Cotton Candy ..

     I’ve had this habit since I was little of staring at the clouds for long hours .. I loved how they were shaped into bunnies and pets .. and how they sketched anything that can cross my mind into one shape and transform into another everytime I looked up at them … they were puffy … and pure.. and I could never resist the urge to reach out and touch them .. I loved how the sunlight tries to penetrate them with its beautiful rays .. I love how they sometimes make the sky seem as if it has been brushed .. and how they along with , the brilliant colors of the sun and the sky at sunset form a breath taking piece of art .. It used to take me away for along time .. and never was there a dull moment ..


       I remember one time I was flying and I looked out the window and saw an amazing set of very thick cotton-candy like clouds .. it was right there next to me.. a window apart , and all I can think of was : “Wow if I can only get out that plane and walk on that cloud .. and maybe dance no , hop from one cloud to another .. and if I can grab a handful of this one right there .. and place it on my lips and see what it tastes like .. does it taste like morning due or is it like cotton candy .. is it like whipping cream .. or does it taste like the rain .

      I grew up and I got busy .. and I forgot about my soothing and delighting habit .. I never forgot about the cotton candy though.. uptill now I turn into a 5 years-old whenever I see the cotton candy man … I march right to his cart and ask him to get me the largest one .. and with the very first bite .. it takes me back to my clouds.. and the biggest smile’s drawn upon my face ..

     So right now , Mamlakti , I have 2 trails of my smile .. park swings and clouds staring habit ... oh God I hope I don’t stumble upon a beautiful cloud .. forget that .. I hope I do ..

The very first trace of my smile ..


     I remember when I was little , six or seven years old , we used to have this two grand villas in Alexandria , that we used to spend the entire some vacation at , they were round semi-circles , right next to each other separated by this short wall of bricks , each had a beautiful garden in which my grandma planted fruit and vegetables , we used to have fig , watermelon , tomato , beans , mint and even palm trees , I haven’t met my grandma , she passed away before I could but I’ve always imagined her like that garden , a bit of everything all rolled into one , I could not imagine how these very different types of vegetables and fruits were planted in the same soil all around the house , but I was told that my grandma , she had her way around miracles , she paved the sidewalks of this house , she could make anything out of everything , my god she was amazing …


     I used to climb with my boy cousins our gigantic fig tree to collect the really good ones for desert , and I remember that I was fearless .. I used to race my cousins to the top of the tree .. and no insect , bird .. nothing could stop me from going up above ..

     I remember we used to sleep in one villa with our family and play in the other villa - which was used for storage mostly- our fortress .. it used to have this circular green unreachable bedroom window shields, me along with my sister and cousins , we used to misbehave a lot of times so that our mums would lock us in the bedroom for punishment .. and then we pretend that we were princes and princesses locked up in a dungeon and we climb our way to the window , using pillows to lift us up and bed sheets to help us climb our way down the window and off to the play ground ..

     My favorite part of our fortress was the swings my grandpa installed for us , this was the happiest time of my life.. I used to start at a small pace , push my legs up in the sky .. increase the speed until I reach this part of the ride where my heart stops beating .. and I hold my breath preparing myself for the scary part where I might fall .. I open my eyes and look at the ground way under my feet , clinging to the thick ropes that hold the swing , thinking that if I hold them firmly I would control the speed of the swing and stop it .. but then this funny feeling inside me encourages me to let go of that firm grip and surrender to the swing .. down I go then up again with the same speed .. every time I push my legs harder the one before it, so that I can go higher in the sky and feel the blood rushing to my face .. my eyes are wide open to the very blue sky .. strandles of my hair playfully whips my face .. my legs are hanging out of the swing .. and up in the sky I go .. with the biggest smile on my face that the funny feeling I had inside me to let go .. did not let me down .. and did not let me fall ..