My grandfather’s name was Sheikh Abdulla, he died when I was a teenager, I didn’t get to know him much.. Cause he was not much of a talker, yet I feel this strong connection & closeness to him.. I dream of him often, saying hello & asking about the rest of the family, sometimes he advices me on dilemmas I’m facing & his face always glows so much that sometimes I can’t see his facial features well..
He used babysit me when I was little often, I used to follow him like a shadow for hours in silence, watch him take care of his plants at his backyard, make herbal potions/ infusions, I can still recall the different scents.. He had so many letters scattered on the floor, hundreds of them, once I opened one & it was a query about a skin condition from someone in another country.. See he was a traditional Healer/ a Herbalist & a religious man “me6awwa3” (thats why he is wearing “3emaamah” on his head).. He dedicated his life to heal people’s ailments for no fee “fe sabeel Allah”.. I’m not going to lie & use my grandfather for marketing purposes, I never had the time to learn anything from him, I wish I had.. On the contrary, I grew up confused & went far trying to find out who I’m & what I’m suppose to do in life at all the wrong places: film making, marketing, real estate.. it wasn’t me, I felt miss-placed, just like a bored guest about to feel worn & wanna go home, but didn’t know where home is.. I should have looked for clues to find myself somewhere closer, at my roots, in my blood, in my heart, cause many years later, it turned out that all this time, I was my grandfather’s little granddaughter ❤