Clouds of compassion

It was when I first held my new born baby, when I felt a stinging ache in my heart and my tears dropped on my breast as I fed him.

The ache was inflicted by a sudden enormous feeling of compassion towards my mother who, someday years ago, held me the same way and brought me close to her heart and fed me for the first time.

On that day my love for my mother multiplied a thousand times…I wanted to hold her, kiss her hands forever and thank her for loving me that much.

That much…as I loved those tiny fingers and those closed tiny eyes and that hungry little mouth reaching out to the unknown, instinctively, wanted to survive…wanting to be fed.

The compassion towards my mom made me forget any conflict I ever had with her…any suffering I ever had in my life…any pain I ever went through…All I felt was overwhelming strong storms of love towards her.

It was when I first held my new born baby, when I realized for the first time in my life the real meaning and function of having the physicality of a woman.

I realized that all the past recognition of my femininity was a fraction of the real reason behind that creation…That I wasn’t given something that looks nice in outfits and flatters my posture or has the function of pleasing a spouse; I was given a meaning to life…a way…a reason…the function.

When my baby held on to me, closed his eyes peacefully and starting filling himself with life…directly fom my life…i felt like my soul was floating…i closed my eyes and thanked god he made me realize the blessing of the bond between me and my new born…and the bond between my creation and him.

And it was days after I first held my new born baby, when my mom disclosed the fact that she found a lump in her breast.

The breast that I had started to realize its meaning…the source of life…the outside of the chest heart…

 She was scared yet acting strong and collected, I panicked and was anything but collected…as I shivered, I started to call people I know for a doctor recommendation, and after getting a number or two my mom surprised me that she didn’t want to go to the doctor.

She thought she should wait for another few weeks because she wanted to take care of me and my new born baby…and again, she was being the woman who held her first new born in her hands…and again the multiplied love and compassion towards her ached and ached… my tears couldn’t be stopped and I begged her ” Mama, you just have to go and go now…this is your life…you are my life and you have to be fine…always…I need you to be fine more than anything in this whole world…I care for you more than anything and anyone, even the baby…I love you more than anything and anyone even the baby…please…we will go together to the doctor…we will!!”

She laughed as I hardly made sense as my shaky voice and many tears sank the sentences deep in my sore throat…

she laughed because she thought I was exaggerating when I said I love her more than anything and anyone even the baby…but it was the truth…she is the life and the love manifested in a person.

We visited the doctor and my mom was examined and asked to do some tests and a mammogram.

I went with her every step of the way…I saw the cold two steel poles pressing against her breast trying to detect what’s in it…and I held her hand afterwards and prayed more than I ever prayed, that nothing horrible would turn out.

The doctor again examined the test results and advised that an operation should be done to get a specimen of the lump as the mammogram alone failed to prevail the nature of the lump.

Fear accompanied me all the way…every minute of waiting for a result to show and every minute of waiting for the surgery to take place.

My sweet beautiful tiny-figured mom had the operation, the specimen was taken and examined…And the report was long…I couldn’t wait to go to the doctor with it, I had to read it…first paragraph identified a grayish substance forming a lump in the left breast. As I read this sentence I couldn’t see more words as I pictured a grayish monster trying to take my mom away from me…I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes out of their tears and continued reading the second paragraph…examination proved that the grayish substance is in the mild stage and it was removed completely and no further hazard could be detected.

I jumped up and down and kissed every reachable kissable part of my mother and thanked god faithfully and sincerely for saving “my life”

Yet, I had to hear it from the doctor…The doctor congratulated my mom for seeking medical help on the very early stage and before the lump turned into the malignant monster I pictured.

The doctor advised my mom to lead a healthy life, take care of her nutrition and take it easy…

 Later that night I kissed my mom goodnight, held my new born baby close to my heart and wished for him to love me one fraction of the love I feel towards my mother.

She mentioned the grayish substance again and I pictured a grayish heavy cloud that hovered above us, made is run chaotically like the lost, ache deeply with pain from fear, rained and showered us…then disappeared.

Don’t take your health lightly…cherish life…and treasure those who love you.

I don’t know why i wrote this down…just a gut feeling.

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

I smile

I don’t know what it is that makes me peacefully and quietly smile as i think of what passed in pale shades and think of what might come in delightful pastel colors…

Maybe it’s the winter…

Maybe it’s the year that is ending and the new one that is promising…I have a long list of goals to right down on new year’s eve.

Maybe it’s me…being in solitude…self assessing…and feeling value crawling to my soul just like those many grey hairs that are moon lighting my hair.

I can see, tonight, as i smile to the night and sip from my hot cup, I can see what “it” worth…not what “it” cost…

What it holds…not what it abandons…

What it builds…not what it shatters…

I go out to the balcony and i breathe deeply inhaling the cold crispy air into my semi clean lungs and i feel sprinkles of freshness within…so i smile…

And a new idea of a new dream sparks in my mind like an ever glowing star and i feel young and excited and fulfilled…just like receiving the sweetest surprise…and i smile…

I am glad and grateful and humbled that I live…fully…that i hurt…fully…and enjoy my simple magnificent joys…fully…that i love with every bit of my being deeply and fully…that i know how to start…and know when to end…how to experience and experement…fully…that i give fully…and rebel when i am deprived of what i fully deserve…that soul matters and “things” don’t…that i don’t settle…and don’t lie helplessly and take it!

I am glad I know how to scream…how to dream…I am glad passion never fails me…never leaves me…only lights my path and accepts my heat…

I smile…to the minute it all ends and i feel that is sooner than one might think…I smile…Fully.

أحاسيس مؤجلة

كل أحاسيسى مؤجلة

لحين البت فى أمر ومسألة

أحاسيس ندم وظلم ..بُتِروا بمقصلة

حرف..سال حبره..فبصم نقشه بملزمة

كل حساباتى مؤجلة

لحين صدق..لحين صحوٍ ومرحمه

لحين وقت تبدُل دفّات الحياة

حياة من؟ يبقى سؤال ومفهمه

كل سعاداتى مؤجلة

أعرف ذلك حين أنظر لشمس المغيب

أعلم أن لى وحدى..انا..مقدار لن يغيب

أعلم علماً يقتصر على خيالٍ معيب

كُل إصداراتى  مؤجلة

حتى أعود..هل أعود؟؟

هل سأخبو بين جِفنّى نيلى السعيد؟

هل سأفرح بمَدّ موج بعيد؟

هل سأُطَوِقُ يدىّ بياسمين زهر جديد؟

هل سأبنى وتنبنى بعدى  أشراق حب مديد؟

كل خفقاتى مؤجلة

حتى أعرف لماذا وكيفما

حتى أغفو من كل قلبى..فقلما

عرف الكرى عنوان مُقلة روحى..حيثما

طال السهر..طال النظر

لنسج أوراق الشجر

لحلم بات واندثر

لعطر فاح وانتثر

لقدر يرفع سمواتى للسماوات

لإيحاء وتفصيل بأن الماضى فات

لحوارات كَلمها نجمات

لاشباعٍ من صدق و حرية وإلتفات..

لنضج يفوق الخيال و الذكريات..

لاحتواء براءة و مُجُون..

لفهم كل رائع مجنون

كل حساباتى مؤجله..

كل سعاداتى مؤجله..

حتى استبيح آيات و مساجد..

حتى اجد كتفا لى لاصق..لله ساجد..

حتى اعرف من أين أمد يدى لامسح دمعى الغزير..

حتى اروى عطش قلبى لقربى من الكبير..

حتى اعود..

بل ساولد من جديد..

سأدنو لا خوفاً من وعيد…

سأرنو الى دفء الحميد..

توبة اليك ربى

قرب يمحو كل دربى..

حب يبدل كل ذنبى..

أُنس بك ربى..

ينقى قلبى..

ينقى قلبى..

Love

why is it so hard for me to believe it…

that your heartbeats really breathe for me,

that you are a single cloud sheltering me,

that you rain just to nurture me,

that you’re insane for my passion,

that you see me…really me…

that the value of my heart is safe in your core…

that my sight and sensation bring life to you…

that you long for the mere existence of me…

that you worship through me…

that you are torn just to give into me…

that u see roses in my balms and smell the magic of the seas on my neck…

that you wake to the shine in my eyes and rest asleep on the silver beams on my chest…

that you rise onto my high waves…like a floating star…

and hang down deep with me…in the flames of love…

that you linger when i’m in your arms to linger when i’m so far…

that you’re stronger in my eyes and stronger when you weaken in me…above…

that you know what hope is…as you hope for my next sigh…

that you taste luscious sparks when you taste my traces…

that you desire heaven because heaven grants you I…

that you strive to feed me pleasure exerted from my pleasure…

that you ache to parent a tiny form of me…as you love me dearly…and endlessly forever…

that you might turn soft tunes to thunder to protect me from harm…

defend my heart with echos louder than any storm…

that i am the salvation…the manifestation of soul…

that you dream and ache to skin my back…

that you wanna live me…and die in me…

I find it hard to believe, yet doubts fail to keep me away…because i can’t believe you are capable of loving me the way i love you more and more each day…

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