Showing posts from March, 2009

Flirting with the Devil

Your children are not your children, They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but are not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children As living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, So he loves also the bow that is stable. On Children from "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran, 1923 Before we attempt our

Happy Mother's Day

A few days after March 21st, when Mother’s Day is celebrated in this part of the world, I lost her. That was ten years ago. I remember the last thing she told me very clearly, as if it happened only last night. She had spent the last few days of her life mostly unconscious. She would wake up, open her eyes briefly and repeat the same phrase over and over then pass out again. “ Don’t let them take my ring away from me .” She was of course referring to her wedding band as she was worried that after she dies the golden ring will be removed from her finger as per religious tradition. She was an avid believer in the afterlife and keenly practiced her spiritual duties. Yet she was even more devoted to the love of her life, my father. Her last thought, her final worry, her ultimate wish on the face of this earth were to keep his ring with her forever. And we made sure she did. My farewell memory of her was of her feet. As soon as she passed away I knelt by them, I held them in my hands then I

Pillow Talk

A few years back an Italian colleague was visiting Syria and we traveled together on business to Aleppo, Homs, Lattakia then eventually Damascus. We had nothing to do on our last day before he was to fly back to Venice and I offered to take him around and show him the ageless beauty of the oldest capital in the world. Francesco asked me if we could go shopping and although it was, and still is, one of my least favorite activities I was delighted to help. He was a great travel companion and I pleasantly inquired about what he had in mind. “ An oriental dancer (belly dancing) costume ,” he told me, his eyes steady and unblinking. I swallowed hard yet kept smiling reassuringly. How in the hell was I going to overcome my acquired modesty and actually ask someone where to buy one of the most sensual pieces of feminine attire, I pondered covertly. I called a friend of mine, a very pretty Damascene girl I once knew and posed the question. “ Now that you’re in your 40’s you’re getting kinky a

Live and Let Live

In response to the latest bigoted outcry on the Syrian Blogsphere against Homosexuality. I never ever imagined that there will come the day when I would have to stand up and fight for the right of homosexuals to be what they have chosen to be. I don’t condone their outlook on life, I don’t concur with their preferences, I don’t truly understand their choice but this is how far I go. My personal judgment and bias should not blind me from seeing that they exist and that I have to shut the fuck up and abide by their freedom of choice. How can we stop ourselves from repudiating all forms of nonconformity? Should we start cleaning our society ( as if our society is clean to start with ) from homosexuals and then relentlessly go down the list. Let us clearly identify the next targets (victims) of this moral crusade. Atheists, adulterers, drinkers, un-hijabed women, un-bearded men, lovers, nightclub patrons, beach bums, hot chicks, artists, poets, communists, irreverent writers, people