The Alien from Neptune

We always say “As a human being you should sympathise with people around you and offer them comfort.” OK! That's great! We always say that assuming that the human being is the most civilised creature. But.. what if.. only if.. there was a better choice?

Every human being is the centre of his/her own universe. It's absolutely normal. That doesn't mean they are “self-centred”. What determines selfishness and its vice is the distance from the centre at which you place people and whether you see them in full dimensions; not just a moving bulk of flesh and blood but a container of memories, thought, hope, frustration, love and fear, and a significant creation of God that has its glow and its flaw.

If Aicha is in trouble and Enas wishes to help her, Enas starts asking herself: 

“Has ENAS done enough for AICHA?” 

“Has ENAS made AICHA feel any better?” 

“Has ENAS been a supportive friend to AICHA?”

Awww! That's very sweet and generous of Enas!

NO! It's NOT!

Notice that the name ENAS appears each time before AICHA. Why? Actually, her name should not appear at all! In most cases, even if AICHA does not feel any better, ENAS does not work any harder because ENAS's goal was to “show” support so she does that and even if the results are not favourable, she just stops there. This is about AICHA so ENAS should forget about herself a little.. and this is finally where I get to my point..

What if I -also known as Enas- forget that I'm a human being with full existence and imagine that I am... emmm... an alien from Neptune and that I'm a mere observer of the human condition. All my experience and my human connections serve only as a database of advice that I will use as an alien while trying to comfort my 'human' friend with minimum reference to me, my life, my sorrows, my ANYTHING. I, ME and MY are forbidden to be spoken.. or even thought of!

This will require so much patience. You cannot try this when you're tired, hungry, in a bad mood or when the weather's hot. Aliens don't like summer!

Perfectionist and impossible to apply in real life? Maybe, but I'll have fun trying. Imagining to be a alien from Neptune can never be boring.

I don't claim to be a perfect friend. Frankly, my friends are being extra patient with me and my behaviour all the time [ thank you guys <3 ]. But we all just want to make life easier for each other. :)

The Lady In the Shoe

Written on the 4th of March





There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth, without any bread,
Whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed.
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I laughed out loud when I first came across this nursery rhyme. Even though it conveys absolute misery, I laughed, because it's untrue. I know that this person with this suffering does not actually exist.

But wait a minute! This person does exist. SURPRISE! (I feel very proud of myself when I'm able to steal your smile away.)

This person does exist. Actually, there are millions of her. People who watch Amro El Leithy's 'One of the People' [wa7ed mn el nas واحد من الناس] program know it very well. Let's analyse each word...


Old woman:
probably unable to take care of herself or her kids and probably unable to work because of her age.

Shoe:
a small dark smelly place with no electricity, no water and no drainage.

So many children:
that in itself isn't a problem but when associated with poverty and ignorance, it's a disaster. Plus the word "so" gives extra sensation of trouble.

Didn't know what to do:
completely helpless, especially since there's no mention of the husband. He might be dead, imprisoned or at some dirty dump where junkies and drug addicts meet. I'm just guessing!

Without any bread:
that's pretty clear! They will sleep hungry..

Whipped them all soundly:
clear child abuse that is ALWAYS associated with ignorance that leads to drastic psychological impacts on the children who will grow up into insecure unbalanced adults and take it out all on their children. The circle of life!

*********************************************

So this supposed-to-be merry nursery rhyme talks about some 40% of the Egyptian population. Meanwhile, the media is talking about Parliament Rockstar Bakry, Parliament Badboy ElOleimy, police officers who want to grow beards and what Sawiris thinks of it and presedential candidates who are bla bla bla-ing all day. Believe it or not, the MP who said that English should be forbidden takes more attention than Amr Khaled who is trying to educate 50,000 illiterates. SubhanAllah ya Akhi! The more important issues like the old woman in the shoe are like dessert to the media: said very quickly in the beginning or the end. (Take a deep breath..)

*********************************************

May Allah's Mercy befall the hungry, the cold and the sleepless.
May His Mercy (SWT) befall the innocent people of Syria.
May His Mercy (SWT) befall the imprisoned in Palestine.
May His Mercy (SWT) befall us all..


حسبنا الله و نعم الوكيل

The Cement Tree

The green branches of the high trees linked together like crossed hands and allowed the sunlight to penetrate magically and swiftly between their fingers. Those thin rays of light tickled the small particles that danced in the air like glitter after a girls' party. Then the glitter fell on the arched back of an old young man. Old young man? The little spectators of the forest had a debate. The squirrels saw he was old; look at the sluggish movement of his feet and hear the loud wheezing sound of his breathing. The birds defended; he was weak but not old. His face was tired but not wrinkled. He might have seen much pain but not many years.

That weak spine carried a huge heavy cloth bag and struggled with it through the forest until he reached a stream running beside a little clearance where the spring sun shone brightly, at last. He placed the bag down and sat breathlessly beside it. He was surprised by the coolness of the soil, which made him spring into action. He opened the cloth bag and took out a metal container. He piled some cement into it from inside the bag also and approached the stream and did his work of magic. He was a sculptor, or at least he was supposed to be.

He worked for hours and hours, taking very few, very short breaks in between just to wash his face and quench his thirst. The night fell and the stars decorated the dark sky. Beautiful! The stars, the trees, the birds, the crickets, they are there all the time, but we do not seem to notice them unless we're told that it's the last time. He sighed loudly when he remembered the doctor's prophecy that the old young man wouldn't be alive when summer arrives, at most.

This went on for around a week. The birds wondered: how can a young man be so skilful?! The squirrels wondered: How can an old man be able to persevere all these days alone in the forest?! And they both Oohed and Aahed when they saw the amazing work of art. A cement tree! Cement branches with cement leaves with carved veins. He made a hole that crossed the diameter of the trunk and as the spring breeze oozed through it and played a magical tune like a sound from heaven.

He carved some sentences all around the trunk.
“Hopefully, you will be having a relaxing break from the hectic life out there and will be lured by the cement flute in here to find me laying dead. Don't panic! Don't worry! Just bury me here. Make this cement tree my cemetery. I never feared leaving. I feared not leaving a mark before I leave. There it stands; my mark, my fulfilment, my work of art, my passion that I was born with but only dared to carry out when I was about to die. I might have lived like all people do but I died differently. You still have a chance to “live” differently. Don't leave this clearance before the night falls and have a little conversation with the stars. They miss you. They will change your life. This tree knows no seasons. It will stand and sing all year long. Peace.”