Returning to the Flow of Life



On February 3rd, 2010, I wrote my first post here.
I could not have told you then where the road would lead.

Life moved on — as it does —
pulling me into work, family, struggles, dreams.
Small moments of joy. Long seasons of quiet searching.

But some callings are never abandoned.
They simply wait — patiently — for the season to turn.

Today, I return.
Not to finish something.
But to continue a conversation that never truly ended.


I write about life —
before, after, and everything in between.

About geopolitics and justice.
About history and fiction.
About the soul and the body.
About free will and faith.

About family, fitness, sadness, gardens, cricket fields,
and the lights of a stadium that flicker in memory.

About the invisible thread
between a boy watching the 1992 World Cup from afar,
and a man now standing under the skies
of a land he has come to call home.


I am a migrant.

A citizen by choice — and by heart.

Once, I offered my life to serve the country that adopted me.
Though life had other plans, my loyalty remains:
quiet, unwavering.


I am not a specialist.
I am not a box to be labeled.

I am a human —
carrying many names, many roles, many memories —
refusing to amputate any part of my soul.


If any of these reflections speak to you,
you are welcome to walk with me awhile.

Raheel (Ibn Zahid)

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