Flashlights in my eyes

Thursday 30th June

Live music…Piano…caressing, pressing on, pounding and dancing on the keys with his brilliant fingers…the piano was black and grand…and the music revived my soul…took me away from life and up to the skies…I breathe…I, then, breathe…then suddenly and by an odd chance  I was exposed!!

I knew it was time…




Friday 1st July

Morning: Surrounded by many colleagues…watching a scene from a movie as part of the studying process: and there it was…music…a guitar that screamed on the sidewalk…a talent disclosed…and she joined him on the piano…he was humming the tunes…she was playing them…he was guiding her through the notes…and she was following his melody…and i had him in my head sitting their…on the black grand piano…humming tunes and guiding me into playing them…then we sing together…and he’d smile i get the tunes…and he’d smile when I harmonize…

a girl from the group looked at me…smiled…and said: does it remind you of something?

And I couldn’t hide the sting that evoked many soundless tears to flood from my eyes…quietly i left my seat to head to the bathroom…no one noticed me but my best friend…the bathroom was busy so i stood at the end of the hall…facing a tiny window overlooking the empty street and a dull tree…and i breathed him out…with many tears…hearing the couple from the movie still playing and still singing and hearing my heart still weeping but i choked on the sounds…my tears are silent…soundless crying…and i cried…cried…and cried…till the tears stopped on their own…I managed to wash my face…and faned it with my hands dry…and went back to my seat hoping my eyes are tearless…my pain over missing him at that very moment inserted a sharp pin in my heart…and it wouldn’t go away…





Friday 1st July

Afternoon: A boat in the nile…amazing breeze…kids that look older at that very moment…many years have passed…and i worry…I worry about them…

the boat turns…the smoke from my cigaret blows towards them…so i stop smoking…and i wish i could smoke…my mind was worrying over my kids…my heart was missing a beat…a certain beat i only know of…again…should i be grateful i had a long time-out from that beat? should i be grateful i have it now?

The Serenity of the emptiness was good while it lasted…

Here i am…slightly slightly aching again…living again…here…i…am…





Saturday 2nd July

Noon: the circle felt complete…I felt the belonging…the secure belonging…despite being conscious and putting myself out there in front of them…i know i have the guts many people don’t have…so i might as well enjoy it…act upon it…and trust them…

I trust them…I trust it…it…that ties me to that grass and to that breeze that blew through my hair…to that sky…to it…that spirit…

I feel WHOLE there…and M’s eyes always hug me…always…always…all i have to do is look at her…when i’m confused…in pain…scared…uncomfortable…M’s look hugs me…and i…I AM…I AM there…on that spot on that day at that time holding that book…I BE.

Noon: I know what I’m good at…I know what i want…will pursue it wholeheartedly! 





Saturday 2nd July

Night: The market was so so crowded i could barely hear myself thinking: why the heck have i come here to shop on a SATURDAY?!

Mom was smiling…we were walking inside and each had a kid in her hand…a kid who wanted to pull his/her hand away and walk freely…but we wouldn’t let them…too crowded…too damn crowded and we have nothing but those kids…we love…LOVE LOVE those kids and we LIVE for those kids…we wouldn’t let go…

I looked at her and said:

– “I need a break”

– “aren’t you having one already -ya nasaba”, and she laughed.

– “Not really…attempts only…i need to set my self free…”

– “entaleqy ya bent elmontaleqa “, she laughed again and nodded that she understands…then she made something with her hand -while still smiling- like flipping a burger on a grill.

– “No…Idon’t believe that would happen to me…other things may cause that…I harm no one…I am a good person”

– “yes you are”

we didn’t talk again…but as we reached home she gave me that piercing look that contained: take care of yourself…i’m scared over you…and i understand, all at the same time.

I looked away…didn’t say a word…end of story!





Sunday 3rd July

Very early in the morning: No need to be smart to get it! it’s obvious!

Still naive? Is it a bad thing after all?

Well…I feel every emotion and speak every word SO sincerely…and that is so rich and so valuable…no one and nothing would ever rob that away from me.

Rational I gotta be…and mature as I know I can.

Watermark: Breathless…restless…focused…trembling…strong…emotional…sincere…defensive and slightly slightly in pain…some say I’m vulnerable these days…well…I am a tough gal…so, all combined,,,,I’ll be ok.


Dear Daddy,

Dear Daddy,

I miss you beyond expression.

I miss calling you every night…Sometimes I forget you are not here any more and I pick up the phone to call you.

Forgive me for being angry at you…I sometimes get angry only because I love you…and because I missed you…I missed you all my life…way before you died.

Now…I feel grateful for what you left me…You left me a passion for art and a legacy of your music.

Yesterday As i was driving to the book club i put on a CD where you sang with your voice in a rehearsal…It was so warm and so precious and so painful to hear your voice talking and singing.

Dear Daddy, four years have passed…they feel so much longer…a lot has happened in my life;

Things that you would have prevented me from doing…people you would have protected me from…Accomplishments you would have embraced me for…I did screw up at times, but daddy, I did mend…I am trying my best…I have pursued little triumphs that would have made you proud of me.

Today i signed with a publisher who’s interested in my writing…your name and mine will be on books dear daddy…proud?

Your grand children whom you adore are doing great alhamdulelah…Your music is alive…with my little limited resources i am doing my best to make it alive…I promised you a website that contains all your biography, i couldn’t do that but i created a facebook page that is quite as good…you don’t know what facebook is!

I never forget my voice…my music…I live them for you and for myself…Jumana sings beautifully too…and Hassan has an amazing ear for music…I am writing…I am loving…and I never stop remembering you.

sometimes when i have the urge to break the rules I think of you and walk straight…People always greeted you that you had good kids…respectful kids…They were always amazed that an “artist” had three decent kids…Well, my brother and sister are more than amazing daddy…

I do my best be that…I do my best not disappoint you…and not disappoint myself.

If you were alive, would you have forgiven my mistakes??

Some how…I know you would have…You were always understanding, friendly and open minded…you were very strict in a lovely way.

You gave me so little time as a dad but you carved so much in me when you could.

Sometimes I hate myself for resenting things related to you…Sometimes I think that I don’t forgive you…but, now i know for sure that i do…I love you so much and appreciate everything that formed my spirit and my mind.

May you rest in peace…May all the good and generosity you’ve done for all the people I knew of after you passed away would be rewarded.

I am who i am because of everything you were.

I love you…


Last Thursday of exhausting March

Dear Blog,

March has cracked my bones…It has been confusing, exhausting and mind draining…and really tight with the bucks…

But Today is a brilliant day…It ends and takes March with it.

It takes all the waiting…All the confusion…All the back and forth annoying movement between offices, decisions and urges.

March ended and I’m happy that i can mark the end of a 120 days critical phase in my life.

Today, I settled in my work…made up my mind and settled…and I am happy with what Allah gave me…and i will build from there…not build anywhere else.

Today, although i was very worried about my sick mom, Her spirit lifts mine…she is a very courageous lady, don’t know how i forgot that and expected her to stop caring for her health…Inshallah she’ll be fine.

Today, I decided to recall my old forgotten ability to gain friends…for real. i tried to deactivate Facebook (i don’t need virtual communication,,,at least for a while) but i couldn’t as I’ll be deactivating Dad’s page as well…so, i made it a private profile…i don’t wanna read two liners from people…I want to hear from them…I’ll focus on the real people in my life and the real people i would like to earn their new existence.

Today, I will buy a book and read…and I will write as vivid as i did before “news” took over my life…and I will work for causes…and all that with the help and will of Allah.

From now on, I will have fun with my kids…I will listen to old music i love…I will dance and walk down my favorite street.

and I will welcome a new month…a new quarter of the astonishing life changing year of 2011 and i will set new fresh goals…I will enjoy life, love and people…I will fight when i need to and i will relax as often as i can.

I’m glad i have you bloggy…forgive me for looking elsewhere 🙂

Love will kill me

I love deeply but i don’t love much.

Most of the time i like people or dislike them…i rarely love them…i don’t usually invest deeper feelings, or to be more honest…i don’t allow myself to get attached.

But on the few occasions i do attach, i really and deeply and faithfully and devotedly care…to an extent that such very close friends or family become as essential to me as my kids or my mom…and with that depth comes a whole package…a package that was the main reason why i hardly allowed myself to get too close to someone.

I fear for my loved ones…i become protective…i become so uptight when it comes to their safety and well-being.

A choking kind of love i assume..well, at least to some.

Accordingly i get mad and lose my cool…my blood pressure hits the roof and anger shuts down my better judgment and steam comes out from every possible opening in my body.

I fail to maintain my generally nice attitude and sometimes i try to imagine how i must look like in one of those burst outs and i think positively that i turn from the angelic baby face teddy roosh to a devilish -thin lol- woman dressed in red leather and holding a huge fork in her hand while sticking out her claws.

I feel that either my anger would kill me or my love will do the job.

Of course if the bad way applies on my beloved friends and distant family, it maximizes upon my kids.

I love them with every fraction of a cell in my body and every fraction of my being…LOVE…i mean i would easily DIE for them…I want the BEST thing in this world for them…I can’t tolerate any form of harm to ever touch them…or ever be inflected by themselves.

Last night i freaked out when my kid explained coldly that he didn’t find enough time during the Quran exam to write two required Surahs…I thought: WHAT…my SON coldly LEFT TWO QUESTIONS and didn’t even feel bad about it…then, boommmm trrrrrrrakh brrrrrrrakh crrrrrrak!!

(of course the rational speech was delivered to him afterwards)

so, i am adding emotion control to my 2011 wish list.

Will cool down, contain myself, 7a7ot 3ala alby a zillion watt marawe7 and detach as much as i could.

May love revive me…not kill me.

Kids are raising us, actually!

So, everyone’s basic story…they wanna fall in love, get engaged, their families would fight over silly stuff, they go pick the furniture, try to skip the curtain’s expenses, pay them and more after all, get the TV set, find a perfect gown, pick the matching bow tie, seek a nice 3rd degree singer, the camera man flashes his lights till dawn, they go to their room….and BANG!

Life begins…

And…in a few months a life begins kicking…

Well, everyone would hold a secret wish for the favorite gender…mommy would want a pink little doll to dress up and do her hair…daddy would want a little footballer to shout at matches with…grannies would pray for twins…to get it over with and have both genders and double joy…lots of baby shopping…lots of baby kicks…lots of screams and lots of money to pay and diapers to change and burbing to bat out of their tiny tummies…many damage because of their small curious hands…many nibbling on anything but their meals…copy books to buy, animal stuffed pencils to sharpen, dumb teachers to argue with as they just don’t get the kid!!

And we worry, we get scared…we wish them the best and fear from the passing breeze to harm them…we try our best to help them be good…be better…be best…anything but us…and everything that we are not…and all the things we couldn’t have.

WE set the rules and we pay days, brain cells and many nights so we can raise them…

Yet, Fact is…they raise us…

We behave better around them…we do our best for them…we stick to a healthy daily routine for them…we go out to make them happy…we work just to provide for them…we sleep when they are peacefully sleeping and wake whenever there’s anything bothering them…

Wo do our best to make a great home…we treasure the marriage…we get to know fellow parents…we invite more kids…we watch our language and our safety envronment…we think of their feelings…we listen to them with love…we celebrate them with pride…they are the goal and the award and the test.

They make us laugh and they caress our hands and they kiss our cheeks truthfully and devotedly when nothing else is guaranteed.

They speak their minds to give us a  wow moment and think: OH wow…we made this!

They forgive…completely.

They love…purely.

They are the warmth and the compassion…they feel us without one word…

Kids raise us…actually! 

(Inspired by Dino’s)

I’m mad at People!

This is a rant.

No, a burst.

Or whatever…

I am mad at people…some people i allowed to get close to me…and general people’s behavior. I am mad because frankly -with total sincere modesty- I am an added value to everyone i called “a loved one”.

I am fed up with people using my love and abusing it for their own humorous sadistic tendencies…I would care and love someone but that wouldn’t make me their door matt or call girl.

I am angry at their random meanness…their casual talteesh and cruel remarks…when I need support I should get it naturally from people who claim to love me, not get the mocking and the neglect of my needs.

I am provoked by their arrogant smile that speculates that they know of me more than what i am stating.

I am annoyed by the fact that they neglect what they already know about me, being an open straight forward person and treat me as if I’m hiding something while i’m really not hiding anything simply because I am not a coward…I face and fight if i have to.

I am irritated by their totally unnecessary tanaka…and it is unnecessary because I never batanek 3ala 7ad simply because i am too confident and too nice to abuse anyone to feel superior…and most importantly i wouldn’t do that to people I love.

I am furious at everybody who’d see me and notice signs that i am being tired, busy, sick, sleepless or burdened by life matters and automatically assume i have problems with my husband…well, I almost never lie and never act…and they being close would know if i have any problem in my marriage and facts are: 1) I am a responsible human being with many obligations at hand and life can be stressful and loaded at time. 2) My relationship with my husband has been doing great for a long time…so, bite it!!

I have had enough from being used to feed someone else’s gossip diet…Private people’s life is PRIVATE…not a TV show we can discuss with total strangers.

I am disappointed at people’s ability to hide and act as if they have no idea something has happened while they are being dumb liars.

I will not accept anyone attempting to take advantage of me, to stick around with an ultimatum or step all over me mistaking my kindness for weakness.

Whoever is willing to love me and treat me with utter respect just as I am is more than welcomed to be part of my heart and life…whoever refuses to recognize how proper and respectful and supportive relationships should be could really fuck off!!!

Good news is: Now that i am done with venting about people’s crap I’ve been facing…I can focus on my own with a clear vision and an honest spirit.


Let’s just NOT call it a birthday!!

Come On…give me a  break…just use your mind a bit!!

So, here’s how it started:

My sweetest Jeeka asked to share a cake with her classmates on her birthday, which happens to be today ().

I wrote to her class teacher to ask if it was OK and appropriate to squeeze in the schedule a quick bite of cake.

The teacher replied via the “Chanel book” and said it was Ok but she wrote: “Let’s just not call it a birthday, it would be like a dish party…as birthdays are 7aram (forbidden)”

 OK, I am a reasonable person and I am someone who actually has a good idea about my religion (giving the fact that i studied it, practiced it fully at some point in my life and I believe in it at all time).

I know why some scholars refuse the birthday concept… because it is a new trend to feast over someone’s birthday…and some “religious” people just copied that opinion without giving it much thought.

And thinking is actually applicable in such small matters…As whether to celebrate birthdays or not is not a matter of conviction or something that has been stated in our holy book or mentioned in the profit’s (PBUH) teachings.

And I think that getting an 8 year old girl a heart-shaped chocolate cake and a toy and celebrating that her tiny hands got a tad bigger or that she has grown a little taller would never upset Allah from us.

I mean, Allah the almighty, the loving, the merciful is way closer and way bigger than such small stuff.

While i’m defending a little girl’s giggles over a cake and some confetti, I am totally against wild partying where many sins can be done and extravagant celebrations…I am just pro simple excuses to have a little fun for a change…

A birthday is actually a good chance to make our loved ones feel special and pampered because in the midst of our crazy lives we do need such a break in our stiff routines.

7aram and 7alal has been the game of tennis between people who have absolutely no idea how Allah really is…

I believe that If we really cared to know Allah we would actually enjoy our religion…we would enjoy praying, giving to the poor, being good to eachother and knowing the Quran.

We let other frowned interpretations create a big solid wall between us and our faith.

We look around and see religious people contradict their own words every single day so we create bigger walls and start drifting away from the faith tavern that was meant to be given to us.

Being faithful is beautiful…Allah loves us…We can enjoy being devoted to you religion and We can enjoy obeying Allah only if we broke the walls, neglected other people and got to know him.

My little cute pie turned eight years old today, Happy birthday and everyday sweet Jumana 🙂

Changing names…

If people started to pick on you because you have a weired middle name what would you do…especially that it means nothing but hurt?

A grown up would deal…handle and most likely won’t suffer much from his weired name…but a child wouldn’t know what to do…after all, children don’t really get why one can’t change his name…why the weired name was chosen…or what is the significance behind ones own name no matter what it meant.

All kids care about is not being the mockery of their friends…they would rather have ordinary names than a special rare one…they would rather be plain than plenty…well, children are emotional and derived naturally towards happiness…they would choose joy over anything…fact is, they are entitled to be pure, naive and joyous.

A child is ideal in Utopia or a classic happy decent family with no complications, fights, hard feelings or divorces…as then, the child will feel among the normal grounds of a natural simple merry life.

But kids with weired names, abnormal situations and complicated surroundings get their innocence battled by the delicate emotions involved…such kids, fight authority, fight their fortunes and misfortunes as identifying each becomes a hard chore…such kids need all the support they can get to balance their abnormal twists just a tad…a tad enough to ease sore hearts and confused minds.

I speak from experience here…I have been such a child and I have caused (regardless of the reasons) my kids to be of the same sort.

I have not found any peak of promising light to ease my heart and soul and answer my continuous confusing questions as a child…so, I try my very best to help my kids cope in a way i wish i had encountered.

My kid wants to change his foreign special middle name…my kid wants a simple change -in his eyes- to make things less complicated -in his eyes- and i explain and explain and explain how genuine, important and special the name is…I explained it’s meaning…what it resembles…what is the significance…I tried to simplify the complications in his mind…and i pointed that it is way richer to add loved ones to his life than to substitute…and i realize yet question,

Do all parents deserve their children?

Do selfish parents who chose their own happiness and comfort over their kids needs deserve their children?

Do indifferent parents who wouldn’t weigh their parenting techniques properly and approach a firmer/ more tender way to raise their kids with politeness, kindness and morals deserve their children?

I have my set of answers that are more of a judgment…but really, now that i am old and no longer a child can make a clear notion about my experience with abnormal situations as a child (especially that I’ve lost one parent already):

parents, names, nationality…may be cruel or silly…hard or ignorant

but they are my own…my special own…who created me as i am…gave me all i had and participated in all i will have…they sheltered me, nurtured me and kept me as safe as they know how…all i had was them…and every little thing i loose from them makes me incomplete…

I believe that the strength laying in LOVE can wrap everything with such unique warmth…I choose to love… I choose not to rant or curse what i have…I love my country as unfair as it can be…I love my name as silly as it sounds to me…I love my parents as abnormal as they were…and without them accepted and appreciated I would be ga7da.

I believe no one could have done anything better…and i believe that accepting and confessing the faults is the major first step towards changing for the better…pretending i am a righteous saint would drive me straight to hell…

I have my share of guilt…personal and parental guilt…but i wanna focus on using that to be better for them…I can’t change what I’ve done but i have a renewed chance to fix every single moment and as long as i live…

I want my kids to be kind, understanding, loving and forgiving…I want them to realize human weaknesses and appreciate the trials we all make to be better people…forgive mistakes and recognize virtues…I want them to know how to differentiate between pure and sick intentions…

I want them to change in themselves to be better people and never get consumed into the myth of changing others…

after all, no one can change his middle name!!

بيض ملون وأشياء أخرى…

وتمر بى الأيام والأحداث وتتكرر رؤى ومناسبات تستدعى أفكار ليست بالضرورة هامة ولكنها تحمل الكثير من الدفء اللا مبرر…

أكاد أقسم أننى قد دونت العام الماضى بذات اليوم مستهزئة بشم النسيم…ذلك اليوم الذى تحتفى به بلدى العزيزة بالكثير من الورود والأسماك ذات الرائحة النفاذة…أعرف أننى سخرت من مناسبة لم أستسيغها يوماً ، لكنى اليوم أشعر بإمتنان شديد لفكرة التقاليد والإحتفاء حتى وإن حملت بين طياتها سُخفٌ ما.

بل لعلى أشعر بالإمتنان لأمى…حاملة لواء التقاليد فى بيتنا الصغير…

فقد إستيقظت بعد العاشرة بقليل إثر نوم غير مستقر وقلق بدأ قرب الفجر ، ولم أجد أمى ولا أولادى بالبيت…فقد كانوا فى جولة قصيرة خارج المنزل …دخلت الى المطبخ لصنع كوب القهوة اليومى لأجد طبقاً عظيماً من البيض المسلوق الملون باللونين الأخضر والأحمر…وعلب بلاستيكية احتوت على فلفل أخضر حار تم تنظيفه وتقطيعه ونقعه بالماء والليمون وبصيلات خضراء مجهزة وقطع مخلية ومقطعة من الفسيخ الذى نجح معطر الجو بأعجوبة فى طرد رائحته النفاذة…

إبتسمت داخلى…فقد صنعت أمى ما لا طاقة لى به…وهو المحافظة على بعض التقاليد والعادات حتى تخلق جواً محبباً راسخاً لدى الأطفال الذين يحتاجون الى روتيناً مستقراً من الذكريات والعادات تقربهم نفسياً من رموز قد تبدو غير هامة ولكنها تصنع ذكريات وألفة وشعور بالإنتماء…

وهكذا تكون أمى بالعيدين ورمضان والمولد النيوى وغيرهم من المناسبات المرتبطة بمشاركات الناس والعائلات…وأناقشها أحياناً فى المعنى المضلل لبعض هذه التقاليد بل وتعارضها مع الشرع والمنطق أحياناً ، فتقول لى : دى شغلتك انتى بقى…فهميهم وعلميهم…اما انا فبغرسهم فى معنى الارتباط والإنتماء بطريقتى.

وبنفس هذا المنطق تفسر لهم تاريخ مصر…بروايات وحكايا لا تخلو من أهواءها الشخصية مثل حب الثورة وعبد الناصر واحترام العلم والثقافة فوق اى مادة…وغيرها من معانى أثرت بها…وبى.

وبالرغم من أن نهجها يحتاج جلسات من الحوار المطول مع اولادى حتى يعوا ابعاد الأشياء إلا أنى أشعر بإمتنان شديد لما تمثله أمى من معانى…لأنها…محور يجمعنا…دفء يجذبنا…وأمى بيتنا الحقيقى.

أضحك الآن…لأننى أتذكر أوقات كثيرة تغضبنى لدرجة الجنون…الجنووووووووون.

وأضحك الآن لأننى ممتنة لإبتسامات أولادى وفرحتهم بنزهة الصباح وإلتفافهم حول الألوان وتحول أناملهم الصغيرة الى قوس قزح من لحم ودم.

بيتنا…الذى هو أمى…به حنان وحب وتفاهم وضجيج وضحكات وإنفعالات وعراك يكفى مصر بأكملها…ويا ليتنى أكون فى مثل قلبها يوماً ما.

ونعم…أكلنا مما جهزته وقد أعجبنى الفلفل الحار جداً 🙂

Little foot steps..

I’m so excited…

I’m so worried…

I’m so happy…آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ آ 


My kids are going to school on Sunday in sha2 Allah…

It’s amazing how school changes their moods and regulates their behavior…maybe it’s the routine…the socializing on steady daily basis…or maybe they really need to walk out of my tenet!!


Even kids cherish their individuality, they nourish when they are on their own…

Do I like it??..no:S

Do I appreciate it?? SureJ

They are just as smart, liberal and open minded as we could ever wish we’d be…

The biggest mistake one would do is underestimating their mentality…they may not understand all aspects of life…but I can assure you they feel more than we do…

If a parent is stupid to talk about anything improper in “codes” in front of his kid…let me assure you that the kid feels that it’s wrong, and may have a vague idea about what it really means…so..We form them way early without knowing…


And I have to add ,that I hide my mistakes or special circumstances from my kids if I can’t yet change myself…never think that what we see in movies..Like when a man is having an affair and he thinks honesty is great and that he should tell his kids….just pure crap!!!

They export misconceptions that would lead to corrupting generations if we take it blindly…

ط¥ط°ط§ ط¨ظ„ظٹطھظ… ظپط§ط³طھطھط±ظˆط§

This is our scale…because when ever Allah changes our hearts…our kids will remain solid from the inside…

Minimizing the scars in them is a life’s mission…

Keeping them safe…from others, themselves and most importantly from US!!

May Allah guard all kids. And grant them the best…

There’s a do3a2 that I love to say”

“ط§ظ„ظ„ظ‡ظ… ط§ط¸ظ„ظ‡ظ… ظپظ‰ ط¸ظ„ظƒ ظٹظˆظ… ظ„ط§ ط¸ظ„ ط§ظ„ط§ ط¸ظ„ظƒ..ط´ط¨ط§ط¨ ظ†ط´ط£ظˆط§ ظپظ‰ ط·ط§ط¹ط© ط§ظ„ظ„ظ‡”