الحمد لله

IBHOG came up with the best idea that inspired my long lost Ramadan spirit. For the rules, go to IBHOG’s…

I am grateful for…

- My boys. I remember being pregnant and depressed, I remember my one wish was healthy and smart kids (I have very low tolerance of stupidity), and every time I look at them, I feel grateful because they are much better than I could have ever wished! Beem is loving and tender, and Mocha is witty and hilarious… and they both take a lot more after me than their dad. BLESSED is what I feel when I think of my boys, and sometimes also BURDENED because I don’t know how to cherish such bliss.

- My friends. I have quite the variety, how different their interests and backgrounds are, and yet they have at least one thing in common, me. They make me feel loved and accepted, and the smallest gesture they do touches me too deep, be it a phone call when I am down to cheer me up or a ride when I am too depressed to tell the directions for myself. More importantly, they make it feel like I have well deserved it; they make me feel like I am as a good friend as they are. APPRECIATED and LOVED is what I feel when I think of my friends.

- My Father. He is my wall, knowing that he is there for me gives me a sense of protection I know no one else can give. SAFE is what I feel whenever I think of my father.

- My Job. At first, I thought it was a career dead-end -which it probably is to anyone else-, but now I appreciate the low level of tension, especially with my drama. As overqualified as I think I am for my job (business grad, marketing concentration, yet working in administration), I still have a decent status there, a good pay and benefits, not to mention that I have the nicest boss in the world who makes up for the colleagues who may push the wrong buttons sometimes. LUCKY is what I feel when I think of my job.

- Me. No, I am not being conceited, but I have a lot of good things going for me and I know it; I am relatively healthy, I’ve been told I am smart and good looking, I come from a respectable family, I received good education, and I have decent financial means that spare me worrying about the future. PRIVILEGED and CONTENT is what I feel when I think of all those things God has granted me.

- The wishes I am granted. Every time I kneeled and prayed for something, God has granted it to me; it made me seal every prayer with asking God not to grant me what’s not good for me because I know I don’t know what’s best for me most of the time. THANKFUL, OVERWHELMED, AWED, and CHALLENGED is what I feel every time a prayer is answered.

Those might have seemed like six blessings, but there's a lot more to each, especially the last two; they're ever growing, not to mention too many to count!

الحمد لله

I invite my fellow bloggers on the blog-roll to take the time and do that tag, and those who like to comment as anons as well.

The Visit – an interesting take on humans, justice and revenge…

This is more of a movie review with my own reflections on it. I strongly recommend the movie, but I doubt it will be easily found given that it’s a 1960’s production, so you can just read the review and my reflections for easier access!

I watched that movie on TV with my father years ago; I am not even sure how old I was then, all I remember is that my dad was impressed by its production (French, Italian, German co-production) and cast (Anthony Quinn & Ingrid Bergman), and I, I was impressed by the plot, which I found out later it was adapted from a German play. I researched the play, but I found a few critical differences that make me prefer the movie more for the philosophical meaning behind it. The main theme might seem to be revenge (I did mention that I had such awe for the concept of revenge in this post, but to me, it was about a lot more.

I am not exactly sure what made me want to see the movie again. I’ve been nostalgic to decades where I never lived for quite a while, and in that strange sense of nostalgia, I googled the web until I found the torrent and downloaded the movie (it took me 2 weeks to finally have it on my laptop!). I was afraid that I’d find the movie rather dull and cliché after watching it years after I first did. I am glad I was still taken my every word and every gesture.

I will try to be short yet accurate about the details, at least the ones that got to me, but I make no such promises because the movie is too intense for me to shorten it, and well, let’s face it, I have an entire blog that shows how talkative I am!

Oh and you can skip the whole thing and go straight to the part after the second set of dashes (-----), it will probably be the bottom line that would spare you my nonstop babbling.

-----

It starts in a small town in central Europe called Guellen (German for manure), a town that was once wealthy on account of its mine, factory and culture, but facing a serious economic crisis and on the verge of bankruptcy. Everyone in town is in anticipation of the arrival of Klara (Ingrid Bergman), a town girl who left 20 years ago and returned as a wealthy woman to whom they referred Madam Zachanassian. On his way to the train station, the Mayor stops at the town wholesale store owned by Serge Miller (Anthony Quinn) to accompany him. He asks Miller’s wife to stay in the background given that Karla and Serge were romantically involved in the past.

The train stops, Karla descends of it and people receive her with awe as she makes a grand gesture to one of the train crew by giving away a thousand dollars for a non-existing widows’ fund that she asks the man to make. It makes the people of Guellen more optimistic of Karla giving them the money they need for the re-rise of their town.

Awaiting her outside the train station, were three fancy cars, a big one to carry her luggage, a sort of sporty on with two men the Sheriff almost recognized he’d seen before, and one with a panther in a cage where she rides with Serge hanging from her arm.

They drive to a secluded hut on the side of the town and they reminisce a night of romance they once had. He seems very responding to the memories she spoke of, yet she seems rather vague. They part to meet at the town dinner arranged for her honor later that night.

After the entire town well known men (the Mayor, The Sheriff, The Pastor, the Town Teacher, the Town Doctor) introduce their wives to Karla, they sit at a table looking at the glamorous woman whom they had once known as a poor little girl. She gives permission to the Mayor to say his word in form of an order and the man rises and talks about her dad the architect, her mom, and how Karla herself was known for her school-smarts and generosity for she once gave an old widow a sack of potatoes.

After people’s applauses, Karla rises and says that her dad was a drunken worker who refused jobs on buildings too high because he knew he’d fall, that she must have been a bad student for being constantly beaten by the Town Teacher, and finally declares that she had stolen that sack of potatoes and gave it to the widow as rent for her own room where she could sleep with Serge, “the barn was romantic, but the bed was far more comfortable” she said, causing everyone to fall in deadly silence that was only broken by Serge’s embarrassed laugh as he affirmed “yes, far more comfortable” and everyone tries to laugh away the awkwardness.

She then promises the township a million dollars in addition to another million to be divided equally on the people of Guellen on one condition. People cheer and praise her name, until she repeats that she has one condition. The people ask. That’s when a man walks in the hall and declares himself as the Town’s former Judge from when Karla left town as she says that her one condition is “Justice”.

The judge explains that there was a paternity law suit filed by Karla to prove that Serge was the father of her unborn child. He introduces two men in black suits (the ones the Sheriff thought looked familiar) who had previously testified back then that they had slept with Karla after Serge had bribed them to taint her name and prove that she was promiscuous, hence deny his paternity. They acknowledge their false testimony, and then Karla says she was forced out town in shame and forced into a life of prostitution after her baby was taken from her, the crowd falls silent. The judge asks her about her demands, to which she answers “I demand Serge Miller to be dead, I want his life”.

The people go loud as they refuse and accuse her of being a murderer. She walks towards the stairs with her head high and stops as she asks them if they are really willing to refuse that much money. They confirm, she smiles and says that she’d wait, and then she leaves the room.

The next day, the Town Men make a meeting including Serge just to show their support to him. On the other hand, people come to his wholesale store to buy his finest of imported goods on credit, always on credit.

The persistent theme is that you can see Karla gazing from her Hotel balcony at Serge’s shop, driving him and his wife mad. It never helps that people’s expenses go higher and higher on credit, making Serge panic as he starts having doubts about them expecting money for his head quite soon.

The Town Teacher visits Karla in her hotel to advise her that her request will never be answered and that the good hearts of the people of Guellen that he had educated for years will never succumb to her sinister agenda. She replies to him in cold blood that those good hearts were of the same people who drove her as a 17 year old pregnant girl out of the town and labeled her as a whore, then she smiles viciously at him as he challenges her with his life that the people will not condemn Serge Miller.

The day after, the Guellen tribune issues an article saying that it is not for capital punishment. Serge rushes to his friend the Mayor and yells at him saying that that article is nothing but an encouragement for people to go after his head, then rushes to the Sheriff’s office and tells him that he’s afraid the people of Guellen would be after him for the money.

At the same time, Karla’s Panther escapes from its cage and the town goes in chaos as the Sheriff gives the good men of the town guns to pursue the panther. She screams from her hotel window that she wants the panther killed without pain, a bullet between the eyes is what she said would kill it instantly. Gun shots everywhere, gunshots seem to be chasing Serge rather than the panther. He goes to his house where his son says that the shots were after him not the panther, and then his wife tells him it’s better that he leaves so not to endanger them.

He goes to Karla and threatens to kill her. They have a long dialogue on how he betrayed her when he refused to marry her after she got pregnant. He tells her that he loved her but that he had to marry his wife for the money and that she didn’t leave him much of a choice but to make a liar and a whore out of her after she sued him. Their conversation is interrupted by continuous shots, they run to the window to find Serge’s wife shooting the panther dead.

The same night, Serge decides to leave town on the one train that leaved Guellen until the next week. His fellow town people harass him and stop him from leaving town. He falls on the floor in desperation as the train leaves town for he realizes that Karla’s plot was finding its way through.

Different scenes with him commenting on how his friends are wearing new clothes and boots freak him out. It doesn’t make it any easier that days and days later big cars come with more and more goods to be bought on credit, cars belonging to Karla. People buy more goods on credit, including his own wife, who buys a new fridge with glass display for their shop and a new dress.

The Town Council gathers again (this time without Serge) to issue a new law, a law stating that crimes of murder, rape, and misleading of justice would be punished by the deathsentence. The only two people who seem to disagree on the implication behind the new law were the Town Teacher and The Town Doctor.

The Teacher and the Town Doctor go to Karla in her Hotel and ask her to spare Serge and propose to her investments in the Town instead. They offer her to buy the mine and the factory and all the Town’s resources for a far less amount of money than she had offered for Serge’s life, and promise her that the mine is good for the money and that they have no idea why it was shut down. That was when Karla bursts in laughter as her lawyer (the former Judge) declares that she is the current owner of all the Town’s resources, and that it was her who practically drove the Town to bankruptcy by shutting all of it down.

During which, the Mayor and the Sheriff pay Serge a visit and inform him that he will be subject to an open trial in front of the Town for his previous crime and ask him if he would accept their verdict. He looks them in the eye and tells them that he would. That was when the Mayor urges the Sheriff to help him present to Serge the idea of ending his own life. Serge stares them down as he says that he would accept the trial as a form of atonement, but he would not spare them having to live with judging and condemning him only for the sake of the money rather than justice.

He goes to the hut that night and finds Karla. She tells him how she knew about her baby girl died. She says in the most profound words of how she had walked with two corpses (hers and her child’s) out of that town and that it was him who had sentenced them to death and it has been her only drive for the past 20 years to make him feel the same way. She looks away as she says that after tomorrow she will have no purpose in life.

The next day, the trial is held where everyone voted against him, even the Town Teacher and the Town Doctor who says “it’s just one vote, what difference would it make if it were for you”. Serge was condemned and sentenced to death. Kalra’s lawyer gives the mayor the two cheques, one for the township and the other to be equally divided amount the people of Guellen.

In the midst of people’s cheering, Karla stands and asks them if there was one, just one person who would beg for Serge’s life even if it meant they would not get the money, no one answers. She looks around as she waits some more for someone to rise from the crowd, only no one does.

She says that they accused her long ago and forced her out of the town, and that now, they condemn and sentence the man they befriended for years to death for her money, that they were all the same, murderers. She screams at them and tells them that she bought Serge’s life for money and that she could have bought it for a lot less if she wanted.

Then, she tells them that she wants Serge to remain alive, because if he died, they would forget their crimes with time. She said she’d rather have him live among them to remind them of their cruelty and immorality day in and day out and to be reminded that his own people, friends and family, not one of them stood in his defense.

She then declares her visit over and fires the Judge and the two witnesses and asks them to stay in Guellen for it is where they belong since she could no longer use them.

-----

I love the movie. I ached and sympathized with every word Karla said, and neither could I help but feel sorry for Serge when he was prosecuted by everyone for the wrong cause.

Yes, he was the bad guy, he ruined her life in a sense, and he was a coward about it for he could have run away from town if he could, only he couldn’t; he only surrendered to his fate when he was left no other choice. Nonetheless, imagining what it would be like to have everyone turning against you, not because they are moral and seem to disapprove of what you did, but because it lies in their own best interest. To know that those people would have behaved the same even if you did no wrong, and that after years of breaking bread with you, they would spare you that way, it’s more than capital punishment to me.

And Karla, she went out of her way and literally bought a whole town to bring it to its doom so that she would get her revenge. One can say she went beyond ethics and morals herself buying the life of a man and turning his own people against him that way. Yet, if I were her, it would probably be the only thing I’d want myself; only I really doubt circumstances could be in anyone’s favor that way.

The sense of revenge versus justice is so mixed up in this movie, perhaps because it’s so messed up in real life as well. In theory, Karla was the one who was wronged by Serge and the Town, but 20 years later, she managed to do them all wrong and put them by her own painful shoes and acheiving her revenge in the name of justice.

But what I really admired the most was the ending, how she understood people’s tendency to forget their own cruelty and managed to remind them by asking that Serge would live. She wanted him to live every day of his life reliving that trial and how abandoned he was, the same way she was when she left that town. She did not have his blood on her hand, she had it on theirs, and she left him to look them in the eye for as long as he would live. She did not gloat in a false sense of victory; she did not look or seem happy or fulfilled, she was miserable as everyone else if not more.

It was poetic despite its cruelty, but aren’t we –people- cruel that way; we turn against one another when faced by our self interest rather than stand for what’s right or wrong. We lose sense of justice until we turn it into heartless revenge and then we do it all over again simply because we forget.

Years and years later, it still gets to me!

Bad things, they happen to good people too!

When I was growing up, nobody bothered explaining!

They told me stories from religion and those from fairytales, all conforming that “good things happen to good people and that bad people always get what they deserve”, nothing could ever question that logic.

In the great attempt of encouraging me to be a good person, they forgot to bring my attention to the hardships good people have to face before they get the good they deserved. They forgot to teach me that “good things come to those who wait”, keyword: wait; they forgot to teach me about patience.

It took me 25 years of being an average good person –a very impatient one though-, to realize that I misunderstood a few important facts about life. I was “good” because I did not want bad things to happen to me. My goodness was all about inflicting no harm on others; the point was that no one would do to me the things I never did to others. If I disliked someone, the most damage I could do was showing it by not paying any attention to them; that made sense in my head because it was better than being a hypocrite.

In the process, the person I harmed the most was I. I was not a good person as far as I was concerned, but I didn’t see it because when it came to others I was my own weird version of all the fairytale characters I liked! I could not harm others, not intentionally at least, but I did harm myself, both intentionally and unintentionally! Needless to say, bad things came my way even when I thought I was being good.

It didn't stop there! The agony and the pain of thinking I was good and being so messed up blurred my thinking for quite a long time! Since I was never really the depressed kind of person, anger was my outlet. Seeing good people I know, having their own load of hardships did not help either; it was extremely beyond me to understand or accept that bad things do happen to good people. I kept getting angrier and more resentful of everything around me, and I became my own worst enemy.

Of course being married to a crazy person who manipulated all that to his own interest and being pregnant and hormonal twice in less than two years did not help at all!

It took me a bad marriage, and all the things that came along with it to find my way and learn so many lessons I did not even know I should learn! Around the past couple of years, I redefined my understanding of life and people.

It was such a revelation to figure out that life is not as black and white as I thought it was. Although actions speak louder than words, things people do cannot always be explained from a black/white perspective! People are not necessarily all good and definitely not all bad! It's more like supply and demand but in a more complicated way because the factors defining those curves are not in anyone’s hands to control.

That was my hardest lesson to learn. Bad things happen to good people! It was hard to accept bad things, to understand that how I react to them can either help me understand the how’s and why’s or can leave me confused and angry forever.

Patience on the other hand is still something so hard for me to practice, I usually distract myself until things pass, or tell myself to just sit there and wait for the reasons to prevail, but I wish I would be patient more gracefully, I’m still working on that.

I’ll call it “Death of a Relationship”

Today, as I was getting in touch with my artistic self, browsing random websites for poems, I stumbled upon the poem below.

The structure is rather challenging to read as a poem, especially for those who prefer rhyming ones. However, if you start reading it like a story, and sense the way emotions are built up, perhaps you’d like it the way I did!

I know there are considerable chances I liked it because I could relate, and for that very reason, and for records keeping sake, it did speak for me in more than one part. As a matter of fact, I could fairly say I would have written it myself had I possessed the ability to write poems!

Sorry for the babble! There, enjoy!!

Death of a Friendship
By Harry Guest

I mourn, now that your house contains
such fractured shadows.
This wine you’ve handed me
tastes sour. I joke and you do not laugh.
When you speak, assuming my approval,
I stare into discoloured
depths of my glass, longing
to get away.

Rain drives against your walls. The few
shrubs you have planted shrink in the cold.
Where there was amity, questions
echo between us. Tufts of dark
lilac branching from tall vases shed
minute dry flowers like grief
for a lost fragrance, leave
on the smooth piano scattered omens
neither of us can read.

The past is empty of romance,
its summers flecked with heartbreak
and its negatives destroyed-.But weren’t there moments when
the blue sea glittered, when the lithe
curve of a diver forged another
link between wave and cloud?
I wonder, though, in fear
were those young grinning faces always
plague-marred, was the fun a lie,
were dreams we’ve jettisoned
mere husks about this dirt,
dislike? One fiction may
have replaced another for
wherever I look with you I find,
instead of light, a slyness.

We could not name the truth. What used to brag
lies in your cupboard under lock and key.
You care no more
for angels or the underdog,
translating all the terms we used
into intolerance. Your world
now clusters round
the emulation of the rich.

I can’t feel glad about old times
because I am afraid
that what I see here I suspected then
but shunned the knowing.
The tarnish of this has rubbed off on me.
The years we shared look counterfeit. If so,
more than affection died today.
What hurts perhaps the most
is that in you as in a mirror shows
not only what I could have been
but what I was or am.

A Snack, a Granita, a five-hours Conversation, and Coffee!

Yesterday I met with an old college professor of mine whom I comfortably refer to as friend. We haven’t met during the past nine years, but we’ve managed to keep in touch, thanks to emails and facebook!!

During the five hours we spent talking, I must say I couldn’t have possibly been happier! At some point, we had this conversation…

Me: … so, I was advised to avoid eye contact in case I was
provoked!
Him *laughing*: best advice ever! *more laughter* because you have the worse eye contact when you dislike someone!
Me *extremely surprised*: ME!!! When did that ever happen with you?!! You do know how much I like you!! You NEVER got on my bad side!!
Him *still laughing*: yeah I know, you’ve been amazingly sweet that it’s hard to picture you disliking anyone! But I remember seeing how you would glare at colleagues who bothered you back in college; it would be like you were shooting FIRE then all of a sudden, it would turn to ICE!! I remember thinking that could not be possible even physics wise!!
Me *laughing*: I’ve been told it was a good thing looks don’t kill because I would have been doing time now, lots of it!! I still find it unbelievable you noticed enough to remember!!
Him: you have no idea who remarkable that glare is!!

I was extremely touched by how much he remembered of me!! He always said he thought I was a unique person and that he admired my character. He always said that I communicated well and knew how to deliver my point, and that most of the time I was right and it fascinated him. I generally took his words of praise as a compliment despite the fact that M is not the type who make up things just to be nice, but seeing how he remembered such a detail amazed me! I was flattered someone I respect and admire that much thinks of me that way and actually knows about me something I never deliberately shared!!

Yesterday, I learned a lot of things from M through the most general of things that we discussed; everyday-life kinda stuff, only from a perspective I could relate to, finally!!!

As we walked down road 9 from Cilantro to Greko, I was amazed at how he knew random kids who sold tissues at the street and the guards who stood by the bank for God knows how many years to whom I never bothered stopping by and saying hello!! We walked into Greko and everyone knew and sincerely greeted him; the cashier actually told me I was privileged to be M’s friend, I confirmed with a big smile!

By the time I dropped him off to where he’s staying, he told me it was the most fun he had in Egypt so far! I told him we should repeat it before he left back home, and I really hope we would.

Mmmmm…

In the past week, if not even before, I have been figuring more things out about myself!! Some of them I have already known in a “they-kinda-make-sense” way and were simply re-identified, while other things came to my attention as a shock!

My previous two posts seem to be a result of me taking some time to contemplate and figure out some more about who I am with respect to all the things I’ve been finding out.

So, in the spirit of finding out even some more, I will be posting about my new discoveries for the purpose of documenting as well as sharing; perhaps it would help me know yet more about moi!!

Who knows, may be I would actually find something to write in the About me space!!

Easy as Life

This song is one of my absolute favorites. I first heard it when I could not relate, and later when I did, I guess I was too much of a coward to do by it.

As much as I love it, it haunts me! Not causing me to have any regrets, but more like a reminder to know when to let go; it basically says that letting go –as EXTREMLY hard as it feels- is actually so easy!

Enjoy!!

This is the moment when the gods expect me
To beg for help but I won't even try
I want nothing in this world but myself to protect me
But I won't lie down, roll over and die

All I have to do is to forget how much I love him
All I have to do is put my longing to one side
Tell myself that love's an ever-changing situation
Passion would have cooled and all the magic would have died
It's easy, it's easy

All I have to do is to pretend I never knew him
On those very rare occasions when he steals into my heart
Better to have lost him when the ties were barely binding
Better the contempt of the familiar cannot start
It's easy, It's easy

Until I think about him as he was when I last touched him
And how he would have been were I to be with him today
Those very rare occasions don't let up they keep on coming
All I ever wanted and I'm throwing it away
It's easy, it's easy as life

But then I saw the faces of a worn, defeated people
A father and a nation who won't let a coward run
Is this how the gods reward the faithful through the ages?
Forcing us to prove the hardest thing we've done
Are easy
So easy

And though I'll think about him til the earth draws in around me
And though I choose to leave him for another kind of love
There is no denial, no betrayal but redemption
Redeemed in my own eyes and in the pantheon above
It's easy It's easy as life
It's easy as life
It's easy as life

From Aida, The Broadway Performance (in English) of Verdi’s Aida

Before a damp blanket is put on this one…

I think I get more ideas than the average person; and I don’t mean I am better than the average person at all. I just feel that my mind never rests and is always in quest of coming up with new stuff, most of which are useless and unimportant really, hence most of which are immediately discarded before I am even aware of them. it could be a Gemini thing, it could be a crazy thing, it could be a ME thing; all I am saying is that I get too many ideas for my brain to process, and if we add my short attention span to the equation, it leaves us to the conclusion that… ok I lost that thought!

Oddly enough, I have been having this certain idea for quite some time. And by quite some time I mean long enough for it to register as more than just a random idea! I actually gave it more than a couple of hours of thinking! I know it may not be the most brilliant idea, but something in me thinks it has potential. Therefore, I am putting it out there for a couple reasons; 1) I want it to be here staring me in the face to make sure I don’t lose interest like I always do, and 2) to leave it for whoever can take it to the next level; however, please let me in on it… it’s not copyrighted or anything, but I would really want to have a part and put my heart into it.

So here it goes in a short direct sentence, followed by explanations of how it came up and how I want it to be; boy, this WILL BE LONG:

I am thinking of starting a support group for divorced women or those who are still in the long spirit killing process of it.

There I said it!!

Now I will try to say more about the whole thing; however, to avoid losing my track of thought, I will put them out there in point… this is what I do when I am confused!!

Here are my disclaimers though, which are very important to the essence of the whole support group idea and its purpose:

• - This is NOT another Layla move, and by no chance is a feminist move or affiliated by feminism,
• - This is NOT a pro-divorce move; I still believe a married couple should try to work things out as long as they both have it in them. I know it’s relative, but I would like to know that people do understand what I mean here, and
• - This is NOT a man-hating thing; I do not hate men, I do not think all men are cheating bastards and I do not by any chance believe that all men are the same.
  

I hope we’re clear because I will not be happy about getting any comments that implies any of the above stated points. That sounded too formal!! Yikes!!

This is how it started:

• - Nile Girl once brought it up on her comment page when I said something about us divorced women; I don’t remember the exact dialogue, but I think this is how the idea seeped into my mind, only I never acknowledged it much then! Which reminds me, where the hell r u NG????!!! email me!!
• - When my friend H introduced me to a work colleague of hers to give me lawyer’s contacts; knowing her story, I was shaken with disbelief that such horrors do happen!
• - Something my father said about how he worries about me being a divorcee because here in Egypt the only support I would get would be through him and people who know me quite well to not misjudge me, and that there will come a time when it will feel like everyone even those who know me are avoiding me, and how it is different in the west because the society has systems that provide more understanding and support through different channels.
• - Again, when H’s colleague invited me and my kids to her daughter’s first birthday despite that she had never even met me; I was touched that she wanted to get to know me just because we have similar problems, and I wanted to go to give her the same support I would need.
• - I have been whining long enough about how I am tired of keeping it to myself, the whole divorce proceeding, and pretending to immediate family and social circle that I am “happily married”… I have been whining about how the long legal proceedings are taking their toll on me and how things should be different, yet I have not even tried doing something about it, perhaps it’s time to demand a change in a more constructive way.
  

Now I am not the most relentless person; as a matter of fact, I tend to lose interest as fast as an infant… but here is what I am; I am passionate and I am willing to put my heart into whatever I believe in.

I know it sounds contradicting, but that’s who I am. However, I think that having been in this drama I am still in, it would make me more willing to do something about it.

Here was my trigger:

Yesterday, I had to tell my 17 year old cousin, whom I used to baby sit that I am getting a divorce so that next time my soon to be x contacts him, he would not answer. Feeling how the words refused to come out of my mouth, and actually not knowing what the right words were, made me realize that it won’t be easy once I start telling more people in my social circle. This kinda ruined my weekend and made me go back to my unhappy place.

And it shouldn’t be hard; it is not a crime, it simply isn’t! I shouldn’t feel ashamed about deciding to end a marriage that was nothing but mental and emotional abuse, and no woman should. No woman should worry about how people will perceive her, and no woman should be subjected to humiliating phrases like the ones people in our society use whenever a divorcee is mentioned.

It is sad how people in our society have their own agenda about things they do not even understand, and I think it’s sadder that I have not taken the time to think about any of that until after being in such a situation myself. However, here I am trying to make the best out of it.

So, I haven’t really taken the time to think about the structure of that support group. I mean it could end up right here by me saying that things should be different…

Or a blog can be started only addressing that topic, but then I would worry about the whole gossiping, and I really do not like gossip that much, just the healthy dose that keeps me a female…

Or even a facebook group, which is not what I would want really since anonymity is highly appreciated for most people, at least at that stage…

I know for sure it won’t be any thing more than that for the time being, simply because I am not a planner and of course I only took so little time about the whole thing. No, an NGO is not what a person like me would have in mind…

Oh, and before anyone says it… if there is ever a blog or a facebook group, the name Oreedo 7allan so comes to mind making the whole idea sound obnoxious and appalling, so suggestions people!!! I think I just killed a few jokes there ;)

Today he turns 59…

Him: *calling me on my mobile as I am driving home*
Me: *with utter excitement* Babayaaaaaaa, ezzayak
Him: ezzayek, feen bommmba
Me: he’s with Maat, she’s picking him up today, cause…
Him: *hangs up on me, and calls Maat to speak to bommbaa*

This has to happen at least once a week!! He hangs up on me every single time :)

In my last blog I wrote this long letter to my dad saying how much I love him; I won’t do it again; words are just never enough.

My dad is the one who passed to me my temper and my stubbornness (him and my late nana), my sense of humor, my love for driving long distances, my great sense of direction, and the stamina to be responsible even when I just would rather not.

Growing up around him I learned how one can have morals and ethics and actually live by them. As judgmental as my dad can be, he tried to teach me tolerance! He would always stop me when I start ranting and tell me "wouldn’t you be doing the exact same thing?", and as I start rationalizing, he’d smile and say: "well expect the other person to have the same reasons"!! Of course that never really happened when he’s the one with the fuming temper :)

The one thing people would never think my dad has, and it took me forever to actually learn, is patience. Yeah, despite his well known temper, he’s a very patient person. I mean to actually be patient and have that much faith that those who have done you wrong will eventually pay… WOW… it was always beyond me to understand, even now, I just look at him when he’s silently thinking and can't help but think to myself “I am so glad he is still in good health relatively, anyone in his shoes would have been suffering from some serious heart condition, not just the age related diabetes and blood pressure”

When I was neck high in my own shit, and my belief system was all shaken up, all it took me was to observe how he would pray as regularly as ever, he would set his alarm to el-fagr and get dressed to pray in the mosque. The more shit life gave him (and I already know of too much shit), the more patiently he waited and tried to not let it change who he is. So if he snaps at mama or at the rest of us from time to time, well, who can blame him? :)

I love my dad, I love the times he makes fun of things quietly and I love it when he criticizes me and my sisters, and I love it when I see his heart just melting as he plays with beam and the way mocha looks up to him with that much love. I wish him a hundred more years to live… well, a healthy hundred more years to live.

Oummi...*

I discovered Marcel Khalife last year (thanks to Maat). I have to say, I am taken by him; his music, his voice, and oh my God the lyrics; courtesy of Mahmoud Darwish of course.

I would like to share this song “Oummi” with lyrics right below… I did not post the video from utube because when I first listened to the song I heard it while driving, so I advise to listen to the song while minimized and feel free to read the lyrics for easy reference.

أمي ...

أحنُّ إلى خبز أُمي
وقهوة أمي
ولمسة أُمي ..
وتكبُر في الطفولةُ
يوماً على صدر يومِ
وأعشَقُ عمرِي لأني
إذا مُتُّ,
أخجل من دمع أُمي !
خذينيِ إذا عدتُ يوماً
وشاحاً لهُدْبِكْ
وغطّي عظامي بعشب
تعمّد من طهر كعبك
وشُدي وثاقي ..
بخصلة شَعر..
بخيطٍ يلوِّح في ذيل ثوبك ..
عساني أصير ُإلهاً
إلهاً أصير..
إذا ما لمستُ قرارة قلبك !
ضعيني , إذا ما رجعتُ
وقوداً بتنور ناركْ ..
وحبل غسيل على سطح دارك
لأني فقدتُ الوقوفَ
بدون صلاة نهارك
هَرِمْتُ فردّي نجوم الطفولة
حتى أُشارك صغار العصافير
درب الرجوع .. لعُش انتظارِك!!

(من ديوان "عاشق من فلسطين" 1966)

Now isn’t this beautiful!!! I made my favorite part in bold and bigger font!

* This is to you Nana, I miss you… may you rest in peace.

Some things are true!!!

When I was little; as an young enough to believe all the things my dad used to teach me, one of the things he repeatedly told, was that one should always behave morally and ethically as per one’s principles, “… because people respond to sincerity, and will tend to act the same way in return” he always added.

When he first said it, I was too young and naive to argue; in addition, baba was that scary figure one could never dare to argue with. However, as a teenager, I insisted on making the argument “but what if I am dealing with people who have no regard whatsoever for morals or ethics??”… He would look at me in disgust and say “would you rather be like them, then, is that what you want??”… his tone was always too intimidating, I would back down but refrain from hiding the look that shows that I still had more to say, so he would add in a calmer, yet blaming tone “when dealing with such people, it is exactly the time you have to stick to your morals and ethics, because this is when it means you actually believed in them; this way, you will never lose”....

As poetic as he sounded whenever he said those words, something always made it hard for me to accept that shitty people get to be treated well by me, or by any good person that is. All through the past years, this thought always weakened my logic and made me hate that I am always supposed to act upon my own principles and values when faced by situations when I could twist them a little to give people what they deserve.

Until today! It actually worked!!!! I mean I did something I believed I should do, corrected a mistake I no longer had a reason to keep on doing, and I got a similar feedback!!!

Now the person who gave me that feedback is not a bad person, I have no category for that person to begin with, but the feedback I got gave me a better perspective. It is true! What baba had initially said is right; when you act in a certain way, people respond accordingly… and when they don’t, you haven’t lost anything really… as a matter of fact you only won self respect for doing the right thing, or at least what you think is right…

And oh oh, I love my dad!!! I promise I won’t make fun of anything embarrassing he does, at least until his birthday!!

On another note, this post was supposed to be 3 short paragraphs at most! Boy am I talkative!!

Trying so hard to remain positive here…

There was a time I would have gotten angry; I promise, you would have almost seen fire in my eyes and smoke coming out of my ears…

I would have cursed and cursed, kicked the floor, and then broke into angry tears when I found that my anger is not changing a thing…

And when I had gotten just a little bit less angry, I would have started thinking “WHY do bad things happen to good people? Why do assholes always get their way?” (questions that led to serious faith crisis at a time)… I would keep asking myself that without any real answers, probably because the question wasn’t well structured to start with…

I would have even promised not to be good if that meant I would have my way… (I have actually proven that I am a complete failure when it comes to being mo’zeya)…

Those were my angry times… when I used to get angry at all my surroundings and even myself… I still get angry, I do… I think I just learned how to control it for I have come very close to knowing why wrath is one of the seven deadly sins… Anger IS dangerous… it cost me too many things, but I think it cost me things I didn’t really have to begin with.

There is more to the angry me, I just think it needs more space… and I am not ready to disclose that much for now…

NOW… when the same things that used to make me angry happen, I remember what my uncle once told me when I asked him how to manage my anger “say: a3otho b’Ellah men al shytan el rajeem, etwaddy we sally, ala be thekr Ellah tatma’en al koloob”… sometimes I am in a situation where I can’t pray at the very moment, so I keep saying du’aa and mean them….

Back in my angry days, I would have told myself that mere du’aa words will not take away the injustice, but now I think I know better… I think I needed to have more faith to believe that there is a reason things like that happen, and that they will take the time God intends for them to take, and all I have to do is keep my faith, be patient (a virtue that I am trying so hard to learn), and do my best not to do or say things that would make me less deserving of whatever good that awaits me…

I tell myself that whatever unfairness I may be subjected to is well deserved for all the angry times, I tell myself that if that’s the way I would make up with God, then I am willing to take it… a good friend of mine once told me “enty rabena beyeghselek, so khody thawab and be patient, it is worth it… being patient is hard, you know el sabr morr; this is why esmo sabr, from sabbar… don’t worry, it will be over soon, just khody thawab el sabr until it is”… thank you friend.

So now, with all that is to come, I tell myself this: he cannot harm me… he can try, and I may think he did for a while for he will gloat about it and probably even celebrate it… for a while… until all my dues are paid I guess… but I believe I will not lose, I will not lose the things that matter, for since I have come to my senses, I have only acted with good intent and that can never go unrewarded… I may not be able to see the reward, but if I can’t see it, I won’t let myself be blinded again by the injustice I may feel.

Let this be something for me to read over and over when it gets tougher and harder to handle, for I know it will… I won’t hide my fears; I will face them, and I will try to be patient… I will keep reminding myself that life isn’t unfair; we make it that way when we are unfair to one another and to ourselves, so I will remain fair and I will stick to whatever values I have…

On another note, this should have been my 5 year anniversary… bala kheiba :)


October 18, 2007

“In ma3 al 3osr yousr”…

I know it’s far from over, I know it makes me sound naïve, but I am in a good mood and I actually did have a good day all smiles and laughter despite my awareness that things will get uglier!!

This is me screaming with a big smile on my face “I feel good”… for now at least :) and I will enjoy it damn it!

Ok… now I am ready for more shit, with the same smile and more strength to be patient….

Something to think about...

If

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

I don’t think I am left with much to say after those inspiring words…