11 Memories of My Late Father

The death certificate says my dad’s date of death is February 4 because the paramedics declared him deceased after midnight, but when my brother found him unresponsive and hollered for my mum and me to come, it was still February 3. Since we know now that he was gone when my brother found him, the Khans observe February 3 as the day the Khan Family patriarch passed away.

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A Note on My Facts and Fictions

One thing that always annoys the hell out of me is when people equate my fictional short stories to my lived experiences or emotions. The things I write in my fiction, even when inspired by or closely resembling real life, are not real life; they are fiction. This is a concept that seems to be incredibly difficult for many people to grasp, especially when they see a familiar aspect in one of my stories.

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I Think I’m Glad that Daddy’s Dead

Today marks a full decade since my father died. I was 19 and had had a premonition of disaster the entire day, which I naively attributed to something that now seems so mundane and unimportant. My kid brother—who was 16 at the time—found my dad, and he was the one who called 911 and performed CPR while my mother and I stood stunned. My mother insisted on an Islamic funeral, even though my father was a lapsed Muslim, and for up to three days after, our apartment was filled with neighbours, friends and family—some of whom we hadn’t seen or talked to in years, but who had heard through the grapevine of my father’s passing and dropped everything to lend their support. I didn’t cry at all.

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Trapped (very rough)

It’s four o’clock in the morning and it is the fourth time you've woken from this fitful sleep. This isn’t out of the ordinary for you, in fact, you can’t remember the last time you slept through the night, if ever. It’s ironic that sleep is your saviour -- your escape -- and yet it is just another thing you cannot have. You roll over and feel a painful spasm course through your neck. Perfect, a pulled muscle is just what you need. Gingerly you raise your head and lock eyes with one of your two kittens who are devoted to you and never leave your side. He purrs and mews softly and you blow him a kiss before turning over and grabbing your eReader off the floor. If you can’t sleep, you might as well read.

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Apathy (rough)

There are three parts to my depression: the sadness, the not sadness and the apathy. While the first two have varying levels, the apathy comes in a lump without warning and stays indefinitely. Unlike sadness which — from the moment I feel the heaviness of its burden on me until the last second when I feel it lift — is loud and never fails to make itself known, apathy is mute. Never has it announced its presence or its departure and it isn’t until days afters its arrival that I realize that I am being held hostage by this stealthy captor.

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A Brief Reflection on My Emotions

How can you stop yourself from feeling too deeply? I’ve wondered and tried and found that it’s impossible for me. Even when I decide not to feel anything at all, it only numbs the emotions and stores them up deep within, weighing me down and making me foggy and unintelligible to myself. It’s not possible to just stop feeling and, more importantly, it shouldn’t be allowed

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A Summary Of The Rut (rough)

You won’t get into what triggered your depression because that is all moot. Rarely does it matter how a person became depressed because there is a smorgasbord of reasons, events and other miscellanea that result in this unhappy state, and the more important and crucial thing is sorting out how one is going to cope with it for however long it is to be a companion in their life.

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Harpo Trades in His Horn for a Pen

Turns out Harpo Marx isn’t a mute after all. Harpo Speaks! is the aptly yet obviously titled autobiography of Harpo Marx in which he (with help from Rowland Barber) regales us with his amusing history. I was worried about Harpo breaking his vow of public silence because how could he possibly compete with outspoken, well read and wildly witty Groucho? My concern was in vain because Harpo isn’t out to compete at all.

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