Bach .. Thy Middle Name is Magic ~

Air - Johann Sebastian Bach ~

The first rays of sunshine tickled her eyes,

 Bach’s Air was furtively heared, beautiful notes from under her pillow

Never was she delighted in being  so still, with her head tilted towards the Earth as if rejoicing in a subtle Heavenly music ..

As if Bach’s Air is enticing her to feel her way past the senses to capture the loud unplayed notes ,

For strings unleash their melodious cries and leave an everlasting echo of a second’s pause .. to catch a breath, to halt a motion, to release a sigh, to undo a frown ..

The pleasant soundless void is music to the soul ..

The faint dying remnants of a note .. Empathy in a silence never silenced .

It dwells in the heart of every note and reigns in a moment, unbridled

Ever so aching to tell a story .. Ever so craving to touch a heart ..

For a Genuine Understanding of Eid Al-Idh’ha in Islam ~

At midnight, here in Tunisia, it suddenly struck me how alienated people are from the truth, the real , normally crystal-clear meanings of things ..

Tomorrow is Eid AL Adh’ha in the Muslim Ummah.  It is a yearly celebration in which people sacrifice to get closer to Allah sub’anahu wa taala.

 Yes, they are meant to sacrifice ! Not only the perishable meat of the lamb .. They should sacrifice their inner evils, their hidden mischievous intentions, their unnecessary arrogances, their selfish desires, their greed, their indifference, their heartlessness ..

In these blessed ten days of Thu-AlHajja, the Month of Al Hajj, I see people bying startingly expensive sheeps, leaving themselves in debt for the rest of the year, if not the year after.

I see people walking their sheeps boastingly across the neighborhood just to show to the public eye their ability to buy a sheep in these miserable days. They spend their afternoons bragging about how fat their sheeps are, entirely indifferent to the fact that poor people are deprived to indulge in this holy celebration.

I see women chattering in street corners, in markets, in hair-dressing saloons about poor women with empty bags in the souks, bying insignificant amounts of meat to feed the children on the Idh’ha day. They relish in their misery, they mock their sheep-less houses and their meat-less stomacks instead of extending a helping hand. This is what this holy ceremony is about.

Yes, it is holy. People are supposed to show humility, kindness and piety in these blessed days. They should linger on prayer carpets extending their hands in Du’aa to Allah. They should read and meditate on the Quran and design a life in harmony to its teachings.

I pray to Allah to humble their souls and endow their hearts with generosity and kindness.

Eid Idh’ha Mubarak to our dear Muslim Ummah. J

What Makes Your Heart Sing ? ~

Passenger - Scare Away The Dark ~

"We should run through the forest
We should swim in the streams
We should laugh, we should cry,
We should love, we should dream
We should stare at the stars and not just the screens
You should hear what I'm saying and know what it means .."

 Buildings  with guards .. houses with doors ..

Doors with doorknobs, doorknobs with keys ..

Rooms with windows .. windows with shutters ..

 Selves inside shells .. Souls inside stones

 Modernity or pleasant conformity ..

No, existential mediocrity

Life-long voluntary confinement in grayish sameness

Wallowing in tastelessness

I want abandoned valleys  

Worn out wooden houses

Random herbs growing on its doors

Not grayish, not gray, ever so green ..

I want roofless cottages

Beds made of Earth, scented mud ,

Flowers unknown, releasing their fragrance into the breeze ..

Let it brush your skin, penetrate your soul, look at the stars ..

No roof, no walls, no ceiling  ..

Then, let your lids embrace,  it is so precious a feeling

Who said the sky is the limit ? The sky is the destination

 The sky is our real Home ..

Like Gaza There Is No Place ~

Strength is when you look at Pain right in the face

When you search among wreckage for the seeds of Rebirth

When childish laughters defeat the sounds of Death

When you colour fresh wounds with drops of Mirth

Like Gaza there is no place

Smiles, yet tired, revive its Earth

Souls bent with worship yet filled with Grace

Hearts tinged with power since their birth

Their fierce eyes speak Resistance

Infused in their blood

Carved in their skin

Besmeared on their face

They walk through rain and mud

They go through thick and thin

Fed by Life and Hope

They march to their noble end

For Freedom is there to be wrenched

And Dreams are there to be embraced  

Truly, like Gaza there is no place ..

For Gaza : To Resist is To Win ~

To resist is to win

You are wounded to the bone

Tired is your body, scarred is your skin

But to resist is to win

The wrath inside you should not burn out

The warrior within you must not give in

For to resist is to win

Your will is power

Be angry, rise and shout

Don’t lower your chin

By God, to resist is to win

You stand lonely yet proud

You are victorious, you are to win

Fight hard, speak loud

For the dreamer that once been

For the child within

But never give in

For giving up is a sin

And to resist is to win ..

A Book Is a Life’s Journey ~

She released a deep sigh ..

As a shy light peeked into her room  

She reluctantly closed her bulky book  

She was near the end

The last few pages scared her ..

Short yet eventful are most endings

She knew this

She wanted to carry on

But she didn’t ..

As she laid down on her bed,

She caught a glimpse of the sky

It wasn’t really sad

It was .. uncertain ..

Yes, she thought of the sky as a person !

It was gray with small bluish spots

She marveled at its unsettled color ..

Just like her soul upon those sorrowful pages

Just like her hand that craves yet refuses to turn the page

Fearing the inevitable future of her fictitious dear ones

It suddenly hit her ..

Reading a good book is like going through Life !

The coming episodes terrify you yet lure you

You lay still, you look forward then you waver ..

Moments demand to be lived, fate demands to be noticed  

Demands to be realized ..

As if it is the ultimate Right of the universe

It is then your duty to move on .. to turn the page

A necessary evil if you wish

All your waverings, uncertainties, mishaps and triumphs will lead to an end

Predetermined .. Yet still undefined ..

Regardless, march courageously !

Imagine in Gaza .. ~

Today, on the 10th of Ramadan 2014, I went out with my father to the nearby grocery-store to buy some necessities for the Iftar. It was one hour before the Adhan, but we had to go out for my mother’s occasional late requests.

I remember when I was a kid, my father used to take me for a walk in late Ramadan afternoons. I admire the passers-by; Everyone is in a hurry to get home, bearing large bags loaded with food. Sometimes, I notice a kid running with bread still hot from the oven or a mother crying at her son to stop playing outside and get ready to go to the Masjid with his father.

It was the eye of a child. It beholds everything beautiful. It sees colors and rainbows everywhere. I was always looking ahead of the road, smiling at our neighbors. I never tried to peep into a corner, behind a wrecked wall or inside a deserted building.

Today, I understood that rainbows and colors are confined to the celestial realm. Just an hour before Iftar, there are people, dressed in rags, with dirty and empty bowels in front of them. You see a mother with a milk-craving babe, you see a barefoot old man who sighs as much as he breathes, his eyes fixed on the floor, too ashamed to shout out his hunger. You see two little boys checking a hard as rock slice of bread.

I went home, I ate, I laughed and watched the silly Ramadan series with my family, but my heart and mind remained with those miserable souls in the street. I felt an unfathomable ache vibrating through me. Only at this time, my mind wandered far away to the bleeding East ..

Imagine in Gaza .. People are starving. And while they starve, they keep an alert eye for Israeli missiles. While they starve, they run to take the injured to the hospitals. While they starve, they dig for their families under the crumbled buildings. While they starve, they comfort their little scared brothers and console their mothers. While they starve, they take shelter to rest between the ruins. While they starve, they hear the never-ending deafening sounds of bombs. While they starve, they bury their dear ones and face the unjust colonizer on a daily basis. While they starve, they do not sleep ..

Just imagine in Gaza .. Pray for our brothers for all we have is Du’aa .. for Du’aa is the only valid contribution when rulers wallow in food and sleep ..

May Allah protect them and grant them victory .. Ameen ..