It is 2:00 AM. And I am working.. and probably still have 3 hours of work! The buzz of the water pumper is deafening. I do not want it to rain now. I want it to be cold… like 12 C cold. I want to put my coat on, my light coloured scarf around my neck, tuck my hands in my pockets, wear my high heels boots and walk in the old, empty streets of Cairo. I do not feel like talking. I want to be alone or with someone who would not find my silence unbearable.

I am needing love, and I am fearing love. I got used to my being alone that I am sick of it.

Mmm… It is not needing love per se. I need someone to walk with. Yes, someone to walk with. To silently walk with. Someone whose sheer presence is enough to give me strength, hope and light. Someone whose very normal “just thought of saying saba7 el foll” sms is enough to make me endure whatever comes from the world. Someone whose rhythmic sound of breathing soothes away all the horns and shrieks that fill my ears throughout the day. I used to say: “I want someone to care for, love and even fight with.” Now, all I want is to sit beside someone, rest my head on his shoulder and exhale.

Moonz (the boss)… she doesn’t like being called “boss”. She is our Spiritometer and our FULL MOON :)

Siksik (a.k.a Batout).. her laughter is enough to dispel any glooms around. A fellow strong girl that always makes me feel good.

Daisy.. the quiet girl that turned out to be so powerful that she scares our Research Director ;)

Nemo, blended in the team as if she’s been there since it all started. Beautiful inside out :)

And finally, Rury.. used to be 2otta meghamada.. now she’s the naughtiest (and always à la mode) girl in the team ;) My younger sister more than a colleague.

Do you know now why I look forward to going to work every day? I have the BEST team ever :)

——

Pic designed by the boss ;)

 

صديقتي العزيزة جداً جداُ روو (المعروفة أحياناً برحاب رجائي :)) .. تم نشر قصة قصيرة لها في مجموعة قصصية صدرت مؤخراً عن التكية. قصة روو عنوانها “تائه لا أبالي”. كتابات رحاب إما مثيرة للجدل جداً (لدرجة إني بابقى عايزة “أغُزَها” ساعات :)) أو حميمية جداً لدرجة إنها بتلمس الواحد من جوا قوي. ا

الكتاب متواجد في عمر ستور (وسط البلد) وفي كل منافذ توزيع أخبار اليوم. ا

ألف مبروك يا روو :) عقبال كتاب كامل بإسمك يا رب :)ا

This is one of the “I love you” notes that my very much adorable 7-year old nephew Saif creates for me :) He left me this one on my pillow :)

P.S.: “Miss Mayada” because I teach him English :)

For some reason, Pecola from The Bluest Eye by Tony Morison is haunting me these days. She was a black child who wanted to exchange her eyes for blue ones – metaphorically, a desire to change her identity. I always wanted to have “lighter-colored” eyes. Do I want a “lighter” identity? Is it weighing down upon me? I think it is! I need to let go of the so many worries and thoughts that burden my mind and heart. I need to be less obsessed with plans, crazier, and more accepting of people as they are without trying to change anything in them.

I would give my heart away… for a fresh one.

A few days ago, I read this and I could not stop thinking about it. Then a few moments ago I remembered when that special person from the past used to tell me how I looked absolutely beautiful when I cried – something that stunned me at first because I always thought I looked so horrible with my reddish nose and wet eyelashes. I just could not understand how he saw me beautiful then. Was it love? Or there is something magical about crying? I think it is both, no? Love makes you see things in your partner that s/he doesn’t see in her/himself. And crying brings out the soul; no reddish nose or curled mouth is seen. The soul with its distress and vulnerability are brought to the foreground to show how much we’re in need for others, and how much we’re all beautiful from within even though we sometimes put gray shades on this beauty. But it is still there. And it takes something as powerful, yet simple, as crying to bring it to the light.

When you feel like crying, don’t hold it back. It melts the masterfully built masks we constantly wear to look all very strong and invincible.

Beethoven Love Letters – The Third Letter

 Good morning, on July 7

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us – I can live only wholly with you or not at all – Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits – Yes, unhappily it must be so – You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart – never – never – Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life – Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men – At my age I need a steady, quiet life – can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day – therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once – Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together – Be calm – love me – today – yesterday – what tearful longings for you – you – you – my life – my all – farewell. Oh continue to love me – never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

Ever thine

Ever mine

Ever ours

 

أبحث عن إسمك في فنجان قهوة يبتسم لي في حنان.ا

أتلمس وجهك بين أشجار تتهامسن عليّ.ا

أستنشق نفسُك في رياح خريفية تربت على وجنتيَ.ا

صوتك يدندن بأغنيتي المفضلة .. في مكان ما.ا

سأرقص معك على تراس كبير،ا

على أنغام تشيلو عملاق وكمانٍ لامع.ا

لن ألتفت للمياه الزرقاء ولا للبيوت ذات الأسطح الحمراء.ا

سيشغل وجهك كل المساحة الفارغة حولي،ا

وداخلي.ا

ستكفيني عينيك،ا

ستكفيني عينيك..ا

يوماً ما.ا

يجلس بجوارها في غرفتها بالمستشفى، يحاول أن يتحكم في تعبيرات وجهه.. كما يفعل دائماً. ينجح.. كما يحدث دائماً. يلقي نظرة على إبنتيه. تنظر إحداهما إلى الأرض. يعلم أنها تبكي. تمسك الأخرى بمصحف صغير تقرأ فيه بهمهمة غير مفهومة بينما تمسح إحدى يديها العبرات التي تتساقط على الورق. يعيد بصره إليها. يراقب وجهها الهزيل ونفَسها الصاعد والهابط.ا

ا“أنا آسف. قدامها حوالي ساعة.”ا

ترفع إحدى يديها وتشير في إتجاه إبنتيها. ينادي هو عليهما فتهرعا ناحيتها بلهفة. “سيبوني مع بابا شوية.” تنظرا إليه. لا يفهما ولكن تُقبل كل منهما يد أمهما وتنصرفا خارج الغرفة. يظل جالساً على كرسيه بجوار سريرها. تدير رأسها ناحيته وتقول بصوت خافت: “راضي عني؟” كان يعلم كم كان مهماً بالنسبة لها أن يكون راضياً وسعيداً معها. لم يرى زوجة مثلها. كانت تفعل كل شيئ في مقدورها لتسعده. حتى في تلك الأوقات القليلة التي كانا يتشاجرا فيها، كانت تصالحه حتى لا يبيت ليلة وهو غضبان منها. على الرغم من ذلك، كان يعاملها ببعض الجفاء. هو يحبها.. كثيراً في الواقع. ولكنه كان يعلم أنه إذا أظهر كم يحبها ستتمرد عليه وربما تتركه. شأن كل النساء، لا يستوين إلا لمن يكسرهن ويخضعهن. لم يكن يسئ معاملتها ولكنه يعترف أنه لم يسألها قط إذا ما كانت سعيدة معه أو راضية. نظر إليها وقبل أن يفتح فمه ليجيب أردفت: “يعني لو ربنا سألك إذا كنت عملت واجبي ناحيتك وإذا كنت راضيتك لحد ما مت هاتقول له إيه؟” حاول أن يقول لها أنها كانت نعم الزوجة والأم وأنه يتمنى لو يطيل الله في عمرها أكثر من تلك الساعة ليقضيا بقية عمرهما سوياً، إلا أنه لم يستطع. “راضي، راضي.”ا

تصمت للحظات، تغمض عينيها قبل أن تفتحهما وتقول بصوت بدأ يتهدج: “طلقني.” كاد أن يسقط بالكرسي عندما عاد فجأة للوراء وهو ينظر إليها بعينين متسعتين عن آخرهما: “بتقوللي إيه؟” أخذت تبذل مجهوداً لكي تتكلم وهي تنظر إلى عينيه: “أنا عشت معاك فوق الثلاثة وعشرين سنة، خدمتك إنت وولادنا وحاولت إني ماقصرش في أي حاجة. وأعتقد إني وفيت. إنت قلت إنك راضي. طلقني أرجوك.” لم يفهم. هل بدأت تفقد عقلها؟ هز رأسه وهو يقول: “ليه؟ ليه؟” بدا أنها تقاوم لكي تبقي في وعيها: “مش عايزة أموت وأنا إسمي على إسمك. مش عايزة إن لو ربنا شاء ودخلت الجنة تكون إنت جوزي.” ماذا فعل؟ ماذا فعل لها لكي تصل إلى تلك الدرجة من كرهها له؟ أحقاً تكرهه؟ لأول مرة خلال حياتهما معاً لايتحكم في معالم وجهه. تظهر علامات الألم والذهول الغير مصدق على وجهه. يقول بصوت خافت، مذنب: “بس أنا عايزك تفضلي مراتي في الجنة.” إرتجفت وشهقت وبدا أنها على وشك الرحيل. قفز من مقعده وجلس بجوارها على السرير وأمسك بيدها. أخذت تحاول أن تنظم تنفسها حتى هدأ قليلاً. هي لا تشعر بالألم الآن.. تعدت تلك المرحلة. الآن جاء الوقت الذي يشعر هو بذلك الأم المر الذي تجرعته لسنوات. “كفاية عذاب الدنيا. طلقني أرجوك.” لم يعرف ماذا يفعل. بلا وعي، أخذ يضغط على يديها في يديه، يقبلها ويضعها على خديه، يمسح بها دموع لم ترها في حياتها. الوقت ضيق.. ضيق.. مثل فتحة إبرة مسدودة. صوت جهاز القلب الذي بدأ في التسارع يدفعه للجنون. صوت شهقاتها التي بدأت في الإرتفاع يجعله يريد أن يصرخ. عيناها تتعلق بشفتيه في أمل. “سامحيني. إنتي طالق.” تنظر إليه للحظة بشبح إمتنان في عينيها المتسعتين قبل أن تهدأ فجأة مع تحول الخط المتعرج في جهاز القلب لخطٍ مستقيم.ا

لن يعلم.. ولن يفهم.. كما إكتشف أنه كان يحدث دائماً.ا

If you ever see me cry, hold my hand, hug me, or even look away. Just do NOT motionlessly stare!

I just finished The Mermaid Chair, a novel I started around a year ago, stopping many times to read almost 15 books in between the first and last pages. For some reason, I picked it up from my library a week ago, finishing almost 300 pages in 7 days. Now let me start by giving it a rating: I’d say 2 stars (out of five). I do not understand how it was a bestseller!

So, what is wrong with the book? Flat. Although there is a lot of diving into the minds of some of the characters, yet it’s as if you’re seeing someone is striving inside whether to go to the shoemaker or to go grocery shopping! Kidd could not get me emotionally involved but in the last 70 pages. The main plot of the novel (Jessie falling out of marriage and in love with a monk) is not closely as interesting as the sub-plot (the reasons behind Jessie’s mother cutting her fingers one after the other). 

Kidd tried to make the novel a quest of realizing one’s self (a mystical journey, some might claim). I have to admit the speech at the end when Jessie said “All my life, in nameless, indeterminate ways, I’d tried to complete myself with someone else – first my father, then Hugh, even Whit, and I didn’t want that anymore. I wanted to belong to myself” was powerful but not the journey itself. She has been through physical toil (of being with her mom through the stressful period of cutting her fingers, being hospitalized and through recovery) but not emotional/psychological one.

The novel is a not-so-good version of the masterpiece The Awakening by Kate Chopin. Many motifs (sea/water, (physical) love, clothes…etc.) in The Awakening are used in The Mermaid Chair. But most of them are not skilfully or profoundly employed as Chopin did in her novel. The final scene in The Awakening where Edna goes inside the sea is re-used here but I have to admit in a good way:

“When the water swelled above my knees, I stopped and dug in my pocket for the bits of twine I’d gathered off the lawn at the monastery. I wanted to tie a knot that would go on forever. But not with anyone else. With myself.”

Although the novel ends in the same status as before Jessie starts her self-realization quest- back to her marriage and abandoning her love, yet she has gone through re-birth; she lost her old self, went really deep in sin and suffering just to rise up with a new identity. Or as Whit, her lover monk, said that they were going to be each others’ damnation and salvation.

 What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

A blessing I never thought of: I can pray; I have the physical ability to stand, kneel and rest my head on the ground, others don’t. I have the safety of practicing praying without the fear of being bombed or slaughtered because I am from a different religion, others don’t. I have the ability to read and understand most of the Quran because Arabic is my mother tongue, others don’t. I have faith, others don’t!

 

الحمد لله على نعمة الإسلام… وكفى بها نعمة.ا

Maybe if you lose your individuality, if you just go on with the current, if you live faceless, you’ll be happier! But can you?!

Generally, I am not an advocate of change. I feel restless and uncomfortable when I change anything (with the exception of very few things). I usually grow emotionally attached to my inanimate possessions. Recently, I had to change mobiles. In the process, I found a wealth of smses; numerous ones from Rou simply reading: “I love you!”, from Meto thanking me for something or telling me he cried from one of my stories, Nerro and the unexpected “How are you ya samakayty?” that truly makes my day, Sola with her “I miss you” that makes me miss her even more than I already do. I first wanted to move all those messages but then thought why do I need to? I already have the people and their love. I do not need a few lines to remind me of what I have. I took a deep breath and did it; I deleted over 570 messages; some of which came from people I talk to no more, and others from people that are still blessing me with their presence in my life. Sometimes love vanishes, friendships end, and sparks fade away. But this does not mean that, at a certain point in time, we did not enjoy that special moment of loving and being loved. For what is here, cease it and enjoy it. For what has passed, don’t cling too much to it. This is just “life”!

هي: تحمل له دوماً في حقيبة يدها دايت سويت لأن “دمه زي العسل فا مش محتاج سكر زيادة” كما تقولها للآخرين بإبتسامة عريضة بدلاً من أن تخبرهم بأنه مريض بالسكر.ا

هو: “مكان مافيهوش تدخين” يقولها للنادل عندما يكون معها على الرغم من أنه مدخن، لأنه يعلم كم هي ضعيفة رئتيها.ا

تأكل “نص بطن” مع الأولاد. يأكل “نص بطن” مع زملاء العمل. يأكلا نصف البطن الآخر معاً.ا

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’99
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be
it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by
scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering
experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh never mind; you will not
understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and
recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before
you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you
imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as
effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm
on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with
people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes
you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with
yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you
succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your
life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they
wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe
you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky
chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t
congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your
choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body,
use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people
think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever
own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for
good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the
people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you
should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and
lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you
knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live
in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will
philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize
that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were
noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund,
maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one
might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will
look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who
supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the
ugly parts and recycling it for more than
it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen…

The day started with deciding to wear something new. I picked a royal blue top, white shirt, white skirt and a colorful scarf. Wearing light make-up, I did not try to look perfect. In fact, I was in a hurry that I did not have the final, comprehensive look that I usually have to make sure I have all my clothes on :) Before reaching work, I received an sms from a friend that made me smile and feel instantly high. Checking my e-mail, I found the most beautiful compliment that was ever said to me about my smile. This mesmerized me! Again, I felt very high specially that several people at work commented that I looked different today. Yes, I looked different because I felt… different. I had this feeling of being beautiful. I do not know why I felt this way but it just showed. In a big gathering in the evening, the comments kept coming from different people, close and distant. I wish I could keep this feeling as long as I can.

I know one thing for sure, we feel beautiful when we see ourselves beautiful in the eyes of our dear ones :)

Haven’t been writing for some time. Yes, I was too busy but that was not mainly it. It was as if I was afraid if writing because when I do, I pour it all out. Even now, I am considering just closing this page and go watch some movie. What exactly am I escaping from? Mmm… I do not want to know!

Thirty, I just turned thirty. The number sounds… distant! All my friends who turned thirty said they felt nothing. But I feel… something. I do not know exactly what it is. It’s not feeling old or worn out. It’s just a feeling of … being alienated, I think! Suddenly I feel as if there is a layer, a transparent one, between myself and the world. I can see everything still but I am a bit emotionally distant.

Since I cannot really identify the feeling itself, I’ll just drop it and focus on evaluating the past year. A full year, I’d say. I had many gains, thank God. I was blessed by getting close to some people that I cherish the most and hope would always keep in my life. I have also had my share of loss and failure. But I am grateful to that as well because with every loss there was a gain, an unexplored corner of me that was revealed, experience added to my existence.

Do you remember my post about small things? Yes, it’s the small things that I remember from the past year:

A note from Nahla beneath a 1 liter pack of pineapple juice in the morning on my desk (don’t ask who’s Jac.. it’s our secret ;) )

 

It’s Raghda when she checks on me with a concerned “are you okay?” whenever I am feeling down. Her tolerance of my mood swings.

It’s the feeling of deep gratitude for Rou when she always gets me pineapple juice whenever we’re in an outing with friends.

It’s the “I miss you” sms-es from Sola with “I wish we were in my place ordering pizza cheese lovers with salami and mushroom… talk, laugh or even cry together.”

It’s the amazing understanding and love from my work mates (Roro, Nemo, Moonz, Samar, Siksik and Daise) who always stood by me and made me feel appreciated.

A note from Salwa attached to a big pineapple juice pack wrapped in gift paper with red hearts:

 

It is the unconditional support (medical and emotional :) ) I’ve been receiving from Meto.

Nerro’s hugs and girls’ talk that make me feel 15 years old :)

On my birthday, I had some disappointments. Some people I expected would call but they didn’t and others just sms-ed. But on the other hand, I received unexpected calls which left me with a big smile on my face. I received amazing gifts; six of my beautiful girl friends indulged me with a gift from The Body Shop with my favorite scent (I already started using that :) )

 

And when I thought Meto forgot about my birthday because he didn’t call, I confronted him and he said “no comment” and less than a minute later I found this approaching my desk :)

 

Raghda wrapped her gift in purple cloth and scattered around it Mars, Lindt and Risen :) This is what I call a gift of love.

 

Yet the disappointments were still lingering in my heart till Rou called me on Thursday for coffee after work. How light I feel when I am talking to her… listening to her wise words about how to say things because people could get intimidated by my sometimes blunt way of expressing myself.

Later on Thursday still, Nahla invited me to dinner in a fine Italian restaurant overlooking the beautiful Nile. She went there before me to arrange for some stuff, as I discovered later on. I was speechless when I found purple flowers on our table and a greeting card inside the menu that the neat waiter handed me. All I could say was: “Marry me!” :D (For those who do not know us, we’re both straight. I just couldn’t believe someone would do ALL this for me… taking the extra mile to make me that happy). The evening was nothing less than splendid. At the end of it, I thought of the disappointments I had and I found out that they were all gone with the help of all the efforts that my friends exerted to make me happy. I couldn’t stop a couple of tears from rolling down. I just held Nahla’s hand and said a genuine “thank you!”

To my family and friends, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for what you added to me in the past year; the bliss and happiness of having you near, even the little clashes that made me value you more.

To you, Mermaid… keep counting the blessings and appreciating the failures. Happy Birthday!

Inspired by Nerro’s post weired reading habits, I decided to write mine :) So, here are some of my reading rituals:

Most of my “deep” readings are done in bed. I prefer reading alone in order to minimize interruptions and also because I sometimes talk to authors like “eih el gamal dah ya Kundera!” which is something would make others declare me an official lunatic for! On my bed, there are always 1-2 books. When I am heading to bed not too exhausted and intending to read, I bring along something nice to drink or chew on like juice or chocolate. It’s like a combo pleasure experience; a good book for my heart and mind and happy food for my stomach :)

I used to underline the lines I like using any pen or pencil until I found out about the colored flags (thanks to Nerro!). I have a database of all the books I have with a very important column; “borrowed by”. Yes, I lend my books to friends because I like to encourage people to read. Of course I stress that I need my books in the same condition I gave them in. In my whole life, I have given away almost five books (besides my adolescence “Ragol el Mosta7eel”). I don’t borrow books. When I do, I don’t read them. I think I get scared of liking the book and not being able to give it back.

I usually read one book at a time unless they’re from two different genres (one poetry and one novel) or different languages. I am a fast reader. If while reading I skip even a word, there would be something nipping at my mind and I am never at peace but when I get back and read the whole line again.

I do not look at page numbers. Whenever I catch myself peaking at them, I know I am bored.

I don’t spend too much money in anything except books. I have unread books that would suffice my needs for the coming two or three years. So, a few months ago, I had a serious stop with myself and took a decision of not buying any books for the rest of the year. I am committed to the decision so far :)

From college days, I still have the habit of reading parts of the English books out loud, something I used to do to fix my accent. One weird habit I miss very much is reading dictionaries! Yes, I used to read Al Mawred English-Arabic during college days and used to enjoy it very much. I think I stopped because there are many, many other books that are snatching me to read them.