing unusual. It’s their right to keep his son a secret. Perhaps they have a good reason and should remain so.”

She closed the door with a picket, to feel more secure. Stripped off her clothes and lay down under the quilt. Tonight she will visit India because it was in her dream itinerary. She drew the bindi in the middle of her forehead, put the pearls glistening on the head, wore the colorful long dress and began to dance and move her head once to the left and then to the right in the middle of the crowd with the sound of Brahma Di-DA! Da! DA!

And so she fell asleep to wake  up by a touch on her cheekbones. She opened her eyes and dared not say a word. His eyesight was so innocent, so deep, so painless.

“You should not have chosen Brahma, it sounds crisp. Shanta is fundamentally, combined with the sound of the Indian Ocean waves would have created a hypnotic sensation and you couldn’t feel my touch “- he whispered.

She still couldn’t say a word; she was just hearing her breathing and felt the vibrations of her lower lip.

He continued to look her in the eyes, as he had found a treasure after thousands of years of mining.

“I still don’t know your name”- he said.

“I don’t know what my name is, too.”- She barely responded. She had no fear of the unknown, because her whole life she was looking for it. She was afraid of his calm and his gaze.

“They felt a sleep, they have no age to wait for the dawn anymore. So I came here, but I won’t be staying long.”- He continued while his fingertips were touching her neck which was already wet.

“Once this was my room, this was my bed and I always found it empty ‘- and he went on telling her several stories, stories that she had never heard. She experienced all of them with him, she got tired, and fell in a deep sleep.

When she woke up, she looked around, he was not there. She ran down to look for him, but he was not there too. Mr. and Mrs. Piro, were doing their usual chores, and they did not notice her presence,

‘Where is he?’ –She asked them.

“Who?” – They both answered.

She went out to look for him. The entire lawn was covered with snow, which shone as if it were painted with diamond wax and there was no trace, no footprints.

She took a deep breath and felt like her lungs filled with fresh and cold air.

“Until the next Big Moon.” – She said and went back inside.


This too shall pass.


A father in his deathbed handed a closed envelope to his son and said,

“You shall open it when you’ll feel you have no way out of a situation.”

His son had a lot of struggles during his life, but he didn’t open it, until he came upon a very hard situation and thought his father’s gift may help him. When he opened it, he was amazed that there was  just a short written note, “This too shall pass.”

Isn’t that true?  If we look back at our lives, does our previous struggles seem meaningless now? Will our current struggles mean the same in the future?

This short story and short phrase is just a reminder to myself and You. Embrace the day!




Phobias-the beasts that live in our head.

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It was ten years ago when I said goodbye to the last airplane I had a short flight with. I even claimed that only stupid people choose to travel by airplane. Since then I refused to think about it, and never take into consideration to fly again.

“I will explore the world by Google Maps, I don’t need to visit faraway countries.”- I always comforted myself.

Despite other phobias, aerophobia was the most frightening phobia that I have ever had.

However, few months ago I couldn’t refuse my sisters offer to visit Paris. Oh, Paris, the city of lights, the city of my all time dreams. If I could choose from all the cities of the world, Paris was always the first on my list.

Bus drive wasn’t even an option, my sister had already booked the tickets. I was overwhelmed and at the same time scared to death. There were only three days left until the flight, and I could feel the same anxiety and fear as I did ten years ago.

I arose between my greatest desire and greatest fear. Again I was in a position Me vs Me.

I was telling people about the power of our mind, the power of our thoughts, I healed myself from a terrible disease with that power, I even wrote a book about it. But, now I was acting like a cowardice denying the power I had within and letting the fear conquer me, isn’t the fear just a thought too?

The only way to overcome the fear was to face it, to look directly into the beast’s eyes.  Therefore, I made a decision, no matter how painful it will be, I have to prove to myself, once more. That I am stronger than my fear.


Oh, it wasn’t easy. The moment when the airplane had to take-off my sister asked me.

“How do you feel, how much you are scared from 1 to 10?”

“Ten”- I replied and I took her hand.

It were the exact same feelings, the exact jiggling  pains in my stomach. I closed my eyes and I could feel my heart beating as fast as the speed of airplane, I had a shower of sweat all over my head and I couldn’t move my limbs. I thought If I move I would interfere the airplanes balance. My body froze and it wasn’t there anymore, all I could feel was my own breath and my  own thoughts.

“Why did I do this to myself, why did I agree to torture my own being, what I was thinking, why did I put myself at this flying box moving with an incredible speed and high, why did I leave my comfort zone, no Paris, nothing deserves this torture. I am one of those stupid people now.”

The airplane normalized, the stewardesses started to sell things, people untied their security belts, my sister felt asleep, but not me, I was still on the shocking zone.

I took the courage to look around, everything seemed normal, people were eating, drinking, chatting with each other, it was just me, wet and stoned.

According to researchers there are around 100.000 flights per day and the statistics of airplane crashing are 1 in 29.4 million. “You’re much more likely to die getting to the airport than you are flying in the plane,” said the editors at Discovery. Sure, it is the safest way of traveling, but why I don’t tremble and sweat while driving, why don’t I wear an helmet whenever I go. It is because I believe in the process of live, because I feel save on the ground and because my mind patterns are structured on belief. I needed to work on those old belief patterns. Fears are just nonexistent beasts in our head that we create with our thoughts. Nothing more and nothing less.


“Isn’t the fear just a thought?” – I asked myself.

“Can thoughts change? – I asked myself again.

Of course they can. I have proved this to myself a lot of times, why not now, and again. So, I decided to use some affirmations,

“I can do it, I am stronger than my fear, I love flying, I am enjoying flying, what a wonderful feeling to fly, to be above the clouds, near to the source. It is amazingly enjoyable, I trust the process of life, everything happens for my greatest good. This one is one of them.”

It was the only way to trick my mind, to say the opposite of what I was feeling, but it wasn’t easy and kept staring at my watch, we weren’t even on the middle of the destination.  So,  again I would close my eyes and continued with the affirmations, ” I can do it, You can do it. Yes, you can do it…”

The fact that I kept my eyes closed, concentrating on my breathing and saying the affirmations put me in a deep stage of meditations. I lost the trace of time. I only remember the voice of stewardess telling us to prepare for the landing.

I opened my eyes and the beast wasn’t there anymore, my body had calmed down, I had a delightful feeling on my stomach and I dared myself to look at the oval shaped window, the view was amazing such as were my feelings.

When I got out from the airplane I hugged my sister so tightly and thanked her for doing me such a great favor and  I looked up in the sky and shouted: “I DID IT!”

Last week I had another trip, and I really enjoyed the flight. Share if you believe this might help someone.

Thank you for reading! 🙂

Childhood village

It wasn’t the sun that moved, but it was the wind that blew a new ugly swarm and a surprise rain.

Some holidaymakers were not disturbed; they liked to take natural bath in the waves of the lake, which easily rubbed their bodies. Others ran to gather their children, tents, belongings and get away from the beach as soon as possible.

We also ran to our car. It was a chaotic situation. A situation that you experience during presidential selection meetings. People seem lost and unaware where and why they are there, and where they should go. The traffic jam was impossible to pass. So I turned the wheel toward an alley and I knew exactly where it will lead us.

After some moments my friend realized that I had lost my way, but it was not true. I was going to the village of my past, to the place of storks, who had already emigrated, and they hadn’t left even a single feather behind, besides damnation, shadows and ghosts.

Many years have passed since no one lives there. The youth had abandoned that place, the elders passed away.
Along the way she tried to persuade me to return, that place meant nothing to her.

“Where are you headed to, did you lose your mind, or this is just one of those mad things you always do? Come on, we are not young anymore.”

I didn’t want to listen to her. I had already breached the threshold of the past and watched everything through the eyes of my childhood.

The village was the same, with the same name, the same streets, the same street lights that had already been lighted by the ashen shadow. The rain had stopped. But the clouds still covered the sun and had woven a veil of the evening, from day to night. Sometimes the lightning strikes will appear, stop our heartbeats and disappear.

My friend was afraid and decided to wait me in the car. She repeated several times not to stay to long while I anxiously wanted to approach the house of mirth and memories.

It wasn’t just me that had changed, but everything else had changed. You couldn’t see the lake from the huge canes covering it out. Apple trees and plum trees, whose fruits were once so delicious, they looked like stilettos now. That place was dead.

Souls wandered freely because their graves were far away. Caught between two worlds, neither here nor there. I barely recognized the house, it was covered with bushes. Alleys with thin tiles, which once I washed them every day was like spider web woven by wild pastures. I was stunned at the gate gazing. I wanted to enter, I was pushing the door with all my powers, but the door rejected. It was crucified. Once I went to jump over the fence, I heard my grandfather’s voice.

“No, don’t my darling! How many times I have told you to beware of snakes.” I goose bumps from his voice, I turned my head to see where he was talking from, but there was nothing. Except fog and turbulence. At that moment of stagnation I cried spontaneously.

-Grandpa, grandpa dear, where are you? Where are you Grandpa, O my darling I miss you a lot!

It was a grave serenity. I started trembling and tears rolled on my cheeks. My faint voice as an echo returned and tossed from the walls of the old and cracked house. I waited and waited in vain that he will reappear and see his wrinkled face, his snowy hair and that wonderful smile which appears just at those moments when a grandfather approaches his granddaughter to embrace. Although I was anxiously waiting for the reappearance of my grandfather, he didn’t. But after a stunning lightning flashed I could hear his voice again.

“Come on, your grandma is waiting for you, the pancakes are ready. And don’t eat all of them you hoggish child.”

The gate was already open, alley tiles were shining, and I could smell the pancakes everywhere. My grandmother and aunt Nurie were sitting on the porch and they smiled when they saw me approaching. How much I missed them and I ran to hug them tightly, but I was stopped by my phone ringing…

“Come back quickly! This place is cursed!” My friend cried terrified.

“What happened you silly woman, why do you yowl like a breeding cat, did you see any ghost?!” I scolded her.

“Even worse, worse, just in front of me in the yard of this mosque there is a hearse with four white horses who are neighing dreadfully after every shot of the lightnings,” my terrified friend cried.

I was shivering, while I was trying to get back at the car. I wasn’t afraid, I was just too sad that my childhood was not there anymore, it had faded away together with its beauty. I was left alone with the pain of life, intoxicated.

“Let’s go, quickly,” I said. And I looked over to see the house for the last time. Aunt Nurie was the only one that greeted us from the window of her room. She had passed away eleven years ago.

© Copyright 2016 Burbuqe Raufi