Stillness

What time will I go to sleep tonight oh mighty neighbor of mine? In your hands lie the time, duration and quality of rest I get every night . What language do you understand if not the tamed civilized dialect, the blunt say-it-as it-is, the primitive hand gesture tap on the wall, for hell I even tried the indirect tell the landlord but nothing gets to you! How dare you violate my sleep, steal away my dreams, suck away my energy you monstrous vampire do you ever sleep? I will continue reading “why the Buddha is smiling” while you exorcise sleep out of me but it will no longer affect me I will be looking at you from my place of stillness until you disintegrate and your dominating power shatters to submission in face of my indifference because yes today, I will finally buy some earplugs.

Always choose your battles and when you’ve wasted your energy on a problem so minor in your great scheme of things, don’t fight anymore, just plug your ears and move forward.

Butterflies in Autumn

Butterflies butterflies in my belly
Are you just there for the jelly
The one I had today for lunch
I think you’re not I have a hunch
Tell me tell me how in autumn
No lilies pansies not even saffron
Did you sense my fragrance in the air
Confide in me what scent so rare
Flutter flutter my delirious confusion
Chase away to complete oblivion
Consume my soul a burning pleasure
Your wings protect my secret treasure

Mary Poppins

Today I helped deliver dinner to two houses with hungry people, but I did not plan it, it just happened. I stepped out of my favorite round building that place where I spent most of my 5 years while in Montreal. A witness to many stormy rages of emotions, out of which I had walked out at times smiling and triumphant, at times frustrated and enraged and at times indifferent and ready to give up. But this time it was pouring down, a million racing raindrops and it seemed that although first place was already taken, more raindrops were actually hurrying down did they not know the race was over? Just hang in the clouds and wait for another race just stop for now. My friend was meeting me for a late dinner at Amir’s and was almost there. I did not have an umbrella, the weatherman did not forecast rain and I did not want to carry my annoying “backboneless”umbrella that just bends with every breeze embarrassing me and drenching me just as I entrust her to keep me dry. My mind starts to work quickly should I take the bus, take a cab I’m too broke for a cab the bus goes all the way to the other side, solution? Delivery man was carrying a bag of food, he stepped inside the building handing some nerdy workaholic distorted scientist ( I’m sorry for the insult little guy I’m just projecting my issues on you) anyway should i ask him should i ask him. Hey sir can you take me with you. Sure where are you going. It doesn’t matter as long as I get anywhere closer to my destination. He spoke to me in arabic. He was delivering from Boustan another lebanese restaurant. As he drove I realized he had told me he was heading towards the east side but I had managed to block out that information I just figured getting in the car was my salvation and everything else I would deal with later. After all, Boustan was right next door to Amir. But he had to deliver some orders. I thought about getting out but then a genius idea occurred to me I was too lazy to walk, I needed to rest, I needed to be dropped off, I did not want to walk, I needed rest, I was exhausted and once you sense the comfort of a car in my world where riding in cars was a luxury so rarely experienced, long story short, I had a genius idea. Can I accompany you as you deliver and then you can drop me off at Boustan? He agreed he too was happy about the company. He said I reminded him of his daughter but he said she was a little older, she is 28 but I am 29 but I did not tell him it just felt good to be younger for a second, everyone seems to think I was younger, younger guys hit on me and older guys think I’m too young, oh well i guess it’s not so great to look younger after all but I think it’s my hair cut that’s what my friend said, now it’s short and curly yeah Shirley Temple-like ok well anyway. Delivery man stopped twice he called the guy to come down for his food, the street was undergoing major construction and he could not park but I stayed in the car so he double parked at the corner and went out for a few minutes, we made another stop at St Dominique in a small alley 1701 and then we were off to my destination. He asked me whether my friend was meeting me at Boustan, I replied timidly no at Amir’s. I tried to say oh but we do go to Boustan too it’s real good my friends and I we really like both places and he stopped me saying every restaurant has its clients while thinking maybe you can stop the lies now. We made it back in 15 min just as he promised. Moral of the story: Don’t carry your umbrella next time it rains you might get an easy ride to your destination when you don’t try too hard.

Man does not live by bread only

Yesterday I fasted. I did not eat or drink all day. It is ramadan. But I’m not a moslim. I fasted to share the experience of the fasting moslims who are sharing the fate of the less privileged people. A message of love, of unity, of amalgamation of not only religious significance but of a humane compassionate nature. I ended my fasting with a date and water. Oh, the sweetness of that date, of that day, of the smile i brought to my friend’s face, of the conversations over the iftar dinner , of the oneness, of purity, of sharing this with you.

Hairdo

“I feel pretty oh so pretty
I feel pretty and witty and fine
And i pity any girl who isn’t me tonight”

I feel gorgeous oh so gorgeous
And you’d better be very cautious
When you see me with my brand new hair
It would kill you that wouldn’t be fair

Such a pretty cut such a pretty color
To all other girls i’m a movie of horror
And if only my lovely mirror talks
It would tell about my beautiful locks

My Journey Part 2

As our footsteps marked a trail leading to crucifixion, he asked me to proceed with my story. A mild september breeze carried his words to my heart and blew my hesitation away. And i plunge into my memories again. A vivid vision of cabbie ’s eyes turning towards my little treasure in my lap, my little bag of fruits that my mom had prepared for me in the morning. I had watched her put grapes, pears, apples and although i knew i was not going to eat any of them, i let her do it and i held it dearly along the way until i got to cyprus. Cabbie politely but firmly asked me for grapes i realized he had been eyeing those grapes drooling over them along the way but never had the nerve to ask in Lebanon. As we entered his country, breathing the syrian air sent his confidence sky-rocketing, i handed him some of my grapes relentlessly. A couple of hours later, he decided it was time to rest but none of my cabmates was excited about stopping and cabbie finally admitted that he could not control his hunger anymore and needed to have lunch. We stepped into a small restaurant where he generously offered us refreshing drinks i asked for an orange juice to keep me alert after all i had a long trip ahead of me, then changed my mind and had a mixed fruit juice, it tasted a lot like black berry, i never really liked black berries before, i was a little girl with a big basket under a big tree at my grandparents’ house in the mountains bringing the basket slightly closer to my mom who was swaying from top of the black berry (“toot”) tree picking up the berries, my arms reaching out to her while my body curving as far away as possible to avoid the unforgiving red stains and whining about why it was me not my brothers who had to do this tough job. I savored my juice thankfully. Cabbie ordered some meat with onions and tomatoes that came in an old crooked pan. I stole a glance down at his meal twitching my lip wondering how it tasted like. He caught me looking, picked up a piece of bread with his unwashed fingers that had been rubbing against the old rubber car wheel for quite some time gathering various strains of germs. He made a conscious effort to gather a sample of everything in his pan and handed it to me. I gulped it instantly, unforgettable taste, praying that if any bacteria had participated and survived the war of grinding, saliva, antibody and acid attacks, it would have the decency to wait a few days until i was in montreal for payback. As i reached damascus airport, i bid cabbie goodbye but before we parted he managed to ensure a potential business deal the next time “no no don’t misunderstand me,” he said, “i hope beirut airport will be open next time you’re here, but just in case, call me.” I had not purchased my ticket to cyprus, i was tormented by having to fly that sunday night 11pm to cyprus and spend over 27 hours in cyprus airport waiting for my tuesday 3am flight to prague, i did not have a visa to enter larnaca and for that reason i had to suffer. After giving up on trying to find a flight with a more reasonable waiting time, i decided to buy my ticket. I already had a reservation but as the agent asked me whether i had paid, i could not lie yet tried my final weapon, smiling sweetly, “ no i haven’t paid yet but could it be that i don’t have to”, he smiled back and for a second i sensed victory, my heart skipped a beat it’s like these little guys pumping blood in my heart stopped to give me two thumbs up. My smile withered as i saw him turn to his ticket booklet asking his colleague about the price. I entered the waiting room, i was driven to a lonely bench on the side probably by his energy probably by a higher power watching over me but there he was my first guardian angel. I spoke to him he was a young lebanese guy a few years younger than myself. Our paths were converging for these two days, he too, was going on the same journey to montreal. He was calm and serene, i was loud and restless. His acceptance of the 27hrs waiting time in cyprus and the fact that another person, faced with this same time problem, thought about it and decided it was not the biggest deal, calmed my anxiety immensely and his constant peace along the way caught up with me infecting me soothing my fretfulness, making me believe i could do it, earning him my guardian angel title.
Cyprus airport, i looked around. The light was very violet almost blinding but i had to be alert, no reasonably comfortable bench in sight, only the cold metal, lifeless skeletons, i was longing for the warmth, i had to act. I decided to try and get in although i did not have a visa, it was impossible to get one in lebanon, the embassy had stopped accepting applications after the situation had deteriorated. The officer said no. i paused for a second, a million scenarios playing in my head, i’m trying to sleep in the airport 3, 4, 5 ,6... how many hours will it be before i start losing my mind, no sleep no rest checking my luggage checking potential thieves... another voice another officer flew by at that moment to inform about my problem, my second guardian angel? His fingers figured their way through my passport and he smiled as he saw my visa to czech republic. It was still valid for a day and for that reason he was letting me in for a day, a special case, due to the unfortunate circumstances paralyzing my country. I was ecstatic.