Friday, July 31, 2009

Fantasia


Fantasia


I just want to see you,
Pick up the phone; dial your number,
-Which I do not know-
But in my dreams and fantasies; By heart I do,
We dont waste time, we dont linger,
you say the words, and my soul answers,
I dont hesitate to reply back, I dont falter
Three words and a promise;By heart I do,

Its not only the magic in your eyes, Its something stronger,
So easily, it hastily got me drowning deeper and faster,
I Cant help it any longer,
For you I'm falling weakly,
Willingly, I'm like a ring in your finger,
But its no fluster,
Its a Jubilant wonder,
Uncontrollable; I surrender,
By heart, I do!

And in my dreams and fantasies,
We dont slow down; we dont need to,
With passion as deep, as the ocean and seas,
Why wait, what for,
When both of us are so sure,
You belong to me, and I belong to you,
In your eyes I can see, You're my destiny,
And you dont even have to ask,
The answer you already know,
Now and forever, By heart I do!


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Inspirational Rhythm



Prologue

Each and everyone of us has a special thing/someone that not only inspires him/her but also motivates and encourages him/her to be the best he/she can. Let’s call it your “Inspirational Charm” instead of “Lucky Charm”.

It could be your parents, or your children. Maybe your significant other or maybe you friends! It doesn’t really matter what it really is, as long as you know what is yours, and as long as you keep it, save it and treasure it!

Personally I was never sure if I had an Inspirational charm, until recently I realized that my inspiration and motivation comes from my friends! It has always been them!

Therefore, I dedicate this piece to all my friends whom I’ve known through the years, and especially to Hipster/Miss Dynamite/MLN, for inspiring me to write this piece, for supporting me ever since I started blogging/writing/sharing and for helping me recognize my true Inspirational Charm! She is a live- illustration of “Mama Poetry”.

N.B: Inspired by Hipster's Poetic Blues.



Inspirational Rhythm



Like the moon glowing upon,
Our azure skies,
A tender star prehistorically born,
It bloomed into our lives,
Shedding a colorful light,
Dazzling bright,
Shining,
Our darkest nights


Oh, Mama Poetry!
You positively,
Instigate,
You powerfully,
Motivate.

As your Lyrical rhythms,
Illuminate,
Our ways and goals,
And your Poetic realms,
Educate,
Our minds and souls,

-An inspiration,
Widely spread
-

Mama Poetry!
You inspire,
The world to aspire,
To seek,
To strive,
To reach,
What we all desire.

Like a pleasant symphony,
Of dreamful melodies,
And paintings of vocabularies
You paint our dreams,
Of Equality,
Freedom,
And Equity,
Into reality.



Saturday, July 25, 2009

Promises: Back to Childhood


Promises: Back to Childhood





Once upon a time, between our candy flavored childhood and our bitter- sour adulthood, a very beautiful virtue was gradually erased and replaced with an ugly bad habit that through the years became less ugly and more "normal" to us and just as we always manage to find numerous excuses to any flaw/fault we have/do, we found one, no, plenty to this. Just like Friedrish Nietzsche said on behalf of all adults: "One must have a good memory to be able to keep the promises that one makes." Yes, he found the perfect excuse for us to not keep our promises.



Two days ago, I made a little promise to my 8 year- old cousin, who just came to Sudan to spend her summer holiday with the family; that day I took her out to dinner with my friends and apparently she was so thrilled and delighted with that outing that I couldn't help but promise to take her out again the next day. I promised to take her to the park, where an 8 year- old can have more fun than she would in a restaurant.



However, I was caught up by "matters of consequence" like all adults do, issues that I am sure will not make any sense to my little cousin if I try to explain. I started to think of what am I going to say when I see her the next time. "I'm sorry I broke my promise to you!", will she understand that? She's still a child thus to her, breaking promises is something that is not even possible. In children's minds promises are sacred and unbreakable; how would they be "promises" if they were to be broken? A promise was made to fulfill, that is what they know and respect, and what we have forgotten in the process of growing up into selfish materialistic adults.
One more thing we tend to forget during growing up is the difference between the innocent yet Black & white minds of children and the complex and Grey prospective from which adults view and measure everything in life. Children see things either right or wrong, Black or White, but we can always find all sorts of excuses, explanations and theories that would turn Black into White and White into Black. We have brought the concept of "Grey" to the world, and this is why children do not understand our world and we do not understand theirs, although the truth is, we've been there once but sadly wehave forgotten all about it.



A promise I made to my young cousin, a promise that I broke easily and without any feeling of guilt made me rethink and reconsider the way I live, the way I think and the way I dream as an adult. A broken promise with the excuse of being busy with "matters of consequence" reminded me of the Business man who said the same thing to the Little Prince*, who came to the conclusion that "The grown-ups are certainly very, very odd."; the Little Prince was definitely right about that as I thought while reading the book, and now I find myself acting and thinking in the same way as the little prince described "adults", the way which I didn't want to be, and I certainly do not want to be someone who is known for breaking his/her promises.





If we all try to go back to our childhood, and think of all the morals, virtues and principles that our family, school and community helped growing its' already existent seeds inside of us, we will realize how much we have lost while growing up into not only cold and dull adults but also principle-less with no conscience adults, and I think its time we all sit with ourselves and re-asses who we are, not by reviewing only our words and promises but weighing it to our action, and in order to plan ourselves a better objective for the coming years of our adulthood, maybe its time we go back to our childhood, start thinking like children and leave this "adulthood" behind us, in a positive way I mean.





In order to do so, I highly recommend you get your copy of "The Little Prince" right now, and remember, "Losers make promises they often break. Winners make commitments they always keep." -Denis Waitley











------

* The Little Prince:
The Little Prince French: Le Petit Prince, published in 1943, is French aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's most famous novel, though ostensibly a children's book, The Little Prince makes several profound and idealistic points about life and human nature.
Read it on line:

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Before its too Late







Life is but a collection of experiences; good and bad, and what we learn from these experiences, is what really matters, as these lessons help us get through life’s various obstacles, take better decisions and choices, or at least pass these lessons through to others to use it, positively.One of the hardest experiences that each and every one of us has to go through in life is switching roles with our very own parents.



We grow up looking up to our parents; every girl dreams of growing up to be as beautiful as her mother, a great cook like her mother, a wonderful wife, tender mom and successful woman in society just like her mother. Every boy dreams of growing up to be as hardworking as his father, so active like his father, a loving husband, caring father with a flourishing social life. Our father has always been our very own Superman and our mothers were the "female" version of him.




That was our childhood, with our pink world and innocent dreams, but then time flies and our parents face the hardest and most perplexing time of their lives as they try so hard to pass through the troubling phase teenage years without losing us. Every day is a new challenge to them, trying hard to understand us, to know how to deal with us, and yet everyday they get hurt by us. Things we do or say that hurt their feelings or maybe just feeling useless and helpless is what breaks their hearts.




The truth is we never realized what our parents had to through; we didn't understand how bad we made them feel with our careless actions and selfish behaviors, or simply by saying things that broke their hearts without us knowing how bad its effect would be.




However, life goes on and we finally make it through that crazy era in our lives and start learning the basics of responsibility as we take our first steps to maturity, without looking back to what happened and what we did during those rebellious years, believing that now since our parents are thrilled and overwhelmed with our graduation, our first job and better yet, our engagement, those confused days, insubordinate actions and defiant words no longer matter.




Little we knew back then. Unexpectedly, those dark days from our past come to haunt us, when we abruptly find ourselves in their shoes, and it all comes back to us in a second and hits us so hard in the head , that it might take us days, weeks or even months before we realize what had happened, and what we ought to do.




It’s amazing how we never imagined, predicted or just thought even if only for a second, that one day our Superman/woman will grow old. Yes, really old. Too old that they no longer are "Superman/woman".




It starts with their retirement, but we're still good with that, because we convince ourselves that all our parents need is money to compensate their no- longer- existent monthly salary. We just fool ourselves trying to sink in the ugly truth that keeps floating to the surface of our minds. "Our parents are growing old."




It’s amazing how time can change swiftly from a trusted friend to a hated enemy, as it has always been an ally to the truth, which was always something we counted on in our daily lives, but time starts to be our enemy when it leaves its ugly trace on our parents. Their healths gradually start to dwindle. Diabetes, Hyper tension, Bones problems, Back problems, and the list of appalling words can go on forever. Our parents are no longer Superman/Woman.




What is worse is the fact that they realize and comprehend these sudden ugly changes and altering of roles which flusters them. They have been used to taking care of us since the day we were born, and now, they have to wait, for us, to take care of them.




This, my dear readers, is a two sided difficult predicament. The Son/Daughter is not used to this new role. We have gotten used to taking care of our own selves and our selves only that we find it hard to take care of someone else, and that someone else is no one but our beloved parent, not only that but it's also the aching truth that our parents are not strong anymore, they are weak, needy and helpless.


That fact hurts us just as much as it hurts them, and affects us in several ways just as much as it affects them. We find our selves clueless on what to do and how to react to their impulsive over- sensitive reactions to anything we say and do which is a natural expected consequence to their “aging”.




But wait, it gets worse. It’s when one of our parents reaches the age when they can't even shower on their own. What are you going to do? Will you have the heart to take your very own Superman/Woman to the "Elders home/ Retirement House"? Dear god, I hope not! But I will understand if you didn’t have the heart to carry him/her to the shower yourself either. It is hard. I know! Still, it is something that you must do. Remember what they did for you since you were an infant and this shower will seem like nothing compare to what they did and had to go through.




Am I giving you a hard time reading this? Sorry, but it is for your own good. I need you to think about all of this and be prepared before it suddenly bumps into your head and crash on your life forcibly.I must say sorry again, for what I am still going to say. I know you are all old enough to realize that death is what comes next, whether you like it or not.




But I can't decide what hurts more; the feeling of helplessness as you watch your Superman/Woman suffer in pain while you stand there not able to do anything about it and you just wish so hard if you can take away that pain, you wish if it was you who's moaning in that bed, not them; however all you can say is "Hamdulilah" and pray, till that moment of truth comes again and slaps you in the face with the hardest truth ever.




Your Superman/woman is gone, for good. And as you see his/her peaceful smile and say goodbye for the very last time, you just wish if you can have one last chance, one more minute to say "Thank you and I'm sorry."



Dear reader, say it now, before it's too late!

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Marwa Elsharbini

I assume that you have all heard or read about the sad and tragic deadly incident that ironically took place in what supposedly is a justice hall, a so called- court of law. The victim was an Egyptian young lady named Marwa ElSharbini, who was there seeking justice but instead she was sentenced to death by the convicted villain who decided at that moment to be the judge and the executioner. Justice was for sure absent that day.
Apparently the reason behind the crime was that the murderer is simply very sensitive towards the Islamic "HIGAB", the Muslim" LIBASS", which in his blind eyes is the illustration of terrorism and the "LIBASS" of terrorists, mind you as the west is still lecturing us about Equity, equality, freedom of speech and freedom of faith, such incidents prove that they should lecture themselves!



I think of her and I wonder. I wonder about her last words and her last thoughts. As I see her picture I can’t help but ponder many questions in desperate need for answers. I brood over her story penetrating on what could have been the last image her eyes captured before they were finally closed, once and for all. Was it the angelic face of her three years- old child standing there helpless, restless and utterly befuddled; oblivious to what will change his yet- to- blossom life?


Ya rabbi! Did she worry about her little child who's viewing the bloody scene of her and the attacker? Did she worry about her beloved surviving that lethally- noxious encounter? Did she worry if their son would lose not only his mother but also his father?


Maybe she thought hastily of what would have been of Mustafa's brother or sister if he or she had come to the world?


Oh, I’m horrified to ask, how long would it take someone to die, after 18 stabs? A minute, or a second, lord I hope not more than that.


Did she suffer? Did she feel the pain? Was the emotional grief stronger than that of physical? The anguish for departing her "Dunya" so suddenly, although for "alakhra" I am positive she was ready, but her son is still too young to live, to grow and to go on without her.


Maybe she called, she prayed to god "Lord! Bring me justice!", and she was granted the fairness and justice eternally.


Did she say in unspoken words to you, dear god, that she's tired of all the injustice filling her world? Did she pray that you would prove to the world that it is he, not she, who is the terrorist and that it is “them” not “us”, who are radically unjust?


------


- Intorduction was drafted by my colleague.

- For more information on the story check the link.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Love's Relativity

Love's Relativity


Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.


-Albert Einstein




Days pass by in different rhythms and beats. Some play in a very fast tempo we don’t even get the chance to inhale, breathe and save in memories of those beautiful moments we just had; because they passed, in a blink of an eye.
Which is the reason why we don’t remember that these moments even existed during intricate times; times when the rhythm is too indolent and ambiance is dreary, bitter and silent. Too silent that our own heavy breathing explode in our heads; explode in arguments, explode in fights and explode with all those harsh, heart breaking words. Explosive times that violently try to sink all of our hardly collected, rainbow colored, chocolate flavored memories of unique moments. These pink memories which don’t just try but rather fight to reach the top of our minds; in order to reach that hot spot with the fastest and easiest access at all times, in order to replace those arguments, those fights and those harsh, heart breaking words. In order to breathe again.
But to no avail, because the struggling memories fail, and sink back, to the lowest bottom, having lost the fight, giving the final sigh.

Monday, July 06, 2009

فوضى الحواس

1.
- من أجمل ما قرأت رواية فوضى الحواس للكاتبة الرائعة (و ملهمتي) أحلام مستغانمي، أتدري، منذ تلك الليلة، و أنا أغرق في فوضى الحواس -
فوضى الحواس، هو أنت
و وجودك في ثنايا قلبي
و تسللك إلى غابات عقلي
لتملأ كلماتك خلايا افكاري
و تسكن لمساتك مساحات خواطري
معلنا الثورة،
و الحرب
على ما كان قبلك
و تمسح بأطراف أصابعك
ذكريات انتهت من بعدك
و تعيد رسم الصور
و ترتيب الكلمات
في ذاكرتي،لتمجدك...
2..
- الحياة ليست سوى رقعة شطرنج.. الكل يلعب لعبة الحرب (الحب) بخطوات مدروسة لينتصر.. -
كش ملك
أعلنت انتصارك في تلك اللحظة
لحظة، لا بداية لها و لا نهاية
لحظة، بامتداد مسامات جلدي
لحظة غيرت كل مفاهيمي
هزمت كل مبادئي و تعاليمي
أخذتني إلى بداية زماني
ليبدأ عمري، بشهقة ولادتي
بين أحضان شفتيك
و لأتعلم الكلام،بلغة عينيك
و اتعلم القراءة،ألحانا في أذنيك
و أتعلم الكتابة،رسما في يديك
و أتعلم السباحة،في بحار أحضانك،
و ذلك المحيط بين رئتيك
و يكتمل نضوجي
بعد عمر من القبل
و بعد فوضى،
عمت كل الحواس..

لست مذنبة

لست مذنبة فما من خطأ اقترفته

إلا ان كان الظمأ ذنبا ما أدركته

عطشى باحثة عن ماء

وسط رمال صحراء

جافة من كل شيء قحطاء

إلا من نخيل على واحتك رأيته

عاليا بأحرف اسمي مناديا سمعته

تمر الحب ناضج من عليه قطفته

لأصحو من حلم، حقيقة واقعة ظننته

فواحتك ما كانت إلا سراب صدقته

بسذاجة و دون وعي لأيام عشته

فما أنت سوى وهم بيدي صنعته

و ياليتك تغادرني بدرس منك تعلمته

لا يأخذ انسان اكثر من رزقه و ما يستحقه

دندنة سودانية

انا مشتاقة ليك..

و عندي كلام دايرة اقوله ليك...

كلام كتير بطول الليل


.. كلام حلو زي لون الشمس وقت الغروب..

دايرة احكي و ابوح عن الهوا السكن في القلوب

.. عن حبك البطعم المطر بعد الهبوب

.. عن ريدتك البقت سكتي و كل الدروب