إهانتى بطبيعتى

فى الأفلام الدرامية…دائماً ما يبدأ الرجل السافل المعتدى على إمرأة بمسكها من شعرها..شده..جرها منه..وتصرخ هى من الألم

فى الأفلام الكوميدية…عندما تفعل المرأة شيئاً يستحق التأنيب..وبمزح…يمسكها الرجل من شعرها..وتتأوه بضحك

فى الأفلام المرعبة..الواقعية..فى بلدنا..يمسك عسكرى الجيش المرأة من شعرها..اول شىء..ويشدها منه ويجرها منه..وهو يقربها اليه..ويذيقها وابل من الشتائم

قد يظن البعض ان المحجبة لا تُشد من شعرها…هراء!! يمسك الرجل المعتدى بايشاربها من الخلف ليجد ربطة شعرها فيشده..مع

الإيشارب..وهى تصرخ من الألم

تهان المرأة بشعرها أول شىء…وكأن الرجل المعتدى ، غريزياً يستخدم طبيعتها العادية فى إهانتها

وكذلك بالنسبة لجسدها…فجسد المرأة عورة شائت ام أبت…سواءً كانت متدينة ام لا…سواء كان هو متدين ام لا…الرجل المعتدى يهين المرأة بطبيعتها…هى لها ثدى وبطن لا تُعرى..عادة! ..فان اراد اهانتها..يعريها

وفى افلام الخيال العلمى..يهين الكائن المرأة فيكشف عن عذريتها!

ارى تلك الاهانات وتغلى انسانيتى في

تغلى بحرارة الرفض

بحرارة الغضب

بحرارة عنفوان الرغبة فى الإنتقام

واشعر باكثر احساس بالقهر يمكن ان اشعر به

انى اقهر بسبب طبيعتى

كامراة

جعلونى عورة

ثم اهانونى بكشفى

واعلم واؤمن ان هذا ليس صنع دين

واعلم واؤمن ان هذا ليس من صنع الله

لن الوم الله ان جعلنى مختلفة

فالحقيقة

الله جعل الرجل مختلفاً عنى…الا انى سمحة..ذات روح غنية..عادلة..طيبة..مقدرة..كونية..انسانية…فالرجل المختلف عنى…جعلته حبيباً وابناً

ولم أُعَنوِن إختلافه كعورة..ولم احاول ابدا ابدا اهانته بطبيعته!

ولن أفعل ذلك انتقماً منه..انتقاماّ لما فعله بى طول الحياة…انتقاماً لان حولنى الى قطع من لحم ..تُثير او تُهان

جل ما افعله…ان ارجع طبيعتى الى طبيعتى…بداخلى اولاً…ثم بروح ابنى وابنتى…ثم ساراجع  كل البشر…فى ارواحهم …

وسيأتى يوم..لن يهان فيه بشر بطبيعته

بقايا ام وجود تام؟

ربما تحرير العينين من كُحله …طيُه بيدين من حرير…إسكانُه دفء خِزانة عزيزاً..هو أكثر أنواع الترك طُهراً…
وربما الإستمرار فى تقبيل ثنياته مع كل شهيق متهدج هو أطهر القُبلات على الاطلاق…
المهم..النقاب لم يعد غريباً…لم يعد مخيفاً…لم يعد مُقصياً…
فنحن من نصنع الأشباح..لإحتياجنا للخوف…
الخوف من طيه..او الخوف من تقبيله..
ففى الحالتان..تتكشف نفوسنا!ا

كانت ترتدى عباءة سوداء ..طويلة..ساترة..كثيفة..تخفى تحتها الوان زاهية..وأنوثة رائعة…

كانت ترتدى عباءة سوداء..مثل كثيرات..يرتدين العباءة..وربما النقابم..ثل نساء إتخذن العباءة ستراً عرفتهن فى حياتى..وكنت منهن..

ولطالما خاف الناس من السواد..من النقاب..من الإختلاف..صنعوا خوفهم فى أذهانهم…وعاشوا..وعشن

وإمتدت أيدى..لتضرب..وتكشف وتُعرى وتمتهن وتهين وتزدرى وتقتل شيئاً ما فى أذهانهم..وشيئاً ما فى أرواحهن…لكن

ما إنكشف حقاً ليس عورات ولا لحم ولا الوان مستترة..ما انكشف حقاً وتعرّى هو الجانى المَهين الضعيف المتخاذل المائع اللا إنسانى المُحطم المزدى وهو أحق أن يُزدرى

عجباً لمن تعرى فاستتر..وإن خلع فهو خلع خوفاً وهمياً فى أذهان الناس فبات رفيقاً يُحترم

وعجباً لمن عرّى ففضحه رجسه وفجره

وعجباً لما يحدث فى العقول من نقلات..تُعيِن على الأمخاخ أمراء فى يوم..وتقصيهم منفى الذكريات فى ثانية

وعجباً لما يمكن أن يفعله مقدار متراً من القماش…فقط عندما نسمح له

Good old blogging days, again!

Exactly one year ago we celebrated our blogging golden years..2006/2007.

We created, back then, a facebook group that has 82 members now 🙂

I and my friends from around the blogosphere blogged on that day to remember how it was when blogging was “it” and the community was familiar.

My dear friends from around Qwaider planet…from good old “Jeeran” from Jordan, Egypt, Precious Palestine, Lebanon and Syria are still in touch…we read for each other or communicate through facebook but blogging will always be so special and so near.

This year i won’t go all nostalgic…this year our world has changed…and the word NEW is not far any more…this year is about hopes that we believe will come true.

I hope blogging never fades to facebook, video blogging or anything else.

I hope writing online never be censored…i hope it keeps being the free skies we let go of our inhabitants in and just soar free.

I hope we witness successes, accomplishments and value all the way.

Thank you bloggers for reading, sharing and accepting.

Thank you for opening my eyes to a talent i never knew it existed that now I have two books on shelves…who would’ve thought! it’s surreal!

Thank you and I hope next year we still celebrate our good old blogging days 🙂

 

P.S. dear reader, you are welcomed to join the group (link above) and blog with us…you can post on your blog or in the notes area on the group.

دعنى أُحَدِثُكَ عن خجلى

أسدله على أكتافى

فتحمل ثُقل السنين

حملاً أضنو به

ويغمرنى حنين

الى أمان ليس منى

فقط من آخرين

 

ويمر بى أناس لهم مئات عيون

يتحاشون النظر وتزدرى الجفون

وتتأسف الشفاه بصمت وزموم

وتنفرج قليلاً للضرورة بالسكون

 

فأنا ما عدت أنا

إذ قابلت سماء الله برأسى

فأنا ما عدت أنا

إذ أظهرت ضعفى

فأنا ما عدت أنا

 

ولو أننى أنا…بوجودٍ ظننتنى فقدته منذ زمن

ولو أننى أنا…بضمير زادت حياته حياه

ولو أننى أنا…بقُربٍ يَرْهَبُ الرحيم

ولو أننى أنا…بعقلى وسِرى وفحواى

وإننى أحاول…ان أصاحب خجلى..أيضاً

وأتحدث وأحاور وأنظر فى العيون…وأكثر

 

وتهرب من قلبى دقة

حين يسود الصمت لحظة

حين يشيح النظر عنى بصدمة

وحين يتكلم وكأنه لا يرى

ويصير من هو..هو…بعيداً..متكلفاً…ممثلاً…

ويصير المعنى…هزلياً سخيف

وأشعر بغُربة..وأُرَبت على نفسى..

وتظل القاعدة: هذا أيضاً سيمر

 

أشياء تَجُبّ أشياء…أحوال تُغَير أحوال

وأنا…يتقلب فى جوفى الليل والنهار

وأتغير فى روحى كالفصول

ويظل قلبى واحد…يعشق الجبار

يخاف …يرجو الرحمة…مرة أخرى

يرجو الفرصة

مرة أخرى

ويرجو الصفح…والتفهم…وتقدير حرية الإختبار

 

فالطريق يجب أن يُطرق

والإجابة يجب أن تَصدُق

والمآل يجب أن يُدرك

A tiny pinch of salt…

We were having sohour, I and my mother last night. she made us the greatest dish of foul ever (Fava beans)…it had nothing but a tbsp of zebda balady (home-made butter).

I took the first lo2ma…tasted goodbut something was missing…it felt like it needed more butter..but the thought clinched my arteries and there was no way I could add any more even if it is yummy.

My mom felt the same but she said: ” it needs a pinch of salt!”

She added the salt and voila…the dish zabat!

It really tasted like it needed butter when in fact it needed salt.

And yes, this is  a metaphoric post…and yes, our intense life issue that is missing something to sort out for us and suits our taste is in fact in need of a wake up call and a pinch of reality to really make good..then we could really enjoy.

More Huge heavy burdens might kill us…salts, on the other hand, may burn if sprinkled on wounds, yet guess what…IT HEALS!

I’ll tell you…

How does cruelty form?

When you have no desire in someone…or satisfied your desire in someone and it’s over, your senses become numb towards them…you no longer breathe them…feel them…eagerly want them…seek their tiniest attention hungrily…so, your senses and hyper heart and urges to seek them gets muted!

It is then, when, they might have responded to you… felt you…gotten infatuated by you…

It is then, when, they feel pain and plea for your attention…and you’d be muted! numb! couldn’t care less! don’t give a damn about them!

They would lose sleep…they would feel pain all over them…they would feel saddend…they would lose their minds over you…and you’re not even aware.

They’d think you’re cruel…they’d regret feeling for you…they’d hate themselves they got that attached…they’d yearn for you…

and you’re muted…sensless…you’re cruel!

And broken hearts mend with much time and much healing.

And the table turns…the broken heart toughens…and seeks and gets numb and muted and hurts another.

Always happens…will always happen…and the pain we inflict will be inflicted upon us.

this is called love…this is what frightens me the most…this is what i refuse to embrace…

I refuse to get  hurt by an eager heart who will change his mind and go numb on me.

I refuse to hurt someone’s heart  and mute over them.

Hearts flip like a coin…Hearts pulse with life…and stop to their deaths…

Cruelty forms in the heart…side by side with love…

And no one appreciates the precious vibrant heart…no one!

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.