أحنّ إلى خبز أمي
و قهوة أمي
و لمسة أمي
و تكبر في الطفولة
يوما على صدر يوم
و أعشق عمري لأني
أخجل من دمع أمي!
خذيني ،إذا عدت يوما
و غطّي عظامي بعشب
تعمّد من طهر كعبك
و شدّي وثاقي..
بخيط يلوّح في ذيل ثوبك..
عساي أصير إلها
Today when I woke up for Fajr prayer I heard an explosion. At first I thought I was dreaming, but when I rushed to the window, I saw the grocery store on the other end of the street on fire, the flames were so high and red, it was too late to salvage anything there. Fortunately though, the building was completely evacuated before things got serious. By the time firemen came and put down the fire, everything inside has already turned to ashes.
It was my first time witnessing such a dramatic incident, which is incomparable to what my family have witnessed last July. That is why the amount of terror and grief I felt was doubled when I tried to fathom how my parents and siblings felt when they saw things on a bigger scale of destruction and terror daily for a whole month… Everyday they felt exactly the same as those occupants; not sure if they’re gonna get out of this war alive. I am beyond thankful to god for protecting them from any harm.
The guy who rented this store was an immigrant who has proudly started buying digital devices for his store, he was happy and told everyone about his achievements. Everything is gone now for him and his family. They’re in debt for all the supplies that were burnt down. Their lives have restarted but with a negative starting point. Makes me feel how weak and fragile this life is. Nothing is guaranteed, one day you’re over the moon happy and the second you’re in deep despair.
I guess the most heartbreaking thought for me was that they won’t be compensated for the sorrow and disappointment they’re feeling, and most likely they will have to pay every single penny they owe. Instead of making it easier on them and trying to help them, other people will add on this grief.
Tonight, the grey of this world is closer to black in my eyes.
That sweet state of contentment when you don’t give a damn how many likes you get, how many followers or comments, how many people share that weird side of you; that quirkiness that between you and me you absolutely love, but it never gets that much appreciation from others. The moment you are happy just by sharing it, just by saying, I like this! and not care about the social aftermath. That pure euphoria. I am feeling it ❤
This thought came to me after watching two documentaries one about Johannesburg in South Africa and the other is about the city of Detroit in the US.
The first one talked about how south Africans used to be categorized into Europeans and “others”. others included all other races and ethnicities. This discrimination reached everything even airports entrances. There were places for each class to walk in, study and to work. You were born into this place with limited chances of doing limited things in your life. Until the revolution came and the country has been freed of this racist regime in 1991.
The funny thing is… it still has traces of racism in the lives of the public. This time it is even among Africans themselves. There is the authentic race of south Africans and then people coming from Kenya and other countries that have heard of the hope and bloom in the country they wanted to taste themselves but they are rejected of doing that. That is why the country is still in a very grey area, not even close to being a self sufficient country, which makes me think that no matter how close people are to each other and how similar, they will still find something to discriminate each other by.
The second example of Detroit is the other way around.. It was a very big city filled with heavy industries and motor factories. Everyone wanted to go there because of that including black people. the moment the city has been filled with other races, white people who are also the major stakeholders left the city and went to other cities like Chicago and New York. After a while the city has become ruins and filled with empty buildings and poor families which led to increased theft and crime rates…
The people themselves realized that this isn’t gonna get them anywhere, they need to stop the corruption and they need to coexist with a sense of community. So far it has a long way to go but it is a good start. When the presenter talked to those people of hope and plans for the future of the country you can see the amount of grace and urbanization they have in their speech that some people in big cities around the world have nothing of.
Even though the US speaks of South Africa and Nelson Mandela as a late similar story of how they freed black people from slavery and racism, I really think it is very behind itself. What happened in Detroit wasn’t an act of the government. It is an act of people. Discrimination is very effective when people embrace it and it is very easy to overcome if it is a governmental decision.
Many other cities in the US are like that even in New York there are different districts that are mainly occupied by certain races and each has a different economical status and no one is doing anything about it because no one can blame it on the government, people are forced to live there because people force themselves to be trapped there.
This sometimes makes me think that humans are a hopeless specie in terms of coexistence.
Nowadays the term “lady” is applicable to any female adult, whereas “lord” is only applicable to a specific number of gents who surpass other males in achievements and authority… The strange thing is that they both have the similar level of authority in their origins; the bread kneader and the bread keeper.
Lady begins in Anglo-Saxon or Old English as hlæfdige‘bread-kneader’ being compounded of hlaf ‘loaf of bread’ + dige ‘female kneader.’ So the first lady was she who kneaded the bread. Lord is what is left from Old English hlaf -weard> hlaford =, hlāf ‘bread, loaf ‘+ weard keeper, guard (think of ward, wardrobe, guard, garden [place where you keep or guard plants?] ). So the lady kneaded the loaf of bread and the lord guarded the bread as master of the household.
Why did the term lord rise in terms of importance but the term lady became so common and unimportant? I might be overthinking but I think patriarchy had a hand in that.
Here’s a fact about me… I am very hard on myself. I literally continue disregarding any achievements, any good deeds or intentions that I do, and I only remember the shortcomings.
So I spent an hour today trying to fix this relationship with myself.
I thought about myself as a total stranger and I judged me on that basis. I was very impressed.
She’s smart, reads, loves good music, loves art and sings pretty well. She loves to travel and she’s very secure about her physical image. She loves her parents and never betrayed her friends. She loves to make people feel good about themselves and she truly means the words she tells them. She never yells back or hits anyone. She’s a wonderful cook and has a pallette for ethnic cuisines. She is very compassionate and well behaved… Sometimes she slips but she always repents. I truly love her. I wish she could stop thinking she might be able to figure it all out, though. But that’s about it. She’s really a wonderful person.
Here’s your ego booster for the month, Huda.
Do yourself a favour and write an ego booster to yourself as well 🙂
The importance of Gaudí’s unfinished building is not only religious; it may be considered the “Book of Gaudí” because it is the clearest explanation of his method of construction. In this work Gaudí applied all the structural solutions that he had studied and tested more than once in the works which he created throughout his life. These solutions were, for him, simple corrections of the errors that previous styles committed. Gaudí had learned much by observing nature and its shapes, and by simply trying to imitate them. The structure of the temple is formed, based on leaning columns, with abundant ramifications in the upper sections, whose branches hold up small fragments of hyperboloid vaults, which produce the effect of a forest.
I remember when I walked in the cathedral, I was overwhelmed by the beauty and intricacy of everything built and designed there. It truly did have that sense of walking in a forest with tall trees surrounding me. Everywhere I looked there was this beautifully designed ray of light resembling sunlight passing through the branches of forest trees. The choice of the choir was beautiful. It made me tear up and stirred all kinds of emotions just like any grand, filled with intense art and labour building would do. It was a very spiritual experience which certainly did make me feel closer to god.
(قَالُوا سُبْحَانَكَ لَا عِلْمَ لَنَا إِلَّا مَا عَلَّمْتَنَا إِنَّكَ أَنْتَ الْعَلِيمُ الْحَكِيمُ) … هذا ما قالته الملائكة بعد ما تبين لها أن لله حكمة في كل مخلوقاته، وليس لها أن تطلق الأحكام على غيرها من خلقه. فما بالنا نحن المنقوصون الخطاؤون نعتد بأنفسنا ولا تفتأ أفواههنا بالاستهزاء وتتبع نقائص وعيوب غيرنا من البشر؟ أمقت ذاتي عندما أخدش صورة بشر في عيون غيره وكأنما كتبت لي العصمة. أمقت تلك النبرة التي أتكلم فيها مع من يجرح كرامتي المتداعية وتلك النظرة العبوس التي أدافع بها عن عرش كينونتي الفاني. أمقت اعتدادي بما أملك من علم شحيح وثقافة يسيرة وأمقت نشوتي عند تقدير البشر لي وشعوري بالاستحقاق. كم أتمنى أن أرى نواقصي قبل مكارمي وأن أرى مكارم غيري قبل نواقصهم، وكم أتمنى أن يكون كذلك كل البشر.
My family was reunited, all my sisters and brothers. The house was full of laughter and happiness. My mother was still young and strong and she even gave birth to a new baby sister. It was one of those noisy afternoons that we used to have all the time two years ago. This morning I woke up for the first time from a good dream but felt so sad. They usually make me feel very optimistic of the future and give me hope, but this time, maybe because I know it will never happen again, and those moments will be impossible to live, I felt a bit crushed. It’s been two years now since I last saw them and it’s getting harder everyday.
I hate making the decision of living away. I really feel like a bad sister and a bad daughter, I feel like I’m giving this material life more than it deserves, and that I will never find happiness if all I look for is that personal financial and career path I’m looking for. Regardless of whether I succeed or not, I just feel selfish and too conceited, because I look for positions that some people would say they’re out of my league and because I am not keeping what my parents feel about what I’m doing in mind. I wish things would clear up soon. I’m not that kind of person that leaves things to the unknown, but at this moment and this night, I really wish I’d get a sign or something that would tell me where to go and what to do.
Today, as I was walking to the stationary, a woman stopped me, the first thing I had in mind is that she was a beggar so I took out some paper money and gave her that while she was talking. Her face color changed. She almost cried and muttered… “I don’t want money, I just want milk and diapers for my child, I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise but they’re for my child.” She gave me the money. I felt disgusted with myself… here I was slightly annoyed by her stopping me for a minute or two thinking she might be a fraud, and I get that big fat slap of reality check in the face. She then curses the war that led her to be an immigrant, homeless and with no place to go to… and leaves.
I go after her and apologize, I take her to the pharmacy, buy whatever she needs for her baby and medicine for her son’s cold, then she leaves, broken and sad, even when she smiled at me and thanked me, I saw the tears in her eyes. I felt so small, so cold and heartless. I wish I could go back in time and just listen to what she had to say. I wish I didn’t do what I did to her.
I am so sorry for what I’ve done to you. You are a woman full of pride and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.