Thursday, February 9, 2017

خواطر حول أفراح القبة

سرحان الهلالي


شخصية سرحان الهلالي شخصية مدير المسرح الذي يمسك بجميع الخيوط ويتلاعب بها في كل الاتجاهات. هو فعلا رب المسرح كل من فيه عرائس ماريونيت في يده، سواء أظهروا اعتراضهم أو لم يظهروه، انقطعوا عن العمل أو لم ينقطعوا، كل ما يريد سرحان هو ما يتم في النهاية. هو الاشرس شراً رغم هدوء انفعالاته وبروده في الكثير من المواقف مقارنة ببقية الشخصيات. خدع الجميع وتلاعب بحياتهم وأحلامهم والعجيب أن الكل لم يفكر في الخروج من كنفه وهم على علم بأن الغدر من طبعه. طارق قَبل أن يظل كومبارس لأن سرحان لا يراه يصلح لأدوار البطولة. كرم بعد أن وعده سرحان بأن يجعله مؤلفاً جعله ملقناً رغم اقتناعه بموهبته. حتى ابن كرم يعرض على سرحان مسرحياته وكأنه الوحيد الذي يمكن أن يعطيه رأياً سديداً. مع العلم إن رأي سرحان بهم جميعاً كان واحداً للتقليل من قدرهم.
 ما هو سر اهتمامهم برأي سرحان فقط وتوجيهاته ؟؟؟؟. كان من الأجدى الذهاب إلى مدير مسرح آخر. كما كانوا جميعاً يقولون "شارع عماد الدين مليان مسارح".

قد يكون ذلك رمزاً لفكرة القطيع. القطيع يمشي وراء الراعي حتى لو كان ظالم. 

في رأيي سرحان أكثر الشخصيات شراً حتى اكتر من بدرية وفتنة. هو الشرير الذي يعرف مفاتيح ونقاط ضعف ضحاياه. ولم يظهر في المسلسل كيف تحولت شخصيته مثل باقي الأشخاص. هو فعلاً مثل الذئب، يبدو طيباً وديعاً حتى يجد اللحظة المناسبة لينقض على فريسته ليسلبها إرادتها ويبقيها تحت قبة مسرحه بشروطه. 

في مفارقة قاسية نجد أن سرحان أجبر كل الممثلين على تمثيل أفراح القبة رغم قسوتها عليهم لأنها تمثيل صريح لحياتهم، في حين كرم يونس في الماضي عرض عليه رواية فتنة التي تحكي أيضا حياة سرحان شخصيا لكنه رفضها. رفض سرحان أن يرى قصة حياته في أضعف مراحلها وفرض على الجميع أن يروا بل ويعيشوا من جديد حياتهم في أسوء مراحلها. والغريب أنهم قبلوا بذلك. كم هو صعب أن يعيد الإنسان تجرع مأساته وإخفاقاته ومواجهة نفسه وهو يعلم ما سوف تؤول إليه!

فتنة

 

كندة علوش في دور فتنة مفاجأة، الدور مغاير تماما لطبيعة أدوارها المعتادة. أثبتت فعلا إنها ممثلة محترفة وليست مجرد مجيدة وحافظة لأدوار الطيبة والبراءة. لعبت دور الشرير الذي يجعلك رغم عنك تتعاطف معه حينما ترى مصيره. دور لم يتجاوز 5 حلقات ولكن تأثيره كان تأثير أدوار البطولة.

في إحدى الحلقات سألت فتنة كرم يونس "انت كنت ايه قبل ما تدخل المسرح وبقيت ايه بعد كدة". في إشارة لها إن المسرح هو الدوامة أو المتاهة التي حينما تدخلها تبدأ الصراعات والمؤامرات والشر وتتحول الشخصيات في سعي منها لتبلغ قمة المسرح وهو "قبة المسرح". فكرم يونس رغم ثقة فتنه به تآمر مع طارق وسرحان للتخلص منها، رغم برائته عندما دخل المسرح لأول مرة ودموعه البريئة التي جعلت فتنة تنجذب له.


تصوري عن الرمز الذي يحمله اسم الرواية






كما قالت فتنة إن الحاجة الوحيدة النظيفة هي الفن الذي يحدث تحت قبة المسرح. لكن وراء الكواليس غيلان تنهش بعضها البعض. ومن خلال أحداث المسلسل للأسف حتى قبة المسرح شهدت أيضا تلوثاً فنياً في فترة سنية.

اعتقد إن كواليس المسرح هي رمز للحياة التي يدخلها الإنسان بريئاً مثلما حدث مع كرم يونس وابنه عباس وغيرهم وتخطفه أضواء كواليس وخشبة المسرح وقبته هي الغاية والهدف الذي يبذل في سبيله كل شيء؛ هو اختباره الحقيقي ماذا سيفعل حتى يبلغها؟ ماذا سيخسر؟ هل سيخسر مبادئه؟ هل سيخسر نفسه؟ للأسف كل الشخصيات خسرت نفسها ومبادئها في سبيل بلوغ أفراح القبة. فرح النجاح تحت قبة المسرح.


قرأت الرواية قبل مشاهدة المسلسل وأقر وأعترف إن المسلسل أقوى من الرواية. استطاع المخرج محمد ياسين والسيناريست نشوى زايد أن يضيفا عمقاً لعمق الرواية الأصلية مع الاحتفاظ بأجواء ونكهة نجيب محفوظ. من يشاهد العمل يعتقد إنه مأخوذ من الرواية بكل تفاصيله لكن في الحقيقة المسلسل أضاف بعداً وعمقاً لشخصيات الرواية الأصلية كما أضاف شخصيات أخرى أكثر تأثيراً في الأحداث مثل شخصية بدرية وبناتها سنية وعلية وأشرف شبندي زوج سنية وأبيهم عبده وكذلك، شخصية فتنة وبدرية. ناهينا عن الإبداع في الديكور والتتر والأزياء والموسيقى التصويرية. هذا العمل ممتع بكل المقاييس، يجمع بين متعة العقل والوجدان في كل مشهد.

روابط نقدية:

بكل المقاييس أفراح القبة...كامل الأوصاف!

CINEMATOLOGY: أفراح القبة (المسرح...مراية)

#أفراح_القبة #سرحان_الهلالي #فتنة #سوسن_بدر #صبري_فواز #محمد_الشرنوبي #عباس_كرم_يونس #كرم_يونس #محمد_الشرنوبي #نجيب_محفوظ #محمد_ياسين

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

“A Wandering Question” for Mostafa Mahmoud

I asked myself what was the happiest moment in my life….!!

I started recalling a very long series of incidents in my life…The moment I got my first story published…The moment I graduated from the faculty of medicine…The moment I won a national prize in literature…The joy of first love or trip…The openness to the great world wandering in the virgin forests of Africa….Travelling to Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, England, France, and America….The moment I got the first 1000-pound salary…The moment I laid the first brick in the Islamic Center in Dokki….I went through all these moments and murmured “No, none of them is the moment I’m looking for”

It was another moment at night…when my happiness was mixed with tears of gratitude, joy, and delight…when I was in prostration (sujud) to Allah….I felt that everything is in sujud…my body in sujud….my heart in sujud…my bones in sujud…my organs in sujud…my mind in sujud…my conscience in sujud…my soul in sujud



At this moment my worries calmed down…my needs were gone…I witnessed the wisdom in justice and I was satisfied by it, I found the good in all the deeds of Allah, His justice in handling everything, His mercy in His fate, and His love in His curses...At this moment I felt while I’m in sujud that I’m back to my origin; to my real homeland from where I came, I realized my identity, my belonging, and who I am…

There is no I but Him and no one else

My arrogance ended…my stubbornness evaporated, my rebellion calmed down, this cover of darkness was revealed, as if I was suffocating underwater, then I managed to get my head out of this darkness to see the light and the world, taking a deep breath and breathing freely to break through everything…What a freedom!... Allah! what a breakthrough…As if I have been alienated in a temple…dismissed, imprisoned, and cuffed with manacles…Then I got released…As if I was an animal rotating with covered eyes, then the cover was lifted

Yes…At that moment I got free

Yes…This was a real moment of freedom…When I reached the ultimate slavery to Allah…And I was released from all the manacles that restricted me in this earth and its’ fake gods…money, glory, fame, honor, desire, victory, power….

I felt I don’t need anyone or anything. I became under the protection of the king of all kings who owns everything…

It was just a moment but it was like forever…Yes, my feelings and conscience got refined. This moment affected me throughout the rest of my life but it never came again…I went into sujud many times after that without reaching this level of devotion, freedom, purity and salvation.

I tried so many times with no use…These moments do not come as a result of the worshiper’s effort and desire but as a privilege from Allah…
At this moment, I realized real happiness

It is Allah’s paradise on earth that cannot be equal to any material or moral gain

Allah says to prophet Mouhamd (Peace be upon him) in Sura Al-Alq 19 “واسجد واقترب”
“Prostrate and draw near [to Allah]”

Translated by me from the book “A Wandering Question” for Mostafa Mahmoud.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

To Hell with Realism


Today, I was thinking of the word Regret. Many people at certain stages in my life, especially in stages of change, ask me “Are you regretting your decision and the past?” My spontaneous reply is “I never regretted anything” Ma shaa allah.

As part of my usual morning hallucinations, I asked myself why I haven’t regretted anything? Here are my answers:

  • I know that in every stage in life or change I learn something from the bad and the good, which makes me thankful.
  • I’m a person who values the good over the bad.
  • I enjoy challenges that come with the changes and the process of building myself up to cope with it with God’s help of course. I hate defeat and I hate to be defeated by challenges.
  • I know quite well that I’m the one who took the decision and I’m the one to take the responsibility for it too.
  • I hate wasting my time and energy over past things knowing that I can’t go back to fix or change them. I’d rather think of the future and how to make things better. I don’t even look back.
  • I believe that whatever we go through is part God’s destiny for us. And being our creator, he knows what is good for us even if we feel it is bad. God has his wisdom in everything happening to us.
People think I’m a dreamer and my feet are barely on the ground. But I don’t care. If I’m dreamer with no regrets, I don’t care, as long as this keeps me going and living with life’s ups and downs. To hell with realism that kills the dreamer in me.

Monday, April 8, 2013

The Illusion


Mr. Mohammed Basiony is an ordinary man. He spent half his life in learning and the other half in forgetting what he learnt at the hands of his office job.

In this world, nothing irritates him but to be told that his jacket is not buttoned up or that he looks unrespectable. The one and only example he lives up to is respect. For all his life, he has pursued one goal; respect.

 

He joined the faculty of commerce to be reputed as a respectable university graduate. He got a steady job to be attributed as a respectable employee. He married at an early age to be credited as a respectable husband. He chose his friend from amongst senior officials to be characterized as a respectable person. He wore the tie and the fizz on the dog days of August to be recognized as a respectable man.

 

Before speaking, he thinks, for a while, not of what to say but of what respectable people normally say in one situation or another. Then, he utters it rubbing his hands together and looking around in the eyes of people in an attempt to gather the looks of respect just like a peasant gathering cotton almond-like seeds from his farm.

He does not love his wife; on the other hand, she does not bear him. However, he maintains the form of relation between them to keep his respect.

 

One can not exactly understand who he is, for most of the time he lacks the he characterizing free men. He is what you want him to be, not what he wants to be. He gave up his character for people's respect and satisfaction, without stopping for a while to consider, argue or even suspect the significance of that respect. To him, respect is a sublime value, for which all realities diminish even his own reality.

 

I have just met Mr. Mohamed Basiony today, he seemed nauseated. I asked him what's up? He answered in disgust:

-What a cursed generation! Can you imagine that today I have found out that our youngster servant who hasn't reached her sixteen years of age is pregnant?! She has told me that she is pregnant by my son. A liar…this bit…Is it possible; my son did so, my well-bred son who is raised by a respectable family!

I answered calmly:

-It always happens in respectable families. Such families are infected by chronic constipation. Thus, naturally one day they may suffer bowel explosion.

-This sounds nonsense!

-I'm saying the truth. What have you done with that servant?

-I kicked her out. It is impossible to live with this plague.

It seemed that he did not want to listen to any further comments from me. He considered me as another kind of the plague that must be avoided.

 

Any way everyone of us went on in his way, but I have kept thinking of him. He went home to sleep with a woman; neither he nor she loves the other. He does that only in return for my respect. She does it in return for three meals, a pocket money and my respect as well.

After twenty years, the son has had it with respect. Respect has reached saturation point and thus it is given up all in all for a moment with the servant.

 

Perhaps, the servant is the victim of all. She has lost her job, chastity and may be her life as whole thanks to the unpredictable destiny of her pregnancy. She has lost everything for nothing. Even respect, she has lost forever. For her, remembrance is but an offensive sin.

 

As far as I am concerned, she is the most miserable of all, since she stands for the tax to be paid in return for our sins. She represents the minor adultery that veils the chief one prevailing in our homes under the title of marriage and that covers the major hypocrisy predominant in our societies under the title of respect.

 

Mr. Mohammed Basiony a leading hypocrite whose masks of respect always slip. His son is more sinful than that miserable servant who bears the err of all.

Transalted by me from Mostafa Mahmoud's Articles

https://www.facebook.com/dr.mostafa.mahmoud/posts/10150985986748813
 

Sunday, February 24, 2013

رواية يا مريم لسنان أنطوان


تدور الرواية في يوم واحد تجتمع فيه ذكريات جيل الكبار ممن تعدوا الثمانين وتختلط في ذاكرتهم أطياف وأيام من العراق الجميل وجيل الشباب الذين ولدوا قبل غزو العراق للكويت وعاصروا هذه الحقبة من الغزو وما تلاه من أحداث حتى يومنا هذا.

بطل القصة يوسف الذي تخطى الثمانين ومها الشابة الثائرة التي لم تتجاوز الثلاثين بعد. كلاهما ينتميان لأسرة مسيحية عراقية. يوسف يرى إن ما يحدث في العراق الآن ليس بفتن طائفية بل مجرد سحابة غيوم وسوف تمر، فمازال في ذاكرته كل ما هو جميل في العراق، الأصحاب وبيت العائلة الذي بناه والحديقة التي زرع فيها النخيل الذي يعشقه وروح أخته حنة التي تملأ البيت. أما مها فليس لديها من العراق غير خال تم اختطافه وقتله وبيت تم تهديد أسرتها بالقتل فيه مرة وتم تفجيره مرة أخرى وأسرة من أربعة أفراد تعيش في غرفة واحدة تنتظر السماح لها بالهجرة إلى كندا وطفل فقدته قبل أن يولد بأقل من شهر من جراء التفجيرات وحياة زوجية شابها الاكتئاب. كلاهما يحترم الآخر إلا إن ما بمها من ألم لا يجعلها تتحمل بساطة يوسف وطيبته التي تجعله يقول دائمًا دعونا ننظر للأمور بموضوعية. فكل ما يحدث ليس بفتنة طائفية وإنما لعبة سياسة. كيف يُطلب من مها أن تنظر للأمور بموضوعية. هي تنظر للأمور من واقع تجربتها الشخصية، من حياتها وتجربتها هي.

تسرد القصة تفاصيل حياة يوسف وأسرته في الماضي وذكرياته الجميلة التي لا يريد أن يتخلى عنها. إلا أن حياة معظم أفراد أسرته انتهت بهجرتهم وتفرقهم في مختلف الدول. وتسرد كذلك الأحداث التي مرت بها مها منذ بداية القصف على بغداد مع غزو الكويت وخوفها الشديد وهي في حضن أمها من أصوات القصف داخل خندق انتهاءً بموت يوسف في حادث إرهابي داخل كنيسة النجاة بينما هي ملقاة على الأرض في حالة رعب عارم لا تعرف مصيرها المحتوم أو مصير يوسف.

تركتني هذه الرواية مع عدة تساؤلات:
·         هل فعلاً الفتن الطائفية جميعها هي في الأصل لعبة سياسة؟ أم إنها موجودة فعلاً في أعماق مجتمعنا تغذيها بعض الأطراف الجاهلة وتظهر على السطح في غياب الدولة القوية؟

·         كيف أقنع مها بأن ما يفعله الآخرين لا يمط للإسلام بصلة؟ إن هؤلاء المتطرفين والرافضين لاختلاف الآخرين لا يمثلون الإسلام والمسلمين الحقيقين مطلقًا.

·         هل يوسف مثل والداي الذين يرون أن الأمور في بلدي ليس بالعسيرة وإنها سحابة غيم وستمر؟ هل مها مثل أختي التي أصبحت في حالة اكتئاب لا تشعر بالأمل والأمان وتخشى على أبنائها في كل خطوة يخطونها خارج البيت؟ ترى هل يوسف ومها ووالداي وأختي على طرفي النقيض تمامًا وليس منهم من ينظر للأمور بشكل محايد؟ ولكن كيف أطلب منهم أن ينظروا للأمور بشكل محايد وهم يعايشون كل شيء يحدث على أرض الواقع؟ لا يحق لي أن أطلب منهم أن يتجردوا من تجربتهم الشخصية لينظروا للأمور بشكل محايد.

·         هل سيأتي اليوم علي وأكون أنا يوسف وأبناء أخوتي وأبنائي هم مها؟

 مقتبسات من الرواية:
·         هل أهرب فعلاً من الحاضر إلى ملجأ الماضي، كما اتهمتني هي؟ وما العيب في ذلك، حتى لو كان صحيحًا، إذا كان الحاضر مفخخًا ومليئًا بالانفجارات والقتل والبشاعة؟ ربما كان الماضي مثل حديقة البيت التي أحبها وأعتني بها كما لو كانت أبنتي. أهرب إليها من ضجيج الدنيا وبشاعتها. إنها فردوسي في قلب الجحيم أو "منطقة الحكم الذاتي" كما أسميها أحيانًا. سأدافع عنها لأنها، هي والبيت، آخر ما تبقى لي.

·         فكرت بصمت من تحت دموعي: أتراه تعب مني؟ لم يعد يقول الكثير، لم يعد يقول أي شيء، حين يفيض الحزن أو تنفجر أعصابي، يعانقني بصمت وهذا ما أفضله، فالصمت أرحم. سمعت دموعي وحدها تتكلم بصوت عال في ظلام الغرفة. كيف لا يتعب وقد تعبت أنا نفسي من حمل كل هذا الحزن على ظهر قلبي؟ لكنه لن يقول شيء مهما تعب، لأنه لا يريد أن يجرحني.

·         لم أكن مهتمًا كثيرًا باختلاف الطرق التي يسلكها البشر إلى الله. فالطريق بحد ذاته لم يضمن طهارة أولئك الذين يمشون عليه. هناك أخيار وأشرار يملئون الطرق كلها وهناك من يظن أن لا طريق إلى الله إلا طريقه هو.

·         "هزي جذع هذه اللحظة...تساقط عليك موتًا سخيًا" مريم العراقية

·         لم أكن مستعدة للتخلي عن السدادات. اكتشفت أن الحياة اليومية تصبح أكثر رحمة، وأقل عنفًا وعبثًا، عندما تشبه مشاهد الأفلام الصامتة. لكن حتى صوت شهيقي وزفيري كان يؤرقني أحيانًا وأنا أحاول النوم. كنت أتمنى لو تسكت رئتاي ويكف قلبي عن الدمدمة.

·         تختلط البدايات والنهايات. كل يبكي على عراقه السعيد.

·         كل ما أريده هو أن أعيش في مكان أكون فيه مثل الآخرين. أمشي وأخرج وأدخل ولا يشار إلي أو يتم تذكيري بأني مختلفة.

·         حذرني يوسف أكثر من مرة بأن الهجرة والسكن في بلاد أغلبيتها من المسيحيين لن يكون بلا مشاكل وصعوبات، ولا يعني أنني لن أشعر بأني أقلية هناك أيضًا. قال إنني سأتعرض للعنصرية هناك لأنني عربية.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Freedom Hallucinations

This morning I got up with some hallucinations about freedom and didn’t want to let them go, so I’m capturing and captivating freedom here J

Being a freedom advocate, I love to see it and apply it in everything. But what is freedom and how we know we are free or not. For me freedom is freeing yourself of anything you haven’t chosen. Freedom goes hand in hand with choice.

When we were kids, choices were made for us. We went to school our parents chose for us. We followed a religion we inherited from our parents. We lived with people chosen for us. Every choice was made for us by the older and wiser people.

But when we start growing up, we may or may not question everything chosen for us. We start getting rebellious on everything. We don’t want to listen to wise choices made for us. We want to think and consider ourselves. This is what people call adolescence phase. Parents are always afraid of this phase; which takes place between 10 and 20 of age.

For me my adolescence was different, instead of making my own choices, I was looking for reasons to accept others’ choices for me; knowing that they are the wiser and of course believing in their sincere intentions.  I was a very obedient adolescent.

However, when I got to the higher school phase, I made the first choice in my life. I chose my faculty all of my own. I had no objections from the wisers. However, I put a challenge on myself. The faculty I wanted to join didn’t necessitate a very high score for my higher education certificate. However, I challenged myself to get the highest scores that enable me to join the highest graded faculty. I did it and got the highest degrees, however I chose to leave the 1st and 2nd degree faculties and join the 3rd degree faculty I wanted, regardless of wiser people’s choices for me. I faced many objections. And I felt hey that’s the first decision I’m taking in my life. If I go back to my childhood phase, I would have chosen a different school also.

I don’t see why parents perceive the adolescent phase dangerous. Is it because their offsprings are heading elsewhere? Is it because they might start discovering things and life facts parents don’t want them to discover? Is it about control out of love? They think that they won’t be able to protect their kids from life tides? What is it that makes people freak from the adolescent phase; that instead of becoming their children’s friends they become their enemies? Let your adolescents practice their freedom before their desire for freedom become a stubborn attitude and rejection of anything coming from you even if they know and believe it is the right thing for them. Wake up parents.


People think I’m crazy when I say I would never be able to raise my children on certain beliefs or order them to take certain decisions. I can’t impose anything on them even when they are just kids. I think if they want to play in the streets, I won’t object. I want them to discover themselves, make their own choices even if they later regret them. I want them to choose and make mistakes. I want them to experience freedom of choice in everything to know how to live on their own and face real life tides.

If I talk about the freedom of choosing your religion, which is a taboo in our Arab societies, I would say that I’m a Muslim in mind, heart and soul. However, I’m not a Muslim because I was born a Muslim. I searched for logical answers and found them in Islam. I see logic in everything in Islam. This was the second choice I made. I see a logical explanation in every principal, incident, command, word, etc. in my religion. For me Islam is not any more an inheritance, it is a matter of freedom of choice.

Back to the adolescent phase, do you think we have this phase once in life? Of course not. It is only that the first time you encounter your adolescence, you find everyone interested in interfering with it because you are just a kid. This is the first “So you think you are free?!” phase.

With time, you may start to question everything in life. Have I chosen this job for myself? Have I chosen this position? Have I chosen to be workaholic? Have I chosen to go with my parents' or work bosses' desires? Am I fulfilling people’s expectation of me? Are their expectations mine? Are they part of my own desires? Do I love my job? Do I have a role in life that I chose? Am I the one who chose to be obedient to my parents or this is the social norm that I have to follow? Is this the place I want to be in or it is where I just am? Are all my life conditions imposed on me and I’m just coping or am I the one who chose everything?

I went and still going through this phase at my late twenties and with the start of my thirties. Psychiatrists call it the Thirtieth Crisis as one of my friends told me. I started to question everything and why I’m not satisfied with my stable life. I found out it is not my own life. It is simply what others expect of me. It is just the life that I found myself in. It is an imposed life, not by my parents only this time but by the circumstances of life as well as people’s and society expectations, which I didn’t give myself time to consider or make my own choices about. I realized I have to free MYSELF BY MYSELF to think clearly of what I WANT. I freed myself of people’s expectations, social norms, my attachments, my place, everything that may block my thinking of what I want. I thought about it and realized I need a challenge, as I challenged myself in my first minor adolescence phase.



Then I asked what kind of challenge. If I need a challenge I have to choose it. I chose my challenge which is completely the opposite of my stable life. I asked myself is this what people expect from me? The answer was absolutely NOT. Do I really want it? Absolutely YES. Am I ready to discuss it with people who don’t expect it? Absolutely NOT. Why? Because no one understands me as I understand myself. I want to take the challenge with no guardianship. Do I want to succeed in my challenge? Yes. But what are the success criteria? I’m the one to choose them. What if I fail? So what, I would learn to make better choices. SO WHAT? GO AHEAD. This is my OWN thirtieth adolescence. It came with stronger desire for freedom and release and a realization that freedom is never granted. It is you who make it.

One of things that makes people think I’m crazy is that I don’t have any particular opinion about people. It comes from my belief in freedom. We are free people, each one has to choose his own being. I don’t have the right to say this is right or wrong for anyone, or even have a particular opinion about or judgement on anyone. I’m not him or her. I didn’t practice his or her way of freedom. When people tell me that you have to advise people when they do wrong, I say hey people what is right and what is wrong?! It is us who choose what is right and what is wrong. If only I was asked about my opinion about a situation, I would say in MY OPINION this is wrong or right because I BELIEVE so since I SEE the situation from MY OWN PRESPECTIVE; which in return shouldn’t necessarily be the same perspective of the other person. If he or she takes my perspective it is ok, if not it is ok too. It is HIS or HER OWN freedom of choosing the perspective he or she wants.  That’s it!

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Words that Found Their Way to My Mind, Heart, and Soul

The Bastard of Istanbul by Elif Shafak

Describing the 3 categories of the Turkish societies:
“We are stuck. We are stuck between the East and the West. Between the past and the future......The Modernists tell us to move forward, but we have no faith in their idea of progress. The Traditionalists tell us to move backward, but we do not want to return to their ideal order either. Sandwiched between the two sides, we march two steps forward and one step backward, just like the Ottoman army band did! But we don’t even play an instrument! Where can we possibly escape to? We are not even a minority or an indigenous people under the protection of the UN Charter. Then we could have at least some basic legal rights."


Don't you see that the past is a vicious circle? It is a loop. It sucks us in and makes us run like a hamster on a wheel. Then we start to repeat ourselves, again and again.


"Allah" she sighed. "You are closer to me than my jugular vein. Help me out of this dilemma. Either grant me the bliss of the ignorant or give me the strength to bear the knowledge. Whichever you choose shall make me grateful, but please don't make me powerless and knowledgeable at the same time"

I wonder why miseries unit ppl while the good don't. How many furnerals you were keen not to miss and how many weddings you had no problem to miss. Solidarity had to be in good and evil. Not in one of them only

"Some among the Armenians in the diaspora would never want the turks to recognize the genocide. If they do, they'll pull the rug out from under our feet and take the strongest bond that unites us. Just like the Turks have been in the habit of denying their wrongdoing, the Arminians have been in the habit of savoring the cocoon of victimhood. Apparently, there are some old habits that need to be changed on both sides"

Family stories intermingle in such a way that what happened generations ago can have an impact on seemingly irrelevant developments of the present day. The past is anything but bygones. If Levent Kazanci hadn't grown up to be such a bitter abusive man, would his only son, Mustafa, have ended up being a different person? If generations ago in 1915, Shushan hadn't been left an orphan, would Asya today still be a bastard?

Life is coincidence, though sometimes it takes a djinni to fathom that.
From the Last Page in the Bastard of Istanbul
"There is such things as collective hysteriya....It is a scientifically known fact that collectivities are capable of manipulating their individual members' beliefs, thoughts, and even bodily reactions. You keep hearing a certain story over and over again, and the next thing you know you have internalized the narrative. From that moment on it ceases to be someone else's story. It is not even a story anymore, but reality, YOUR REALITY"


For One More Day by Mitch Albom
"what causes an echo?" she once quizzed me. the persistence of sound after the source has stopped. "when can you hear an echo?" when it's quiet and other sounds are absorbed. when it's quiet, i can hear my mother's echo still."

Sometimes people are physically gone but they keep persisting like an echo inside of us




Thanks for the Memories for Cecelia Ahern
There is something unnerving about being forced to look at yourself when you are unwilling to come in terms with something. Something raw and real that you can't run away from. You can lie to yourself, to your mind and in your mind all the time but when you look yourself in the face, well you know that you're lying. I'm not OK. That I did not hide from myself, and the truth of it stared me in the face.
Felt by Joyce when forced to see her reflection in the mirror by the hairdresser


My hairdresser hands me my ponytail.
"Souvenir"
"I don't want it." I refuse to take my hair in my hands. Every inch of that hair was from a moment that has now gone. Thoughts, wishes, hopes, desires, dreams that are no longer. I want a new start. Anew head of hair.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

فرحة لا توصف

فرحة غريبة تملكتني الغد ومازالت مستمرة معي حتى اليوم بعد حديث مع إحدى صديقاتي التي تعرفت عليها مؤخرًا في دبي
اسمها إيما كندية الجنسية مسلمة الديانة بتكلم عربي مصري لبلب:
أنا: ممكن أسألك سؤال من باب الفضول ولم مش عايزة تجاوبي براحتك؟
إيما: أسألي
أنا: أنتي أسلمتي أذاي. أصلي ما اعتقدش أنك أسلمتي بس علشان جوزك مسلم. واضح أنك واحدة بتفكر كويس ومش بتاخد المسائل دي كده.
إيما: الحكاية إن أهلي ملهومش دين وربوني أنا وأخويا من غير دين خالص. لكن لما كان عندي 12 سنة حسيت أنه أكيد في ربنا خلق كل ده
وكان السؤال في هذه الحالة طاب أي دين؟ أي رب؟
كان ليا أصحاب مسحيين متدينين رحت معاهم الكنيسة كذا مرة
وكان لينا جيران بهائيين مصريين وفي مرة قال لي الأب فكري في معجزة الخلق أزاي جنين يتكون ويكون That Perfect بالصدفة
عندنا في كندا المتدينين متزمتين قوي وديمًا الناس بتتريق عليهم .... ما هو يإما متدينين مقفولين عن الحياة... يإما ناس بايظة جدًا وملهاش أي دين ولا Something to believe in
بس برضو لم اتبع المسيحية أو البهائية... في حاجات ما كنتش مقتنعة بيها logically

بعدين قابلت جوزي في الجامعة...أسمه إسلام متفتح واجتماعي ومرح وفي نفس الوقت متدين وطيب وبيصلي وبيصوم وبيتكلم بفخر عن دينه And What he believes in
فلاحظت أد إيه ممكن يكون في Balance between the two things: Life and Religionحاجة كده وسط

على فكرة هوه عمره ما حاول يطلب مني أو يخليني أسلم
اللي حصل بعد كده أني كنت بروح أحضر خطبة الجمعة بالإنجليزي في كندا
وبدأت أقارن
في الكنيسة الخطبة حوالي ساعتين لكن خطبة الجمعة 20 دقيقة وما كنتش متعبة زي الكنيسة
الناس في الكنيسة لازم يلبسوا Formal ويقعدوا على كراسي لكن في خطبة الجمعة الناس كلها زي بعض لابسين اللي يريحهم وقاعدين على الأرض
في المسيحية لازم يكون في Minister بيني وبين ربنا في الإسلام لأ أنا مني لربنا على طول
كمان ما اقتنعتش أبدًا إن ربنا ثالوث أكيد هو واحد
المهم إني أعدت سنة أحضر خطبة الجمعة وأقرأ وأصلي وأصوم من غير ما أكون مسلمة

وبعدين رحت The Islamic Institute in Canada علشان أشهر إسلامي وقابلت المسؤولة عن ال Institute وكانت كندية أسلمت واتعلمت الدين كويس أشهرت إسلامي وهي ساعدتني أعرف أكتر كمان



إحساسي بالفرحة بعد هذا الحوار لا يوصف
رغم اقتناعي بكل الكلام ده سعدت جدًا لأني سمعته من واحدة اختارت الإسلام دينًا بالمنطق والعقل والاجتهاد الشخصي واستخدمت كلمات ومفاهيم من الدين بتلقائية

كمان عجبني جدًا إن جوزها كان وجهة مشرفة ومعتدلة للدين بأخلاقة وتصرفاته مش بالكلام

وحسيت قوي بمعنى "يهدي من يشاء"... إيما هي التي أشاءت أن تعرف الحق وربنا هداها

آخر كلامي ليها كان أنا مش بس فرحانة بيكي أنا فرحانة ليكي ربنا يكرمك ويحميكي

السعادة اللي أنا فيها عارمة جدًا وعلى ووشي ابتسامة غير طبيعية وعندي انشراحة قلب لا توصف

يا رب أهدي عبيدك جميعًا


Friday, September 2, 2011

The Upside of Anger....Anger in its Deepest Manifestations


Anger…Why do I get angry?.....Am I that much hurt?.....Am I aware of all the facts that drive me angry?....Am I justified for inflecting my anger on others?.....Am I forcing others to support me?....Am I striving on my loved ones’ support?....Am I inflecting my anger on them?....Am I poisoning their lives?....Am I changing to a shrew?....Am I giving up my wisdom and caring nature for anger?....Do I deserve a slap to wake me up from my anger?....OR Is it ok to release my anger so that I can calm down?

The Story
 
The movie “Upside of Anger” revolves around all these questions. It is the story of Terry Wolfmeyer; a housewife with four daughters. She is consumed with anger over her husband who mysteriously abandoned his family. Terry believes he left to Sweden with his young Swedish secretary. Terry’s solution to her heartbreak is in absolute anger and burying all her sorrows and self-pity in her glass of vodka.
She has problem with each of her daughters: “Four girls? One that hates me, two or three that are leaning that way.” Hadely is the eldest. She is a fresh college graduate who decided to marry her boyfriend with whom she was involved for three years without her mother’s slightest knowledge. Andy refuses to go to college and instead she is seeking a job as a reporter against her mother’s will. Emily is the dreamer who wants to be a ballet dancer and applying for the college of arts. In her mothers’ opinion this is no serious education. The youngest is Popeye, a 15 year old, who was never taken seriously either by her mum or sisters “You are child..What do you know”. However, she is the most mature of them all and she holds the moral of the movie.
Terry has a neighbor; Denny the former baseball player. Just like Terry he is desperate. He used to admire her. He is a sport Shaw presenter who doesn’t want to talk baseball. When her husband deserted her, Denny came to her support. He started as just a drinking partner then he developed real feelings and care for Terry and her daughters

My life is falling apart…I expect some compassion from you
In seeking her daughters’ support, Terry gives them no choice. She angrily demands their consideration and compassion. While her daughters were preparing dinner for her, she said furiously “My life is falling apart…I expect some compassion from you”
She doesn’t even give them the choice whether to hate their father or to look for explanation from his side. She decided not to call him or let them do. She even unconsciously obliges her daughters to hate him to show her consideration and support. She once told them in despair:
Terry: I’m a wreck.
Emily: I hate his guts. I hate his guts for what he he’s done.
Terry: Oh. He is a pig, your dad. Just a vile, selfish, horrible pig, but you know what? I’m not gonna to trash him to his girls.
Andy and Emily hug their mother.
Andy: I hate him too.
Emily: I hate him so much.
Terry: I know you do, baby. You’re human. How could you not? When your eyes were open wide.

Actually she doesn’t know anything. The daughters have confused feelings towards their father. They need explanations. They want to call him to know what happened but they can’t so as not to hurt Terry. They don’t hate him but they say they do for her. Emily once wrote him a letter and was afraid it might be mean. In a moment of truth, she even told her mother when she was ill; she needs her father to know saying “I don’t hate him, I know that you do, I just thought of it and I think that I don’t”. For this, the girls started to be angry with their mother. Popeye comments on her mother’s state saying:
“My mother was always the nicest person I ever knew. She was the nicest, sweetest woman than anyone who knew her ever knew. Then things changed...then she changed. She got angry. Good and angry.  Anger has turned my mother into a very sad and bitter woman. If she wasn't my mother, I'd slap her. I would. I'd look her straight in the face and tell her what I really think of her...and then I'd run really fast in the opposite direction.

I hate the way I come off to my girls. I just hate that I can’t control my emotions

With agony, pain, and anger, Terry deals with her daughters’ problems. She is losing her wisdom and farsightedness.  Being angry with Hadely for keeping her love relation from her, Terry embarrassed her before her mother and father-in-laws and her fiance:
Terry: She was so loved from the minute she was born. Just an adorable little thing. She was...well, she grew up too fast didn't she?  She grew up so fast and had a mouth on her.
Hadely: Mother!
Terry:  When she was in her teens she was her own little boss.
Hadely: Mother!
Terry: And she would sometimes just not come home
Hadely: All right, could we just toast, please? Thank you.
Commenting on this situation, Terry told Denny “I hate the way I come off to my girls. I just hate that I can’t control my emotions”.
With Emily, she gave her dream the cold shoulder. She criticized her for joining the College of Arts instead of being proud of her.
Emily: Be proud! Shit! You know? I'm focused! What is your problem? The only thing you're focused on is drinking and Denny! Be glad that I have a dream!
The irony is that Terry doesn’t find the College of Arts a serious one, while she herself wanted to be a poet. However, her parents pushed her to marry and abandon her dream. She is obsessed by anger and controlling her daughters’ future, rather than thinking clearly. She can’t find a wiser way to dissuade her daughters or give them good pieces of advice. Rather, she puts them in embarrassing situations or causes them depression by killing their own dreams. Terry just couldn’t control her feelings of resenting Emily’s dream to the extent that started to undermine her daughter’s self-esteem.
Emily: I wish you would take me seriously.
Terry: Honey, I take you seriously. I just don't think you have much capacity for self-evaluation.
Emily: You know, you'd think you'd be happy for me...considering the way your life turned out. The way your parents pushed you...
Terry: To marry your father? Yeah. I'm not complaining. They pushed me to take life seriously...not to live in the clouds.
Emily: Do you have any idea what an idiot you sound like sometimes?
Terry: I love how you worry that the letter you sent to the parent who deserted you is too mean, and yet, to the one who's here in the fight, you have no problem saying the most vile things. Isn't that a tad odd?
It is obvious that Terry’s obsession with “serious” college education for all her girls lies in her wish to prove to herself before anybody else that she can make her daughters better off without the father who deserted them.

You just don’t seem to care all that much about me, unless, like now, I’m sick

For this anger to calm down, Terry got three slaps ranging from in strength from the weakest to the strongest. The first slap came when Emily got sick with stomach ache and was admitted to hospital. At first the doctors thought it might be stomach cancer. They ran necessary test and it was discovered that her pains are caused by physiological stress. Terry was devastated over this.
Emily: I’m not stressed
Terry: Yes, you are. You are mad at me. Mad at your Daddy. I can see that all the time. You’ve got a cloud over your head….You need to get better, Emily. I can take a lot, but I couldn’t take losing you.
Emily smiles
Terry: Why is that funny?
Emily: Because you just don’t seem to care all that much about me, unless, like now, I’m sick.
Terry: That’s not true. That’s just not true. I adore you.
Emily: I don’t see that.
Terry: Well, what can I say? You are like everyone else in my life you need to pay closer attention to me.
Terry is highly consumed by her anger and indulgence in self-pity that she can’t show care and love for her daughters in their everyday life. She is getting estranged from them and that’s the first realization she gets from the first slap.

I am so sick of being your bitch

The second slap was when Denny left Terry. Denny is such a loveable person. He loves Terry and her daughters. He believed in Adeny’s talents and helped her find her dream job. He cared for Emily and tried to give her emotional support in her dancing dream. He acted as father with Popeye; accompanying her in a trip with her boyfriend and his father. Denny found in this relationship his new life. In his Shaw he doesn’t want to talk about the past “baseball”. He is looking forward for the future in Terry’s “family”.
Denny: When I'm with you, Terry...with your girls...I feel like there's a big chunk of my life still left to be played out. And that's what I want to talk about, not... baseball.
And above all this he was extremely tolerant with Terry’s anger fits and humiliating actions. She used to kick him every now and then out of her home. Popeye one day asked Denny if he would marry her mother. When Denny brought up Popeye’s question to Terry, she called this a “Cheap Shot” saying:
Terry: I have had enough problems right now, Denny. I don’t need you using my daughter as a pawn..I don’t want to get into something silly…like a cute talk about a marriage…that we both know would be doomed from the start….I don’t want to hear what Popeye said, no
Terry slammed the bathroom door after her
Getting extremely angry and fed up with Terry’s humiliations, Denny broke the bathroom door and shouted at Terry very furiously that she got really scared saying:
Denny: I am so sick of being your bitch. I put up with your shit, because I know how much pain you're in. But it's enough! It's a tall order for a patient lover, and I am the farthest thing from that that you're ever gonna lay eyes on.
Denny faced Terry’s anger with an outrage. He has had it with her shrewdness and can’t take it anymore. Following this situation, Terry started to realize how mean she was to Denny...How supportive he was...How much he cares for her without any kind of obligation...How much she really needs him. She called him many times to apologize but he either hang up or didn’t answer at all. Meanwhile, she started to control her anger and calm down. She decided to quit drinking. She even became nicer with Hadely and Emily. Andy was always her own head. She was never affected by her mother’s refusal for her way of life or even argue about it.
Later when Denny calmed down he came back to Terry. The first thing they did with the girls was to attend a ballet Shaw. While watching the Shaw, Terry imagined Emily dancing in it. She looked at her daughter who was sitting beside Denny and smiled to her nodding in acceptance for her daughter’s dancing dream.
Before coming to the last and strongest slap of all, we see Popeye commenting on how people love People don't know how to love. They bite rather than kiss, and they slap rather than stroke. Maybe it's because they realize how easy it is for love to go bad, to become suddenly impossible...unworkable, an exercise in futility. So they avoid it and seek solace in angst and fear and aggression, which are always there and readily available. Or maybe sometimes...they just don't have all the facts.

The only upside to anger, then...is the person you become

The last slap was a hitting fact that hit Terry, her family, and the audience. While working on the farm at the backyard of Terry’s house, a worker stumbled into an old water well. He found a dead body in the well and called Denny. They found a jacket and a wallet for Terry’s long lost husband. He didn’t desert her or the girls; he just fell into the well and died. He remained there for Three years. Terry couldn’t believe it until she saw it herself. All her life-poisoning anger, resentment, agony, despair, shrewdness were simply unjustified.
At the funeral, we see Terry reminiscing about her girls through their childhood till they grew up. She started to accept the fact that they are grown-ups and to realize the hurt she caused them with her unjustified anger. She takes them in an embrace as if she is apologizing and giving them the love and care they needed the most. At the end of the movie, we see airs of acceptance and love between the girls, Terry, and Denny.
Popeye ends the story saying Anger and resentment can stop you in your tracks. That's what I know now. It needs nothing to burn but the air and the life that it swallows and smothers. It's real, though the fury, even when it isn't. It can change you... turn you...mold you and shape you into someone you're not. The only upside to anger, then...is the person you become... Good job....hopefully someone that wakes up one day and realizes they're not afraid of its journey, someone that knows that the truth is, at best, a partially told story. That anger, like growth, comes in spurts and fits and in its wake, leaves a new chance at acceptance and the promise of calm. Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.