اليوم، يمكن حضراتكم مستغربين انو حضرتي مش عم بكتب الانجليزي كما عودت قرائي المحترمين من ابناء الفرنجة و"المتفرنجين" ،زي حضرتي، على حد تعبير بعض اللي مش عاجبهم انو جمهور قرائي هم كمشة اجانب وانا "انسيت يا احمد العربي والقارئ العربي المثقف" اللي طبعا ومع جل احترامي له و لشرفه المصون عيفني اسم ستي وهو بتفلسف بنسق غربي على كل مشاكل هالبلد والسياسات الصورية تبعتها: بس مش مشكلة على رأي اخوي وحبيب قلبي أبو احمد أبوعطوان بقلهم كلهم "حياكوا الله من ملفاكوا لملقاكوا".
نسيت احكي ليش انا اليوم كاتب بالعربي العامي ويا سيدي كمان بالفلسطيني العامي. السبب الاول هو انو انا زلمة بحب الجكر والسبب الثاني هو انه موضوعي لليوم ما بيتعبر عنه بلغة بليغة موزونة ومحكمة، ولا لغة منمقة مرصعة بالمصطلحات الخنفشارية، ولانه الصوت العامية الاوحد في هاظا الموظوع يعود للشريحة الاساسية والمركزية له وهي المغيبة كلياً عنه .. طبعا للي مش حدق وما فهم حضرة جنابي عم بحكي عن الشعب الفلسطيني المعتر وشبابه المزتزتين زي كروت الشدة بعد طوشة لعبة "تركس" على دوار المنارة واكيد ايضاً "استحقاق ايلول".
تخافوش ما حدا يسكر الصفحة صلوا ع النبي يا جماعة الخير، واذا ابوي عم بقرأ هالحكي بحب اقلك انو طول بالك مش راح اخرب بيتكم (انشاء الله) انا ما راح اغوص بتفاصيل كتيرة ولا راح اشل عرض حدا، انا عندي هالكلمتين اللي خانقين قلبي وبدي ازتهم واستكمل عملية الفرنجة الدماغية تبعتي (اللي ضحك لما قرأ فرنجة... عيب!!!).
اليوم كنت انا والحج والحجة بمدينة رام الله عم منمخمخ على شوية بوظة "بلدنا" وسبحان الله على سيرة "بلدنا" بجيلك شبين اسم الله عليهم والعين تحرسهم، عفوا قصدي تطرقهم، ماشيين مشية ابو عربك المتعارف عليها ولسانهم ما سلمت منه ولا انثى بالشارع، حتى ووحيات عيون الغوالي انو كان في بسة وطقسوا عليها. الشابان الشلبيان ناتعين كومة اعلام بيضاء ملفوفة وريحتهم طالعين من المطبعة تازة (او طازة) مفحفحة وبوزعوا هلأعلام وعلى البيعة ضحكات مقززة زي صباحم المنيل بألف نيلة (صباح الوطن المشرق). وصلوا عنا، فالحج قلهم "يا شباب هتولكم واحد!" فناولنا من الشباك هالعلم الابيض الملفوف وريحة مواد الطباعة يعني وصلت نخاعي الشوكي قد ما هي قوية. فرد الحج هالعلم القزم مع عصاي عشان يتعلق عالسيارات واذ العلم الابيض مكتوب عليه بخط عريض مفرغ أحرف "يو إن" اكتبها بالانجليزي؟ ولا بلاش بلاش ما بديش ولا حرف لاتيني اليوم مش بعازتهم. ورقم 194 بالاحمر بالزاوية اليمين اللي تحت و جمبها مكتوب "دولة فلسطين" وعلم فلسطين (الحقيقي) محطوط يا دوب واضح. صفن الوالد بالعلم وقال "نفسي مرة بحياتي اوقف قدام علم بلادي وأحييه من قلبي من غير ما أحس انه هاي التحية منقوصة". ورب الكعبة يا جماعة الخير محسوبكم خفوا عقلاته اللي ضايلين، اول مرة بسمع ابوي بحكي هالحكي وكأنه باص رام الله القدس الكبير اللي الكل بكرهه عبطني على سرعة ألف وواحد. انا قلبي "قبظ على نفسه" ما عرفت انزل "أسطح" كل واحد قدامي بالشارع والا كعادتي اسحب سيجارة وأدخن همومي. هادا زلمة عمره 50 سنة ،عفواً ابو فؤاد 49، بحكي هالحكي. سألته ليش منقوصة (لا تخافوش صاحيله و بعجبكم) قلي "يابا الوطن مش كامل، في ناس هون وفي ناس مش هون وفي ناس بحلفوا بترابه برة ومش عارفين شو عم بيصير بالوطن واحنا طول ما احنا هيك الوطن ناقص والتحية ناقصة والعلم قيمته ناقصة لانو في ناس قلبوه سلعة لمصالحهم الشخصية وتغذية جيوبهم".
قبل ما أكمل بحب أحكي لكل واحد حالياً عم بفكر مجرد تفكير مجرد انه يفتح بجوقه بحرف ويقلي "ما انتوا أهل القدس..." اني بدي ألعن سنسفيل ابو اليوم اللي فكر في مجرد تفكير انو يتفلسف بهالموضوع لانه يا روح إمك الوالد الله يخليلنا اياه مواليد القدس ولكنه عاش كل حياته في رام الله من طفولته ودرس بالفرندز واشتغل برام الله 18 سنة يعني عدم المؤاخذة يا حبيبنا الحج عنده صرماي صارلها بالضفة اكثر ما صارلك انت فيها. (مفهوم؟ بعتذر للمحترمين لكن الحرص واجب).
هلا شوي نحكي برواق، مين فيكم فاهم شو دينو ل"إستحقاق ايلول"؟ يعني والله انا بتابع وبقرأ هالجرايد اللي اذا بتدور منيح بين كل الإعلانات اللي فيها بتلاقيلك خبر "كوييس" بنقرأ، بس وحيات عيون جارتنا ما فهمت اشي من اللي بينحكى. قلت من الممكن اني غبي واحمق و "إبن قدس" يعني بالقلنداوي "سوسو"، فرحت لعند هالعتاعيت السياسيين وسألتهم عن استحقاق ايلول، طلعوا العتاعيت مش فاهمين وانا فاهم اكثر منهم، لا والله والبعض منهم مش فارقة عليه يعرف. طب والعرس اللي عم منشوفوه؟ ... بعرف كذاب، ما في عرس ولا همي صدق لولا هلعلام وكمشة ناس حطوا صورة البروفايل على فيسبوك دعماً لاستحقاق ايلول واستحوا على دمهم وشالوها بعدين وحطوا صورهم بتل ابيب وصورهم وهمة عم "يعطوها" ببيت أنيسة، كان ما حدا يمكن اتذكر حدا غير اذا انتا من جماعة اللي عاملين هالفلم الهندي. أيواااا عكيناااا، مش مشكلة، يا رب اتسامحني. المهز يا عبد المعز هون هو انه الشعب مش فاهم شو عم بيصير ولا اللي بدو يصير بإستحقاق ايلول ولا حتى شوي يعني استحقاق ايلول؟. بيني وبينكم وما تحكوا لحدا هااا، انا حتى حاسس انه الاسم طلعه مدير التسويق بشركة من شركات الوطن الشلبية وبقله "حياك الله".
قبل كم يوم بقرأ بصحيفة "صوت الشباب الفلسطيني" الصحيفة اللي كتبت فيها مراراً وتكراراُ وبنظرلها على إنها مثال في الصحافة الشابة الراقية والموضوعية والواعية واللي ما بتبوس طيـــ ... حدا ولا بتمسح جوخ، في قضية العدد كتبوا الشباب والصبايا مشكورين عن استحقاق ايلول، ولولا انو انا بعرف همة ومصداقية هدول الشباب والصبايا كان ساورني الشك لانه ما في ولا مقابلة مع مسؤول رفيع المستوى ولا حتى مسؤول "ثخين" المستوى عن الموضوع رغم انه الواحد يحكي دينه وضميره المسؤولين بالعادة ما بوفروا فرصة يستقبلوا فيها الصحفيين الشباب ويجاوبوهم على كل اسئلتهم واستفساراتهم (مش عم بتخوت ولا عم بتهبل، بحكي جد في هاي النقطة ومن تجربتي الشخصية)، والسبب؟ إنو جماعة الجريدة كل ما ينسقوا مع حدا من جماعة المستويات بقولولهم مشغولين باستحقاق ايلول، طب حدا يقلنا شو استحقاق ايلول؟ سلامتك ودق طرنيب بحكولهم حكي ع الماشي ممكن تسمعوا من ابن جيرانا اللي بشجع برشلونة وبقلك انه احسن لاعب عندهم هو كرستيانو رونالدو (قصة حقيقية). فما كان لي سوى أن أستنتج وعلى مضض (ربنا الله انو على مضض) انو قلة قليلة من المسؤولين فقط قادرين على تفسير رموز هذا اللغز اللي ولا حدا فاهم شو يقول عنه للشعب وانه الشعب اللي هو فلسطين وهو الارض والعرض بالوقت الحالي هو فعلياً ايضاً الأطرش بزفة عرس ايلول. للي مفكرني نايم على بوزي بقله اني بعرف انو الموضوع انكتب عنه وقرفوا جدي بقبره وهمة بعملولي إضافات لمجموعات على الفيسبوك عن "إستحقاق ايلول" و"المقعد الطائر" إلي فعلا أكد لدماغي المتواضع انه اللي سماه هو نفس مدير التسويق بنفس الشركة الشلبية الآنف ذكرها، ولكن ما لاقيت توضيح وافي عن الموضوع في كل اللي ذكرته ولكي نزيد الطين بلة، محسوبكم فهم الموضوع بس لما قرأ مقال في هآرتس تحدث بإسهاب وتفصيل وفصفصة عن الموضوع، يا شماتة أبلة ظاظا فيا ...
بالنهاية، ربما انا عبيط ورخم، بس اذا كل (لا بلاش) نص (لا بلاش) ربع (يا سيدي كمان بلاش) خمس الشعب الفلسطيني مش عارف راسه من إجريه بهالإستحقاق فمعناه انو في شيء غلط يا عمي. كل الإحترام والتقدير لكل من يعمل ليلاً نهاراً كرمال عيون فلسطين وأهلها وعلى نافوخي من فوق كل الشباب الطيبة بس فرصة فوق العارضة وتتحول إلى ضربة ركنية انو الشعب يفهم حيثيات شيء بهذا الحجم، واذا كمان في حدا عم بطقع اصبيعه بدو يتفلسف ويقلي انو الرئيس حكى انو احنا بس بدنا إعتراف ودعم للقضية ومش راح ننهي الإحتلال بالتوجه فبقله انو ماشي يا سيدي حياكوا الله انتوا التنين بس ليش الشعب ما فهم هادا الموضوع الا هاليومين، اذا اصلا فهمه لهلأ؟ وليش بدل ما انروح ننطسلنا بفيتو ع قفانا بعد ما فتينا هالمصاري وطبعنا هل أعلام وطيرنا الكراسي ... عفواً هاي من أمنياتي، قصدي طيرنا "الكرسي الطائر" ونلجأ لحركات تسويق القضية وكأنها علبة كوكا كولا زيرو وبدنا انروجها أكثر من بيبسي ماكس والي انا بس اعرف مين مدير هالتسويق اللي طلع بهالفلم لانو يعني المجتمع المدني خلع طواحينه وهو بيعمل حشد ومناصرة للقضية جوا البلد وبالخارج عشان الحكومة تركز على قصص السياسة "المعقدة" وهلا جايين بدنا نعمل مهرجان ترويجي؟ يا شماتة عمو بي بي فيااا... على سيرة الحشد والمناصرة فرصة في القائم الأيمن للحارس فيكتور فالديس ترتد ويستلمها الظهير المدريدي سيرجيو راموس انو الحكومة حشدت وناصرت هالشعب الغلبان قبل ما يهزوا كتافهم (او اشي غير كتافهم ...) ولا لحظة لحظة ... الحكومة ؟ولا منظمة التحرير؟ ... انا أخربش بلشت ... عن اذنكم شكله لازمني كمان مرة اقرأ مقال هآرتس، احنا صحيح على هالسيرة، مين مرجعية الشعب الفلسطيني وممثله الشرعي؟؟ ولا بلاش والله بلاش هالحكي بس كرمال عيون ابو فؤاد وقلب ام فؤاد الحناين اللي ربوني ابوس تراب هالبلد وأموت باليوم خمسمية موتة وموتة زيهم ولا انهب قرش واحد طلع من دم رجل او امرأة فلسطينية كادحة عاملة مااا راح أعك وأناقش الموضوع. أبشر ابو فؤاد ... بكرا إعلان الدولة ... بس يا خووكم بدل ما اتكبوا الكرسي الطائر بعد ما تخلص هالهيصة حدا يبعتلي اياه مع شي عتال على المكتب وأنا بحاسبه وبكرمه لانه شكله مريح وانا بيني وبينكم انكسر ظهري من كرسي الواقع المخوزق اللي بقعد عليه (بلا قافية وبقافية) كل يوم. ودقي يا مزيكة ورقصني يا أيلول وسمعني أغنية "أودعك" وبهديها لكل الحبايب في جميع أقطار المعمورة وبسلم على خالتي إم حسن بالكويت بقلها "وصلتك تنكة الزيت وربطة الطابون؟" بتهون يا خالتي ام حسن .. بتهون أو بتهو فن!
بكرا إعلان الدولة - الفنان الفلسطيني باسل زايد و فرقة تراب الفلسطينية ايضاً
Friday, September 16, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Red Rose On A Concrete Wall!
An unclear mind is a blessing to me, nevertheless … a curse too. After a considerable period of time spent fruitlessly in Jordan I am home, again. For the first time in a very long time it doesn’t feel strange, I find myself unconcerned with the crazy life of people around me, the rocky roads of East Jerusalem neglected for years by the racist municipality no longer bother me, strangely! Even the hate crimes committed against Arab citizens of the holy city resulting in the death of one man and injuring several others seemed -shamefully- expected and oddly old news.
Perhaps my mind is fed-up with all the criticism of my city that my heart poured continuously during my last stay here and decided that it was better to just enjoy whatever this city has become, and filter in the beauty that it offers and drive out the unwanted depressing scenes that whatever this city has become is quite generous with, to say the least.
It has been two days, lots of doctors and lots of movement. On my first day I saw a few doctors that seemed to be intrigued by my medical case yet what I thought grew old came back to surprise me once again and that is their own surprise at how fluent my English is, and how I managed to understand thoroughly –in medical terms- the causes and effects of my illness … poor doctors, they have no idea of the time I spend doing what they were supposed to do, too bad for them, too bad for me hehe.
Being a Palestinian away from home is a little like Nietzsche on pills, all the madness is suppressed by whatever you are doing during your days, but it takes a little less concentration, missing out on a couple of pills and one experience and there you are … yes, welcome home, you are on Qalandya Checkpoint! My cousin and I were driving to Ramallah yesterday and while we were stuck in the unbearable traffic watching volunteers from the Qalandya refugee camp wearing nice reflective yellow vests steering the traffic into discontinuous motion I thought to myself:”wow, you gotta love their spirit, the economy is flipped up and corruption has done its job leaving them with non and yet here they are making good use of their time and energy to help people out … funny how only those who lived the narrow roads can recognize and react to someone in a narrow one”, suddenly the good Samaritans took of their vests and ran to the sides of the road, an army patrol was passing by and coming for them, why? Those are Palestinians doing something good for Palestinians, in case you have been living on a different planet or a fan of Jerry Springer then you should by now know that this is by some people’s standards … Dangerous! A few stones from our right, and a couple of rubber bullets from my left, a scream and a shout, a curse so well stated that for a second I wanted to write it down! A few more minutes of stone/rubber bullet cross-fire and we were on our way to Ramallah, Nietzsche is in the house, again haha!
Valentine’s Day, the least significant day of the year. Even when in a relationship unfortunate events added to the fact that I never had the chance to celebrate it with a person I loved romantically that is, yesterday was not any different unless thinking how it could have been is considered remotely a proper celebration, Valentine ’s Day in Palestine is still a different story waiting to be told a red rose on a concrete wall, hugs and kisses among female Israeli soldiers behind bullet proof glass sheets and Palestinian Romeos waiting on them nervously so they can get along with it and get to see their Joliettes … only in Palestine. Women are always said to be unpredictable and come with too many buttons to operate leaving men signing petitions that they should come with manuals and illustrative diagrams … rubbish, all a woman wants or needs is for a man to put a smile on her face and an identical one in her heart, now the whats and hows on what follows can quite frankly become the best selling manual ever known to humanity. Being the conceded man that I am, I hereby publicly say that I am gifted and my unmatchable gift is to know when a girl/woman is happy and when she is not and besides basing my judgment on a slap to the face when angry or a kiss on the cheek when happy I base them on purely scientific and humanitarian observations of the countless number of women I have interacted with and for some odd reason decided I was the right person to spill out their hearts burdens to … lucky me, I know! The easiest of all were the Russian nurses at the blood lab I went to this morning, now those Russian ladies are a tricky lot indeed, you have to keep open eyes and sharp ears to know when they suddenly switched from racing rants in Russian to giving you a two-word order in Hebrew, now Russian and Hebrew are two completely different languages but those fine needle-masters are too good at making them sound the same that making a manual on that would probably make the second best-selling manual in the region, leaving the “dealing with a woman’s reactions manual” undisputed in first place. Now I know and to a degree of medical, scientific, and deadly certainty that the lady at the reception was unhappy, and the three Russian ranting machines in the test room where in fact very happy, it’s a very simple observation … now I don’t know Russian except for a few words I picked up during a trip to Sharm Al-Sheikh from the working Egyptians there (not a joke), but the way those ladies spoke to each other and the looks on their faces told me all about their Valentine’s Day 2011 experience, you do not need a rocket scientist, the love guru or even a manual to tell you when someone is high on happiness or cursing bad choice and men that they never had under their breaths, blessed are those who feel that happiness but little do they know.
A very very very dear friend of mine got engaged recently; a friend that always gave me the purest yet sometimes the harshest advice on love and relationships who taught me a lot about life and inspired me in so many ways it would require a different blog post to attempt and suffice her unbounded kindness and guidance to me, I wish he nothing short of the very best and all the success and brilliance that her heart desires and happiness her soul requests in the days to come, cheers!
The best friends I have now, were probably the most I disliked in middle school … Mohammad Bakri and Khalil Salhab, you turned out to be two of the most caring friends I have and gave me unconditional support when I needed it … on that, a different blog post will have to do! Thank you.
In conclusion, only three things matter in life; Football (Not American football, the real FOOTball), Tango, and love and the only thing in common between them is Kicking! In football you have to kick some balls, when you Tango you have to kick some heels, and when you love … you certainly need to kick some fears … Good night :)
Perhaps my mind is fed-up with all the criticism of my city that my heart poured continuously during my last stay here and decided that it was better to just enjoy whatever this city has become, and filter in the beauty that it offers and drive out the unwanted depressing scenes that whatever this city has become is quite generous with, to say the least.
It has been two days, lots of doctors and lots of movement. On my first day I saw a few doctors that seemed to be intrigued by my medical case yet what I thought grew old came back to surprise me once again and that is their own surprise at how fluent my English is, and how I managed to understand thoroughly –in medical terms- the causes and effects of my illness … poor doctors, they have no idea of the time I spend doing what they were supposed to do, too bad for them, too bad for me hehe.
Being a Palestinian away from home is a little like Nietzsche on pills, all the madness is suppressed by whatever you are doing during your days, but it takes a little less concentration, missing out on a couple of pills and one experience and there you are … yes, welcome home, you are on Qalandya Checkpoint! My cousin and I were driving to Ramallah yesterday and while we were stuck in the unbearable traffic watching volunteers from the Qalandya refugee camp wearing nice reflective yellow vests steering the traffic into discontinuous motion I thought to myself:”wow, you gotta love their spirit, the economy is flipped up and corruption has done its job leaving them with non and yet here they are making good use of their time and energy to help people out … funny how only those who lived the narrow roads can recognize and react to someone in a narrow one”, suddenly the good Samaritans took of their vests and ran to the sides of the road, an army patrol was passing by and coming for them, why? Those are Palestinians doing something good for Palestinians, in case you have been living on a different planet or a fan of Jerry Springer then you should by now know that this is by some people’s standards … Dangerous! A few stones from our right, and a couple of rubber bullets from my left, a scream and a shout, a curse so well stated that for a second I wanted to write it down! A few more minutes of stone/rubber bullet cross-fire and we were on our way to Ramallah, Nietzsche is in the house, again haha!
Valentine’s Day, the least significant day of the year. Even when in a relationship unfortunate events added to the fact that I never had the chance to celebrate it with a person I loved romantically that is, yesterday was not any different unless thinking how it could have been is considered remotely a proper celebration, Valentine ’s Day in Palestine is still a different story waiting to be told a red rose on a concrete wall, hugs and kisses among female Israeli soldiers behind bullet proof glass sheets and Palestinian Romeos waiting on them nervously so they can get along with it and get to see their Joliettes … only in Palestine. Women are always said to be unpredictable and come with too many buttons to operate leaving men signing petitions that they should come with manuals and illustrative diagrams … rubbish, all a woman wants or needs is for a man to put a smile on her face and an identical one in her heart, now the whats and hows on what follows can quite frankly become the best selling manual ever known to humanity. Being the conceded man that I am, I hereby publicly say that I am gifted and my unmatchable gift is to know when a girl/woman is happy and when she is not and besides basing my judgment on a slap to the face when angry or a kiss on the cheek when happy I base them on purely scientific and humanitarian observations of the countless number of women I have interacted with and for some odd reason decided I was the right person to spill out their hearts burdens to … lucky me, I know! The easiest of all were the Russian nurses at the blood lab I went to this morning, now those Russian ladies are a tricky lot indeed, you have to keep open eyes and sharp ears to know when they suddenly switched from racing rants in Russian to giving you a two-word order in Hebrew, now Russian and Hebrew are two completely different languages but those fine needle-masters are too good at making them sound the same that making a manual on that would probably make the second best-selling manual in the region, leaving the “dealing with a woman’s reactions manual” undisputed in first place. Now I know and to a degree of medical, scientific, and deadly certainty that the lady at the reception was unhappy, and the three Russian ranting machines in the test room where in fact very happy, it’s a very simple observation … now I don’t know Russian except for a few words I picked up during a trip to Sharm Al-Sheikh from the working Egyptians there (not a joke), but the way those ladies spoke to each other and the looks on their faces told me all about their Valentine’s Day 2011 experience, you do not need a rocket scientist, the love guru or even a manual to tell you when someone is high on happiness or cursing bad choice and men that they never had under their breaths, blessed are those who feel that happiness but little do they know.
A very very very dear friend of mine got engaged recently; a friend that always gave me the purest yet sometimes the harshest advice on love and relationships who taught me a lot about life and inspired me in so many ways it would require a different blog post to attempt and suffice her unbounded kindness and guidance to me, I wish he nothing short of the very best and all the success and brilliance that her heart desires and happiness her soul requests in the days to come, cheers!
The best friends I have now, were probably the most I disliked in middle school … Mohammad Bakri and Khalil Salhab, you turned out to be two of the most caring friends I have and gave me unconditional support when I needed it … on that, a different blog post will have to do! Thank you.
In conclusion, only three things matter in life; Football (Not American football, the real FOOTball), Tango, and love and the only thing in common between them is Kicking! In football you have to kick some balls, when you Tango you have to kick some heels, and when you love … you certainly need to kick some fears … Good night :)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Tunisialution, Egyptalution ... because we can!
Rapture to my ears, honey to my soul … when that lady sings “Ya Habeebi”. To those who are fond of this Arab icon know who I am talking about by now, two words … that is all you need to say to run sweet chills across the spines of who have witnessed the phenomenon that Um Kulthum is, or of those who have never seen her magic on stage-like myself- but rather in the eyes of the elder generation, but the experience is not whole yet until you bless yourself with a long thoughtful night in the honorable presence of her thick voice and well composed music taking your thoughts on a journey to a time when one song united a nation, two decent, honest, and simple words left thousands glorifying her name “’Azamah ‘ala ‘azamah ya sit”; “Glory Oh Glorious Lady” … why?
“Ya Habibi” quite literally means “O’ my Beloved”, and I can’t find anything more Arab and more sincere to shout out of the top of my relinquished lungs and amid my teary eyes in honor and respect to the Tunisian and Egyptian people. The scope of my vocabulary is limited when it comes to describing “The revolution of the Jasmine” in Tunisia, unfortunately you will have to wait a couple of weeks at least for me to learn new superlatives to at least attempt –and eventually fail- to draw a wordily picture that can rightfully reflect the magnificence and significance of such a revolution. For years I have believed unwaveringly that the intensity of an event determines the quality and quantity of lessons to be delivered in light of the respective event, and boy did we see a lot, but boy? Have learned anything?
The Egyptian people, descendants of Sa’d Zaghloul, children of Um Kulthum and the eyes that the words of Najeeb Mahfouz and Taha Husein found light through have sung endlessly of freedom, unity and about a peasant David knocking out a tyrant Goliath, songs and chants that are archived under “fiction” in my head and found at the bottom shelves when looked up, but the past week have urged me to conduct a massive “make-over” for my cerebral library, a hard job that I am actually happily willing to do! Because these few days, the builders of the pyramids have risen once again, the wide-shouldered men and wide-hipped women of the fertile Delta have given birth not for one more hungry mouth added to the other 80 million hungry mouths waiting to be fed, but to a revolution … 30 years in bone-shattering labor!
For some reason, my friends assume that I am a political analyst (which I am not, really no!) I am not Egyptian, nor am I Tunisian yet people would always want to hear my views on the situation and I spent a considerable amount of time explaining and ranting about what I think and what I heard and theorized while sipping my coffee in front of my TV screen and on my facebook live feed page and realized that the only thing I am sure of and believe in is the fact that you do not have to be a political analyst or an Egyptian/Tunisian to have a say in what is going on … you only have to be human with feelings, heart and mind to recognize and understand the atrocities that have been committed by corrupt regiments around the world, what greed and dishonesty have lead us to these days, that is all you need.
I am proud of Tunisia today, and I am proud of the Egyptian people today and hopefully I will be proud of Egypt in the near future. With that said, I can’t wait for Palestine to be proud again. Don’t get me wrong here I am the most damn proud Palestinian you will ever meet, shamefully I admit that my contributions and sacrifices are irrelevant and approach zero when compared to what my fellow Palestinians have to done to make the dream of a Palestinian state one step closer to becoming a reality yet I hope that we Palestinians can learn today’s lessons in unity because the lessons that we Palestinians have taught in unity have been forgotten for some time now and need a good knock or two to refresh our memories, remember that the power of one is only strong when this “one” is the “many”. What have I learned? … When there is a will, there is a way. Change is here, change is eminent. United we stand, divided we fall.
Today, people have the say. Today and everyday from now on will be a triumph for the poor, the unprivileged, for the human living inside each and every one who believes in freedom, and the power of the people. Today, the characters in all the Egyptian comics and novels have triumphed, the slumdogs of Cairo, the Sheikhs of Azhar, the Monks of Aswan, the night-girls of October 6th street, and all the light-hearted old boys of Nahawand’s café in Tunis have all … ALL… equally emerged victorious today, kudos to them and woe betide the corrupt and inhumane.
I wonder what would Um Kulthum sing tomorrow? A’ ghadan A’lqak? (“Will I see you tomorrow”) … probably not Mubarak, but surely a new Egypt.
“Ya Habibi” quite literally means “O’ my Beloved”, and I can’t find anything more Arab and more sincere to shout out of the top of my relinquished lungs and amid my teary eyes in honor and respect to the Tunisian and Egyptian people. The scope of my vocabulary is limited when it comes to describing “The revolution of the Jasmine” in Tunisia, unfortunately you will have to wait a couple of weeks at least for me to learn new superlatives to at least attempt –and eventually fail- to draw a wordily picture that can rightfully reflect the magnificence and significance of such a revolution. For years I have believed unwaveringly that the intensity of an event determines the quality and quantity of lessons to be delivered in light of the respective event, and boy did we see a lot, but boy? Have learned anything?
The Egyptian people, descendants of Sa’d Zaghloul, children of Um Kulthum and the eyes that the words of Najeeb Mahfouz and Taha Husein found light through have sung endlessly of freedom, unity and about a peasant David knocking out a tyrant Goliath, songs and chants that are archived under “fiction” in my head and found at the bottom shelves when looked up, but the past week have urged me to conduct a massive “make-over” for my cerebral library, a hard job that I am actually happily willing to do! Because these few days, the builders of the pyramids have risen once again, the wide-shouldered men and wide-hipped women of the fertile Delta have given birth not for one more hungry mouth added to the other 80 million hungry mouths waiting to be fed, but to a revolution … 30 years in bone-shattering labor!
For some reason, my friends assume that I am a political analyst (which I am not, really no!) I am not Egyptian, nor am I Tunisian yet people would always want to hear my views on the situation and I spent a considerable amount of time explaining and ranting about what I think and what I heard and theorized while sipping my coffee in front of my TV screen and on my facebook live feed page and realized that the only thing I am sure of and believe in is the fact that you do not have to be a political analyst or an Egyptian/Tunisian to have a say in what is going on … you only have to be human with feelings, heart and mind to recognize and understand the atrocities that have been committed by corrupt regiments around the world, what greed and dishonesty have lead us to these days, that is all you need.
I am proud of Tunisia today, and I am proud of the Egyptian people today and hopefully I will be proud of Egypt in the near future. With that said, I can’t wait for Palestine to be proud again. Don’t get me wrong here I am the most damn proud Palestinian you will ever meet, shamefully I admit that my contributions and sacrifices are irrelevant and approach zero when compared to what my fellow Palestinians have to done to make the dream of a Palestinian state one step closer to becoming a reality yet I hope that we Palestinians can learn today’s lessons in unity because the lessons that we Palestinians have taught in unity have been forgotten for some time now and need a good knock or two to refresh our memories, remember that the power of one is only strong when this “one” is the “many”. What have I learned? … When there is a will, there is a way. Change is here, change is eminent. United we stand, divided we fall.
Today, people have the say. Today and everyday from now on will be a triumph for the poor, the unprivileged, for the human living inside each and every one who believes in freedom, and the power of the people. Today, the characters in all the Egyptian comics and novels have triumphed, the slumdogs of Cairo, the Sheikhs of Azhar, the Monks of Aswan, the night-girls of October 6th street, and all the light-hearted old boys of Nahawand’s café in Tunis have all … ALL… equally emerged victorious today, kudos to them and woe betide the corrupt and inhumane.
I wonder what would Um Kulthum sing tomorrow? A’ ghadan A’lqak? (“Will I see you tomorrow”) … probably not Mubarak, but surely a new Egypt.
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