Cairo Today

What happened to the Egyptians?

The feast is like a fever that infects the young men in the streets with hyper active energy and a desire to roam the streets aimlessly. A staycation in cairo during the festive time can be relaxing, however a walk in the streets of Zamalek can be described as getting lost in a stampede!

As I walked in the street forgetting what a mistake that was, I felt like Simba the cub in Disney's Lion King when he was tripped over by the rushing stampede. I saved my self before getting stepped on or who knows what worse, by locking the doors of my car and rushing home like a thief trying to escape the police. So many analogies that can be described, not trying to romanticize my image or anything but for any girl not just me, it is exactly like a giselle when faced with hundreds of hunters or hungry animals, the fear, the adrenaline rush and the sound of ones pounding heart is the same.

They are thousands of young men with almost the same face. They have almost the same worn out or bleached jeans, with the same cheap cotton shirts, with their weak bodies, and under developed sizes, due to the malnutrition. In their twenties looking like fourteen year olds, with cigarettes between their lips, with baby hair over their lips, with their disgusting ways, they harass, in every way, with their eyes, with their lips, with their steps, with their everything they terrorize. I went down to get art supplies forgetting that the perverts spend their feast in my part of town during this time of year. Through out the year it is not safe, however during the feast, it could be fatal! They go nuts on the holiday, and they are from the male sex only. I wondered what happened to the female population? My mother explained to me that they are doing the dishes back home.

With our population we could be as productive as the Chinese, as dedicated as the Indians, we could be exporting people with skills, however the case is not so. the only thing we have perfected is creative ringtones for our cell phones, and the art of smoking up. No matter how low ones income is he or she will have a cell phone and will afford a pack of cigarettes. The masses of the once so great Egypt have perfected one thing creating more of them, the ability to make more hungry, starving aimless, ignorant, and sad individuals.

Divorce rates are 60 percent, garbage accumulated in the streets and nobody picks it up, we keep doubling in size, women work and men stay home, traditions and complexities continue to pressure the youth into marriages that end in divorce and men still think they are superior kings and women remain captive however the added burden of financially supporting their families has only added to their misery. Out of despair from this earthly life they keep covering more of themselves voluntarily, out of a need to assure their place in heaven, although their jeans remains tight and their attitudes do not show more modesty, and their striking colors of clothes scream look at me and do not dismiss me, the need to cover the hair stems from the continuos religious preaching on the satellite channels from religious media pros who manipulate people into becoming more submissive. Any one who speaks of change in the media, will not be free to go back home.

Taboos are still those that were a century ago: religion, sex and politics. Although people can speak their minds at home with friends without worrying about their cousin being a spy. Movies, soap operas, flu fears, religious manipulations, hunger are all keeping the people from any movements. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer and make more children and everyone is silently smoking up or getting tipsy.

Cleopatra as a Carioka

So when I asked my self where else do I feel home?

Another place, other than Cairo of course;

The answer was Milan and the vibrant dancing queen: Brazil.

I spent only seven days in Brazil but it was like a year of learning and sucking in the culture with all the details and warmth that it carries. If I can live in another chaotic, thrilling, alive city it would be Brazil!

The moment I arrived I felt my feet happy to walk on the ground of Rio. Even when still in the airport the peoples tanned skin and dark eyes made me feel home. The friendly smiles and the warm sound of the Portuguese language spoken from their lips sounding like music, was comforting immediately spreading a fun vibe, a happy vibe, a Brazilian vibe. Just walking down the street of Rio you feel sexier, happier and full of life.

When I visited Brazil it was at Carnival time, a magical festive time, a time when the whole nation dances and the introverts do not belong. In Brazil everyone has happy dancing feet and nobody stands still when the powerful sound of the Samba drums shakes your heart with joy.

Our beautiful hosts greeted us with what seemed like a dream come true, a sentence I never thought I would ever hear, they said welcome to the biggest party of the world. I was mesmerized by the sound of these words. I never thought partying could be a national thing.

In Brazil anyone can belong, Europeans, Africans, Asians and Americans and anyone can feel home. Although the typical Ipanema girl look is tanned with sun-kissed hair and an athletic body, the truth is any look can be a brazilian one since Brazilians are a mix of global marriages and all kinds of nationalities who migrated to Brazil brought their genes with them to the Brazilian nation.

The people from Rio have it all, the gorgeous beach, the beautiful mountains and the gift of music of-course. The whole country sings the same song, dances to the same beat and the samba moves everyone from their heart. The Carioka is a local from Rio, they usually wake up late since they were partying all night long, although the Cairene or the local from Cairo does not sleep early too or wake up early as a generalization of course, they do not stay up partying like the Carioka. The Carioka can samba, can sing, loves meat, loves food and enjoys life. The female body in Brazil is celebrated and is a source of pride. I found a lot of similarities between the Egyptians and the Brazilians. They both live for soccer, love music with powerful drums but sadly the Egyptians have lost their joy and love for life. Dancing has become a sluty hobby, and judgement has scared the woman who belly dances nowadays. The female body is neurotic not a source of pride or celebration. It should be covered, it has become a source of shame for low income families. Egypt used to be as happy as Brazil until the fundamentalists spread their vibe and made everyone travel to dance and hide to be joyful.

Egypt and Brazil both have a huge gap between the rich and the poor, however on the beach everyone is Equal in Rio. In Egypt on the other hand the rich are protected behind huge bars and beaches are segregated by class, and even religious outfits have separated us on the beach. In Rio everyone can enjoy the beach in a bikini in flip flops everyone is equal. In Brazil I felt like there is no anorexic complexities , everyone embraces their curves and size does not matter the way it does everywhere else. Finally I enjoyed seeing beautiful curvy proud girls dancing in the streets protesting the media's obsession with the models in the magazines as they do the steps of samba in their high heels and feathers.

The brazilians suffer from extreme poverty like the Egyptians but there is no segregation everyone is equal in the eyes of the carnival. Rcism does not exist so many dynamics of complexities disappear behind the loud drums of the samba music as it shakes your body with joy and life. It is impossible to be unhappy in Rio during Carnival time. Street dances stop traffic and the competing Samba schools train all year for the days that the national show of the most beautiful colorful parade happens. Three days of competition and the masses parade in elaborate costumes and people from all races and all ages dance and sing the song they learned together and to my surprise I was in the parade too, wearing a costume, doing the samba with my racing heart in the middle of the moving wave of people, singing in Portuguese with them words I never heard before I moved my lips and I could sing along. It was like a miracle and the locals called me a Carioka how I could sing a language I could not speak and words I did not hear or understand but I understood some how, what they meant, they meant we love life, we love music, we love freedom, we love dancing we are all one. Everyone was equal in the costumes, the seventy year old ladies, the children, the old men, the white, the black, the rich and the poor all danced to the same beat.

I realized that the power of dance and music unifies the country and they hold on to their traditional dance and they are proud of it, I was sad remembering the extinct belly dance and the fear to dance that has infected my country and all the complexities that complicate us rather than unites us. We have an amazing treasure of Egyptian music and even different dances from every part of Egypt but the people have forgotten it and feared it a long with judged movement to music as a thing they were too rigid to do.

Finally I was at a place that I am not a freak to feel like dancing, i felt like home, the happiest, warmest, most joyful place on earth is the carnival in Rio. Beauty, love, dance are all celebrated. Food is eaten, steps are taken, people unite, people dance together rather than harass each other, and anyone of any size feels desirable, and music fills the air.

To your disappointment the likes of Gazelle Bunchen and Adriana Lima do not roam the streets but out of every 50 girls is a brazilian goddess of beauty and out of every 50 guys is a brazilian symbol of masculine perfection. But everyone oozes an attractive energy and is proudly enjoying being in their own skin.

They are a people not scared to celebrate their beauty and not shy to dance their dance and sing their song when everybody else sings a borrowed song, they sing their songs and celebrate their existence.

Since my trip to Brazil I have dreamed about dancing schools in the slums of Cairo that can free the struggling souls who retreat to fundamentalism. If we gave the deprived children of egypt the gift of dance and music who knows what kind of dangers and anger they could be saved from. Like the Brazilians all we need is music and unity! I dream of a day when walls are broken and freedoms aren't stolen and women are not ashamed of their bodies and the people of Egypt can dance and sing together freely without fearing harassment or judgement, like they did once before, how come before they knew much more? May the people of Egypt lose their blinds, their fears, their anger and all the rigidness that stole the power of music, beauty, art and love from our world. The Egyptians created the Belly dance and the brazilians come to dance it here since they have no fear. I realized that in a past life I was definitely a Carioka.

There were days that Cleopatra was as happy and free as a Carioka.

Freedom from Face-book and more

Now that I am not on facebook anymore, I have time for useful things!

I get more stuff done, the creative process is at work. I even have time to contemplate on my life, I have time to plan more things, I call more of my friends, I get in touch with the real people in my life. I feel like my vision is clearer with less clutter in the background. Suddenly I know who my real friends are and who are just names on a screen. I feel like I have reached a deeper lost part of me. I feel free, I feel light. I feel that I am who I used to be. My energy is not wasted on 100 percent useless spying anymore, I do not waist time coming up with status updates and I even came up with so many ideas for an important project . I had real conversations on the phone with some of my family that I relied on sending face book messages to communicate with. I use my phone more, I check my mail more. I write more useful emails, I have time for my real life. I even focused more on my house and had time to remove some clutter from there. I am forced not to be a procrastinator because I have less stupid things to do so basically I get things done! I got out of my house more, since with face book I always feel like I am always with everybody, so I do not miss anyone anymore. Now relationships can be real, privacy can be regained and limits are back to my life. I am happier although I confess my fingers keep typing the words face book on the keyboard by mistake, actually because it has become an automatic reflex, and I confess I felt the urge to spy and see what is going on again, but no I am stronger than that, I kept my self back. I can not go back that soon, I am not even happy there, my life was slipping through my fingers there. I do not want to be just another face in a book, on a screen somewhere, I do not want to follow the herd, I felt like I was being forced and hypnotized, doing what the face book creators wanted me to do. So many times we just follow the ad people's orders like they were the boss of us. They call it pop culture or the power of the media. I am sick of this 24/7 continuos orders that I keep getting. "take a break!, have a kitkat!" Just do it! nike!. The last egyptian Coca cola ad was literally "Get up get a coke", thats just plain rude not even a please?, and there are the ads that tell you indulge!, and mobinil's fun new ads are all about Talk!TALK TALK! it is a telephone network that in every occasion orders us to talk!!

Why do they keep telling us what to do? And why do we listen? And from where do they get all this authority in their voices on t.v. With a very low confident voice the same voice tells us what to do from an ad to a different one selling different products and we are all the suckers who obey. Who says you want to just do it?, what if you want to think more about it? take your time or better yet sleep on it? Why aren't there advertisements encouraging you to do what you want? If I came up with an ad it would be an ad to fight ads not to take their orders, to protect vulnerable kids from obeying and to tell people are you doing it for you? or because the ad said you should? Do we need more orders and controlling people to direct our needs, tell us what we want to buy and what we should be doing? During this ramadan I have taken more orders from advertisements than have I taken from my parents as I was growing up and I have never listened to so many lies like I did this month. 

My point was I am very happy that I quit face book, in fact I am relieved! Before I do something from now on I will ask my self, do I want to do it? or does the media want me to do it? or do my parents want me to do it? or do my friends want me to do it? the answer should always be: I want to do it! Unless I am pleasing my sick grandmother by wearing the earrings that she got me of-course,I do not want to be a pop culture victim any more I want to be the real human being that I am, not the face book member, not the coca cola drinker and not the nike just doer.

I am free!! Join me?

I left!

Yesterday I  did something I have been wanting to do for a while now. Finally I did it and it freed me. Freed me from the spy that I was becoming, always finding my self seeing things I have no business in seeing. I freed myself from all the time I have been wasting doing something that is not productive in any way. I freed my self from all the information that I did not want to know. I liberated my self from so many group invitations and so many friend requests from people who are not my friends. I feel like the moment I pressed the deactivate my account button two wings were created on my back and as I roamed my apartment doing simple errands, I felt lighter. As I went to bed I felt safer like a part of me came back to my body and I am not as open to the public as I was. Face-book can be a great way to keep in touch with old friends and it can also be a horrible way to lose so much time and to bring people you were grateful  for not having to deal with anymore back to the front-lines of your communication circle. Some one once said there is a good reason why certain people are out of my life. You suddenly become too reachable, too exposed and anyone can tell you anything anytime, there is a certain thrill to that in the beginning and then you feel captive or choked like a social prisoner of some sort.

The brain can also suffer from an addiction, I found my fingers typing face book. com automatically and many times I find my self hypnotized checking face book for no good reason and doing stupid things there for a long time. 

I find my self checking pictures of people I have no desire of seeing their pictures, and then I feel sick for doing that like a creepy spy. I find people who I do not want to be seeing my pictures always commenting on my pictures and we are not even close with the daily comment I feel like I am on the lap of the person that is not even my friend and never was. I have no problem with publicity I love to be interviewed in an article, written about somewhere and here I am blogging about my life to the world but I realized I do have a problem with face book. Some thing is weird about it and it is embarrassing to ignore a friend request, it is awkward to meet these people who used to be bullies, behind the screen they become angels with sweet comments.

The status update can also be too much. The last thing I saw was a friend telling her husband something that only he should hear, it is not like she is Kim Kardashian or Megan Fox that people would enjoy the extra information. Why do I have to know everything about their personal life?

Some one else's status was Jane just wake up from the longest nap, who cares I wanted to ask.

I updated my status too but deep inside I felt how lame that can be in the eyes of others.

Also did you notice how everyone looks good in their profile picture? Now in real life they do not but on face book somehow everyone is a star. I have no problem with that but I have a problem with the obnoxious posers who in reality are anything but model material. 

So much kissing ass and so many fakers, so many liars, so many spies. 

There is also the terrorizing join my group requests and then the showering of group messages that you are daily exposed too. 

The last thing that led me to this bold move as I feel it, is an unfortunate event on face book. A young woman who used to do yoga with me passed away and I found out from her relatives' status. Her relative meant well but I felt it was too much how she announced it with a sad face in the end. It was something that gave me chills and changed my biology as a whole, when someone we love dies we can not just put a sad face from the keyboard, it is too much. And the way people wrote stuff on the woman who passed away's wall was just too scary for me. 

They even created groups for her, they all mean well but when it comes to death face book can be too much.

Something great is being simplified and commercialized and publicized and handled by many in away that I found was not respectful enough. I could not take face book anymore and the boring person who spies behind the screen that I have become, how everyone can comment about me and how so many groups burdened me with their messages. Something was creepy, something was fake, apart of me was suffering online. I realized my need to reach people can be satisfied by my blog and my phone, and I do feel a great relief. Maybe when I am ready and able to control my privacy more and the number of times I check my face book, maybe then I can go back but now I am just very happy for this freedom that I have got back. I feel like I lost my chains and all of me is back in me not scattered on a wall waiting for comments and messages all the time. When face book becomes a source of stress it is not fun anymore.

I do not want my life to be pictures on a wall and I do not want people I know to have so much to say about that all the time 24 hours of the day. Adam sandler's character in his last movie " funny people" said the more friends you have on facebook the less friends you have in real life.

He then cursed facebook it was funny in the movie. I always envied the young people I know who are not on facebook now I am one of them atleast for now. 

I hope that I did not offend anyone in anyway my good friends know how much its a pleasure to be in touch, we do not need facebook we have our phones.

the itch to babbel

This is about the itch to write, although not sure what exactly about.

The restlessness until published, the unease that comes until you are freed by saying whatever is trapped in your throat. Writing it down is actually therapeutic, it is like aromatherapy for the soul like a massage for the tired body. like putting down a huge bag of stone after carrying it up on the long staircase. Your shrinking chest expands. Then you can breathe again and face the mad world again, the world that can be unbearable if you are not supported, if you are hollow, if inside you do not find a place comfortable enough. If you can not find refuge somewhere, where will you go? Please do not act like everything is ok and easy and that you got the world on a string, we all know how vulnerable we are, how breakable we can be and how our hearts can be shattered and how our worlds can anytime collapse. The question is how do we manage and focus on the now knowing that anytime anything can happen? It must be faith, on some level we all have it or else how could we go on and live our days and sleep and trust the pillow? How could we trust tomorrow and what might it bring? If our existence in itself is questionable and not permanent, why do we worry so much about the stupid things?

how do all these people live and be so confident, how could people stomp their feet on the ground that stands beyond their time and before it. This world of visual and touchable is too small to be it. There must be more, we all know that. 

How wonderful is the world when things are happy and fine, when you finally feel home at your own house. When little things fail to conquer you and you finally take control. Being in charge not the victim, not the prey, not the follower. Taking care of someone, taking charge of something, feeling needed somewhere somehow is enough motivation for a whole life. That is all we need. To know that we are needed and our presence is not replaceable, and that our character is not forgettable, the thing we want to be sure about is that we can not be comparable to any of those who took our place. And that we are loved unconditional and I come to realize that our dearest need is to be watched. When I was growing up I thought a camera was filming my every step. We love our parents because they watched us along our journey they saw us through our stages. They saw our first steps, our graduation and when we cried they saw our tears and kissed our heads. In love an essential part is that someone sees your life as it happens. Someone witnesses it and to them you are the star and the rest of the world are extras. We all want to be the focal point, nobody wants to be an extra at-least to their dearest ones.

 I want to be the sun and I love God because he watches over me and I know for sure that every thing I do is witnessed, the essence of all relationships is looking at someone and the more undivided your attention is the deeper the love. The more exclusive the gaze is the more passionate the love is, nobody wants a lover who adores and looks at everyone else too, love is jealous and demanding or else it would be just good will.

When things are fine and we have peace of mind why don't we recognize how amazing that is?Why is it only when something drives us crazy do we remember our peaceful days and mourn them? Why can't we realize how lucky we are when everything is fine? are we thankful enough?

Do we need to be reminded of tougher times? We take it for granted when sleep comes and when we can have fun, we live like hypnotized souls going through errands and routines until something shocks us and we try to remember our normal life and we feel bad for not knowing how precious it was.

Can we remind ourselves of how lucky we are to have peace of mind right now, can we enjoy our blessings as much as we suffer from our misfortunes?

Are we wired for happiness or sadness or just blankness? 

 

Everything I need to know I learned in Kinder Garden

This is the name of the book that I found in the pocket of the seat in front of me as I was flying somewhere on a plane. Unfortunately I lost it too like the person who lost it before me. If you had not read it, it is a beautiful book that  delivers a powerful message in an innocent simplicity. Now that I think of it, I realize that the book has a life of its own, maybe I lost it so someone else can find it, to be lost on a plane means this book might be traveling the world by now from hand to hand. From forgetful good people to others it might be changing the world. 

I will never forget what the book said, although I lost it, the message will stay with me and here I am trying to keep the flow of it. Like paying it forward, from person to another the simple message will spread. The author had an interesting approach to life saying that if only we did not forget the things we learned in Kindergarden life would have been so much better.

For instance, learning to share, if everybody shared there would be no poverty. Not taking something that does not belong to you, that concept if applied would really end wars. Tell that to the greedy governments who decide to steal their neighbors land. Saying please and thank you, who ever says that all the time spares the world of all the source of trouble.

In kindergarden they teach us to hold hands and stick together as we face the big world, if we all did that wouldn't there be more love in the world. Imagine the sight of grown ups holding hands as a group and supporting each other.

The author brings up an interesting idea, in kindergarden every one takes a nap together and lights are dimmed as peace fills the place. What if the whole world would nap at the same time, wouldn't it bring more peace to the world? I remember clearly how the author described napping time as an amazing thing for grown ups to keep doing.

The above is all I remember from the book but I go on to add to it some of my perspective, after all it's my blog not just a book review:

 In Kinder garden art is an essential part and children are free to be creative and that keeps them pure. If you watch children they are all creative artists painting and using color with the freedom that only the masters have at the end of their journey. Picasso said every child is an artist the problem is how to stay one when they grow up. Society takes away a child's freedom molds them into some kind of robot and takes away their imagination. But we are born free artists, free little people. Some keep that, some loose it. 

One of the pleasures and greatest joys of my life is watching my niece and nephew who are both younger than four, as they live their life, away from their nanny, who makes it difficult to reach them. I realized my nephew walks like he is drunk, moves like he is drunk and he is hilarious, all children are funny, but we socialize them to lose their sense of humor. My nephew inspires me, so does my niece but she has been socialized already. Although she is irresistibly cute she already acts like a big girl and that saddens me. But he, he is free the way he was made to be. I picture him if he was a grown up who acts the way he does now, people will call him crazy, but many others like me would love to be his friend. He acts like a drunk rock star, like a free artist and he does not want to conform to any rules. He experiments with his mom's heels, he is still too innocent to realize society will question his curiosity towards the female clothes. he plays with the praying scarf and raps it around him self like a monk. He stands towards the Qibla and brings his forhead to the ground, with an instinct towards worship. He knows more about God than many grown ups do. His hair is long and golden and he is not afraid of judgement since in cairo parents are phobic to boys with long hair, he is innocent to all that. 

He does not care what we think and he dances to the music in his soul, he is created cool and every move he makes is naturally cool. His face has no chub like babies do his body is of a tiny athelete, he is a small free little person may his parents keep him that way and may they fail to socialize him to conform and may he never be another brick in the wall. Because he is different and hopefully they will not take the artist away.

She however is a star loves attention and attention loves her back. Uses the right words at the right time and can make you melt when she makes you feel special for a second. Watching them I always have tears in my eyes , because I love them so much and they are so tiny. They have confidence that is divine and inner strength more than mine. They have innocence like all the children.

My other niece lives abroad and that hurts more than anything else, every time she has to leave I cry a sea of tears. She is so cute that it is indescribable, she has the japanese baby vibe and she likes to touch the ones she loves. When she talks it is slow and she stares at you making you forget the world around you, with her big eyes she captures you and sinks you in with magnitude and she is so tiny yet she is so powerful. When you are caught up in a conversation with her she takes you from the hypnotized state to a sudden smile and giggles that seal the spell and make you for ever an obsessed lover. She is so innocent yet sometimes she is cruel. Like her mom she loves to play with people's feelings, a natural heart breaker. From the softest cutest voice comes an aggressive scream that makes you laugh. She is hot tempered so do not get on her nerves. Her brother is still too tiny to describe but he lives in a state of sleep and between his long naps he eats, but he does ooze a certain wisdom that I never saw before. What I find magnificent is their power, I think it is purely divine that these little people have confidence and inner strength and they stand up for them selves and scream and cry at anything they do not like. They do not take anyones shit, they have their own group and everyone has a role and watching them play and talk is my favorite drug. I could forget about my worries this dry reality and all the mundane as I get lost in their details and the sizes of their feet. 

The way their day is set is so pure and fun, the things they watch are all so comforting, happy endings and colorful clothes. Lunch and nap and a walk in the park, I find happiness in doing the things they do. Being a nanny is the most pleasurable job if you think of it, you are payed to take care of an angel and you are protected from the grown up world. Mothers are expected to do other things too so their brains do not melt but I would rather have a melted brain than leave an angel behind with a stranger who enjoys all the things that I should be enjoying. I realize it is not easy taking care of your own child without help but suffering from the green eyed monster like I always do, I would be too jealous to have someone else enjoy all that I adore and get payed too.

First I thought why do we bring children into this sad world? and then I realized it would be a sadder world without them they light it up and make it spark. Until you have your own, keep your child inside you alive, the free artist, the peace maker, the spiritual, the sexually curious, the one with the imagination that can create worlds and end wars. 

Their honesty is admirable and how they say exactly how they feel in front of who ever and want what they do at the times they feel it. They are true to them selves and they do not care if  a word is not supposed to be said. They are a breath of fresh air and we make them seem crazy for acting the way they do when actually we are crazy not to act like them or to cover the crazy being inside us, so people would not judge us. 

If only we did not kill the child inside us and turn into boring grown ups, If only we still remembered what we learned in kindergarden, we would have been happier people.

Only dull grown ups need so much to be happy; some need alcohol, some need a cigarette, some need coffee, some need tea, some need cocaine, some need weed, some need pipes, some need cigars, all things we managed fine without as kids. Actually we were happier jumping on the bed or running around in a garden, than we are now with our pretentious posture and our hands filled with poison. We did that to ourselves put on so many masks and made life so difficult that we need toxins to go back to our natural state. While bliss is naturally a state all children reach every day as they play as they lay in the arms of the one they love. We want to be grown ups and grown ups can not be happy easily, because they have to complicate things. Maybe if we keep things simple along the way we would not need so much to be happy. A gaze at a child would be enough, a breeze on a hot day can be satisfying. If only we stopped pretending we were grown ups that have to walk and talk in a certain way and smoke and drink so people do not think it is easy for us to enjoy our existence in a natural way. As if it is wrong to be simply free with an empty hand and a smile, like it is never enough, if we let our self be free we would be naturally drunk and high like the child.

Stop thinking so much, play a little, paint a little, dance a little, wear what you want, say what you feel, let the crazy fun sleeping person inside you shine and do not be so scared to talk about what you think, about what bothers you, about your sexuality,  and your undeniable need and love towards God.

children do that, watch them, learn from them. 

Last Night

When I complained about my numbness enough it finally disappeared. 

during the holy month of ramadan the last ten days are very special, and there is one night that is even more special. It is a magical night that has been divinely described to us as a night better than a thousand nights. And in deed it is, it is not for sure which night it is, but scholars have predicted that most probably it is the twenty seventh night. Being a romantic such descriptions and poetic depictions make my heart melt. Especially that I know that these are the words of God. I realize that the relation between one and his creator is deeply personal but I can not help it that I want all the people I love to get closer to God. 

It is not right to compare but on a much much much smaller scale, it is like you have a friend and you want them to meet your best friend or your mother or your father. The closer you get to your new friend the more you want them to know that amazing parent of yours or that incredible best friend. It is hard to accept that your father will never be friends with your new friend, it is actually painful to see your friend who you care deeply about not willing to spend any time with your best friend or parent. 

There is this whole world in the relation between one and his divine creator and it just hurts that so many good people fail to experience it. It is like getting married with zero romance, since in every step of the way one knows God is here but the failing to communicate is like being married for practical motives. There is no magic in the practical life, there is no romance in the life of  the being who's heart does not pray every step of the way . I was deeply depressed before I found my conversation with him last night. I had forgotten about how comforting it is to talk to the one who knows me best. I knew how distant I was and how in this ramadan i haven't done all the things that pave my way to him and prove my love to him and show my need for him. I was caught up with my ego my flat self and my boring existence, but finally when I could not bare it any longer I found my way back. He is always in my heart but it was like we have not spoken for a long time. Speaking his words loudly with great concentration is  an amazing meditation. All ways lead to him and for muslims our fasting, our prayers are our way to reach him.

Without contact with him I am dead, I strive on the romance with him and like a child running to his missed parents I run back to him.

My best friend told me when I complained about about my distance from him, she told me the beauty of him is that you can always come back to him and he will be waiting. I wondered who else is always waiting? Who else will always be there? Who else's silence means more than a thousand babbling ? If you call hard enough for him,  all that matters is your true desire in him. he will be there and all his angels will come and hug you.

 You who are so distant realize what you are missing it is a whole world of romance and light better that a thousand nights.

As I prayed I realized how similar the muslim prayers are to the sun salutations in yoga and how close the movements are. The poses are very similar, and it gives a similar feeling. 

It is so much nicer and more comfortable to be supported by him, than to carry all your burdens alone. It is so amazing to know you are not alone. It is great to have him surround you, it is truly liberating ridding my self from my pride and sticking my forehead to his ground and confessing how little I am. 

Last night I wish I went to a group prayer, the power of the positive energy combined, gives you strength for the whole year, but I could not leave the house. However there is an intimacy in praying alone in your room one that can not be compared by anything else.

Me and my family believe that which ever night you feel it the most is your magical night, however something about last night was obviously special. Last night it was dark yet the sky was lit with white light, last night it was so quiet no dogs were heard barking. Last night prayers were heard more than they do on any other night. Last night I met my lover and we united all night, until the sun rose and things were less magical again. 

I wondered what if every day of our lives was a leilet el qadr? What if our hearts were awakened every night of our life? What if we did not drift so easily? and what if our desire for unity never slept?