Both photos** were taken in Abu Simbel temple but there’s a thirty-year gap between them.

In the old photo, I was with my father, mother and sister. My mother was pregnant with my brother then.

In the recent photo, I’m on my own, lost in thoughts and feelings. My father passed away. My mother contracted dementia. My sister got married and moved out. My brother is in his own world.

I’m moving from one place to another, trying to figure out what to do with myself. Revisiting the past, looking for the lost Zainab. I don’t know when and where I’ll find her. Maybe when I find meaning in my life, Zainab will come back with a smile on her face.

I don't feel I live a life but something lame and dull with no motivation or aspiration. As the Palestinian poet Mourid Barghouti said in one of his poems:

"I look at myself, from the day I was born till now.

In my despair I remember

that there is life after death;

there is life after death

and I have no problem.

But I ask:

Oh my God,

is there life before death?"

**The post photo is not mine. I'm talking about two different photos; one with the family and the other on my own.