🌈1412 – Saturday, 11 July 2026 20:04
London
Sitting at my desk, waiting for my food to arrive. WhatsApp is open on the right-hand side of the screen. A friend messages to say he can’t sleep because it’s too hot. I replied, “Have a nice cold glass of water with some ice.” He answered, “I have a thing against ice. If I have a G&T, it’s always with a slice of lemon, but no ice.”
I had always assumed everyone loved ice, but apparently not. The second lesson of the day.
I replied, “Oh okay, nice. I rarely drink with ice too, but these last few days I have been every day.”
My mate then said, “In Hong Kong, I learned from the Chinese that hot tea is best in hot weather. Cold drinks only shock the stomach. Clever old Chinese.”
Summer has a way of stealing sleep.
Warm nights linger while the stars keep watch.
The air is heavy, the pillows are warm,
Yet every sunrise reminds us
Why we wait all year for days like these.
Hot, restless nights – But beautiful all the same.
Woke up around 8:10 a.m., feeling good and refreshed. At some point during the night I actually reached for a sheet, so perhaps it’s cooled down a little.
A mate had texted me just before eight to say he was in town and wanted to hang out after his haircut. I replied, “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m heading to the gym shortly, but I’ll be home around 10:30.”
I got to the gym around 9:15 a.m. and trained upper body. My mate Benji was there, so we said hello as usual. After four sets of pull-ups, I moved over to the chest press bench. A guy came over and asked,
“Is this the only chest press in the gym?”
“I think so,” I replied.
“We might have to share it then,” he said with a smile.
At first I thought it was a smirk, but a few minutes later I realised it was genuine.
I moved over to another bench for dumbbell presses and started with 22 kg in each hand. He then walked over and asked, looking slightly nervous,
“Could you give me a lift, please?”
“Sure, of course.”
That explained the smile. He had hoped someone would be nearby to spot him, and although I was using the bench myself, he still came back to ask. I helped him through three sets. It felt good for both of us. For a moment I thought I’d made a new gym friend, but neither of us really started a conversation. He stayed around until I had nearly finished my workout, although we never actually said goodbye.
I returned home around 10:45 a.m., reheated a big batch of meat I’d already cooked, and had breakfast and lunch together. After getting dressed, only in shorts and a vest, I texted my mate Karl, who lives in our building a floor below mine, to say I was heading to Russell Square for an hour to sit and read. He replied that he’d just come back from a walk.
I went alone.
It’s only about a five-minute walk from home. I sat on a bench next to a man who was eating. After a while, he asked politely if I minded him smoking his tobacco.
“Go ahead,” I said.
We never spoke after that. He spent the next half hour reading his book while I scrolled through my phone and listened to a podcast.
When he left, I stayed for another twenty minutes. Another man arrived and sat nearby. The sunlight caught him perfectly; he looked almost majestic. I should have taken a few more photographs.
He dusted himself off, looked around, glanced towards me, and dusted himself again. Inside my head, I was thinking,
“You look beautiful there. I wish I could send you this picture.”
But I didn’t.
I worried that the one photograph I’d taken wasn’t good enough. Maybe he’d wonder why I’d taken his picture, or misunderstand my intentions. Something similar had happened once before, so I let it go.
When he left, I checked my phone and realised I was finishing my daily tasbih:
1 × Surah Al-Fātiḥah
1,000 × Astaghfirullāh
1 × Surah Al-Fātiḥah
When I first sat down, I had started my tasbih while quietly watching a pigeon wandering around the grass.
A few minutes later, a woman came to rest on the bench with two others. I stood up and offered them my seat, then moved to sit beneath a nearby tree, in exactly the same sunny spot where the previous gentleman had been sitting.
They appeared to be a grandmother, mother and daughter, all speaking Spanish. The younger woman never actually sat down. She stood chatting while the older two rested. Suddenly she began speaking loudly and quickly, as Spaniards often do, and the mother responded just as energetically. I imagined she was encouraging them to continue their walk because they had somewhere to be. Eventually the grandmother slowly stood up, and the three of them carried on together.
I checked my phone again. My mate from the morning said he was on the Tube from Ilford and would arrive around 3:30 p.m.
“Okay, pal. Come over.”
On the way home, I stopped by the supermarket and picked up fruit, vegetables, snacks and drinks. I probably should have bought an ice cream as well.
Back home, I tidied up, read my book for a while, and then my mate arrived. We chatted for a bit, but the flat was incredibly hot, with the afternoon sun pouring into the room.
“Let’s take some pictures and videos,” we said. “The light is perfect.”
Soon we were dancing around making silly TikTok videos.
Eventually we became so hot and sweaty that we escaped to the kitchen for cold drinks. We were both only wearing shorts.
I filled my glass with ice, then added a handful of vermicelli (samiya) and topped it with strawberry yoghurt.
He wasn’t convinced by the texture, but I explained that yoghurt-based drinks are quite common in my culture.
Then my flatmate walked into the kitchen with a huge smile. As she came in, she suddenly noticed my mate – a tall, lean, muscular Black guy – standing there.
She burst out laughing.
“Well… that was a surprise!”
The kitchen lighting was still fantastic, so naturally we carried on filming more TikTok dances.
A little later, another flatmate came in with an older lady. She usually brings male friends, so today was a surprise. We said a quick hello, but my mate was busy teaching me another dance routine, and we were completely absorbed in our own little world.
By then, it was 18:03, and eventually I needed to get ready.
Quick shower.
Dressed up.
Then off to Knightsbridge for the evening.
I stopped at Al Arez and ordered hummus with lamb kawarma and a tabbouleh salad.
Now I’m back at my desk writing.
It wasn’t an especially eventful day, but I wanted to write something. I hadn’t written for a few days because I felt I needed a little distance from the world – just enough for some unwanted attention to fade away.
But I realised how much I missed this routine.
There’s something peaceful about sitting down at the end of the day and writing.
Anyway…
Around the world today:
Awful: The United States and Iran are still in conflict.
Awful: Russia and Ukraine are still at war.
Hopeful: Peace efforts in Sudan continued, with proposals focusing on a humanitarian truce, ceasefire talks, and a civilian-led political transition.
Three things I feel grateful for today
I’m grateful not to be living in a conflict zone.
I’m grateful for the beautiful weather. It’s very hot in the UK, but still rather pleasant.
I’m grateful simply to be able to sit quietly and clear my thoughts.
And finally…
What would it take for me – and for you – to wake up tomorrow ten times stronger, leaner, more energetic, more confident, happier, healthier, wealthier and more grateful? To wake up early, have a great workout, everything to be okay with family, friends and everyone around, then have a relaxing, relaxing, relaxing yet productive day tomorrow?
Sign up for the monthly letter below.
Goodnight, and good luck.
Ash Khaleem