Mariam's World: English writings of my own (Poetry, thoughts, etc..)

Names

Tue, 26 Dec 2006 16:29:22 GMT

What is in one’s name?

Something like trademarks or something like magic?

Something in the soul, something in the character or something that is totally independent of both?

The name they call you, your mom, your dad, your friends, your family, everybody. gently spoken, harshly spoken, it is always you.

When I wanted to name my space I couldn’t find a “good” name. Then I chose Mariam’s world since I had to choose something. Mariam was for me the easy part, don't know why, even though I know there are hundreds and thousands if not millions of "Mariam"s in the world. For me, I guess everybody feels this way towards his name, I am a different Mariam, and my name is a different name. "world" was much harder, and till now am not really convinced it was the right choice, but now what is done is done.

Well, if a space’s name is as hard, what about a real person’s name. Put it another way:

Here is a person, please name him/her.

Imm… The first thing is I will say is please I need to know more about him. How old is he, what is his job, how does he look, is he nice, ugly, tall, short, fat, thin, happy, sad, strong, weak, sick, enthusiastic, depressed, his hobbies, and then maybe, maybe I might get him a name that fits him and that he might like. Then I wonder how all these people in the world are named, when they are just born, or even before. How hard is that, but how come their names fit them properly.

Is it names that make people, or people are who make lasting impressions about their names?

Think about it, if you had a different name, would you have been different, and by how much?

The "who cares" diaries part two, totally different, but who cares??!

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 12:19:41 GMT

well, i don't know how good is this title, but I couldn't find a better one.

"It was Eid" was the original title in my mind, but then I said I had two previous entries about eid in arabic (eid = feast). So I just looked at my previous entry and i said I'll simply name it, the "who cares" diaries part 2, anyways, who cares for titles when content is good enough. "who cares" is actually good enough for anything, any topic, (though am not going to go with this simple excuse forever :) ).

The situation here is still as it was. No new, and today I wrote my aljazeeratalk report about beirut, soon I'll post the link when it is published, but here I thought I would write about something totally different. Enough is said about the situation. This is the original entry I wanted to write:

Whenever I recall those who have left our world, I just can’t ignore one specific period of my life when my grandfather died and two of my “grand-uncles” almost in the same few weeks. Later it was eid (feast). Strange moments when all these so happy and so sad times occur at the same time, mixed feelings and unique experiences of same events that have way different effects.

What’s death, What’s life … Well, All what I can say now is pray for the peace of their souls, and since am not really keeping up with my blog, I thought why not put this short story that I have wrote then when they died, for my creative writing class.

May you all have a nice and blessed life, with those whom you love and care for, family friends, and all. Even when death brings you apart, may you meet in a happier afterlife.

It Was Eid

“Mariam, you know that khalo Abdosh (uncle, Abdosh is the name they call him) is a fisherman?”

“Yes, do you know him?”

“Mummy told me yesterday. Can I go fishing with him?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask him.”

“Tayeb let’s ask him. I know how to fish. In Canada I went fishing with khalo Basem.”

“We’ll ask him if we can go with him on Friday, since you don’t have school. Ok?”

“Yay, Yay, yes we will. I’ll go tell mummy. Tomorrow is Friday?”

“No, tomorrow is Thursday. After Thursday comes Friday.”

“Mariam, I like fishing. Khalo Abdosh is like Khalo Kamal?”

“Yes. Almost. But he is older. You know that Khalo Kamal is also a fisherman?”

“But I want to go with Khalo Abdosh. Mummy said he always gets us fish.”

“Tayeb Insha’allah we will. Mummy will call him now and we’ll go on Friday.”

“A deal?”

“A deal.”

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

Moh’d woke me up early. “Mariam, yalla (comeon) today we’ll go fishing.” I woke up and dressed as quickly as I could. All the time Moh’d was asking me to hurry, till we reached the old building located by the Hamra Mosque. I expected Khalo Abdosh to be waiting for us downstairs, but he wasn’t. We had to go up the stairs to the fifth floor. It was just my second visit to him in my whole life. I remembered the messed up room I saw the first time I was here. The clothes were hung in the middle of the room. Empty water containers were spread all over the house. An old bed in the corner, and nothing more. We knocked on the door but nobody opened. I thought maybe he was at Khalo Kamal’s house so I went back with Moh’d to the first floor where Khalo Kamal lives. Khalo Kamal told us that Khalo Abdosh went to throw out the garbage and buy some eggs, and that he would be back soon, so we waited till noon, but he didn’t come.

“Maybe he is visiting someone. Sallim alih, (greet him)” I told Khalo Kamal.

I took Moh’d’s hand and we went back home.

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

“ Al-Bakiya Bi-Hayatkom” (the rest is in your lives, usually said here in funerals)

We arranged the chairs in my grandfather’s house. Men were busy arranging the burial process. My grandfather’s six sisters and four brothers were there. My aunts and uncles were also there. Everybody was busy. Dad came from the hospital. He told us that they would not bring the body to the house because my grandfather’s sisters are all old and sick. Women started to arrive by 8 am. My grandfather’s family is very big. Serve the coffee. Serve the Maamoul. Get some more chairs. Men went to pray the “Salat al-mayyit” at the Hamra Mosque. The mosque was crowded. My grandfather’s body was covered with a green cloth. A red fez was put over it indicating the location of the head. My dad led the prayers. When they finished, dad and Ammo Ziad carried my grandfather, and the procession went to the place where my grandfather would be put to his eternal rest. Khalo Fouad and Khalo Abdosh both were not at the funeral. Khalo Fouad was in his store by the Mosque. He asked the crowds “whose funeral is this?” and the answer came back quick and shocking “Al-Hajj Jamil.” Khalo Fouad was traumatized “Yesterday I visited him. He didn’t look mawwit (dying).” The voice replied again from the crowd. “He showed no signs of death. It happened all of a sudden. Nobody knew he was going to die.”

“Yes, you knew he was going to die. You all knew but you didn’t tell us. Why? He is my grandfather.” I cried hysterically and looked at my mom. She didn’t know what to say. She was also crying. “He went without me telling him goodbye. Now I only have one grandfather and one grandmother.”

Then a qur’anic voice was heard coming from the street. That indicated the arrival of the memorial service car. All the women went to the balcony. It was the last time I was seeing my grandfather. I could hear the cries. The balcony was very crowded; I couldn’t see my mom but I heard her saying “Sallimli ala Hiba” (my eldest sister who died many eyars ago). “Sallimli ala Abdosh,” cried my grandmother. The car was almost moving when my aunt appeared behind it. She was doing her best to reach the car before it moved. She reached the car and kissed the coffin. I just cried as I watched the memorial service car moving away from my place on the balcony. Serve the coffee. Serve the Maamoul. Get some more chairs.

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

I looked at the white paper pasted on the door of our building. There were actually two papers. The first one announced the death of Jamil Abed Al-Hafiz Itani while the second was for Abed Al-Wahhab Shehab (al-Rayyis). Khalo Abdosh died that same day when I went with Moh’d to see him. He went to buy the eggs and throw the garbage out, but he didn’t come back. The garbage truck ran over him and he died. My family had to live through the deaths of two of its members in just three days.

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

We rode in the car and went to the graveyard where we met my aunts, uncles, and my cousins. It was four days after the death of my grandfather. We were doing the traditional graveyard visit of “Fakk al-Wihda” _breaking the loneliness_. We put some green plants on my grandfather’s grave, read some quran, and then we went back to my grandfather’s home while the men went to the mosque. The Hamra Mosque was crowded also that day, and at my grandfather’s house we were also busy. Serve the coffee. Serve the Maamoul. Get some more chairs. It was eid. (feast)

The "who cares" diaries

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 18:01:32 GMT

sometimes when I write in my blog, i feel like am ignoring my country's own problems. I talked once about iraq, about palestine, but I never talked about lebanon.

Well ... my problem is that I don't know what to write about Lebanon. The only thing I can say is that I love Lebanon, I love the ppl here, the streets, everything, but I hate the politics, that is apparently going to ruin everything (i hope not) ...

Thats why, even today with all the news to write, and all the rumors saying that my country is in a very complicated and unknown stage, and nobody knows what whether we are going to a worse situation or a better one, I feel like writing about sthg else.

Yesterday, was the ending of the meeting of international union of muslim scholars, and I said why not go, maybe I will meet some of them for Al-Jazeeratalk.

You know, though am a practicing muslim, I am rarely fascinated by an actual Muslim group, but this time I have to say that I was really glad and honoured to go there. I listened to the final statement of the meeting, and then I met with some of them. I am not going to write details of the meetings, and what they talked, for I did the report, and you can read it here.

however, I want to say that what really fascinated me, is the whole idea behind this union. It has scholars from all muslim groups, sunnis, shiites, and all, and from almost all world countires. They are not the kind of scholars you feel like they come out of history, but they are educated ppl, understanding, and when they talked to us they welcomed us, and they talked so humbly. the bosnian in his "a-bit-weird" arabic accent, described to us islam in europe, and how many europeans are now turning to islam, and learning about it more, so we better muslims turn to it and learn about it, away from what some extremists (qaeda or bush administration) are trying to teach about it, and then the sudani inviting us to visit sudan and asking us to learn more about sudan and help the sudani ppl with giving it our attention, and not to think of sudani ppl as poor uneducated ppl, because sudan now is improving and it has really achieved many things, and the iraqi talking to us about his experience in iraq and life, issues we didn't ask him about, but he thought we should all know and consider, the saudi with an un-arguable (does this wod exist? :s ) concepts, about our current challenges as muslims, and about the issues other ppl usually ask us about as muslims such as the muslim state question and do we really have to establish a muslim state, and about muslims dialogue with others and .. and ... and ...

even those whom we didn't talk to in depth, were as nice and touching.

Scholars from various countries and regions, discussing muslim issues in all countries and regions, subjectively, trying to help improve the situation everywhere, just then, just there, I remembered a feeling that I really missed since I was in mecca, the feeling that we muslims, are brothers and have brothers all round the globe.

N.B. what is the difference between brothers in humanity and brothers in Islam?

from my side, am always willing to do my best for both. from the other side, I can't gurantee any thing from both :), but maybe at least the fact that me and the muslim share something much more in common, which is Islam.

Beirut Baghdad Monitor

Fri, 10 Nov 2006 09:39:11 GMT

Few years ago, and directly after the American occupation to Iraq, my sociology professor then suggested starting a website, named Beirut Baghdad Monitor.

You know days passed by, the site was established by a group of students, including me. We used to highlight daily American practices that violate sometimes even basic and simple well-known rights and statements in the Geneva conventions.

Now, quite few years passed by. The website stopped, and I wonder where are the others, but whenever I watch or read the news, I regret that at some point in time, we, including me gave up … We gave up giving them, some few minutes of our daily program, just to keep the world aware that they are still suffering.

I doubt that one web page would be enough for describing only one day misery of the Iraqi’s people, to describe the death of only one innocent kid, woman, man … One hunger, One injury, One kid deprived of shelter, of going to school, of having electricity and light, of having enough heating for the winter cold, of having a mother, a father, a family, a country … I doubt that, but I am quite sure that at least for me, we should give them more attention, more “minutes”, more space on our webs, in our prayers, in our issues, or only more words …..

Am writing this now, hoping that maybe with the arrival of Democrats, things might change, maybe, and I do hope and pray they do, but how?

Chinese inventions

Wed, 04 Oct 2006 08:08:37 GMT

Yesterday my uncle came back from China. He goes there very frequently, since he works in trade and he registered in a chinese university especially for foreigners to learn chinese.

During his first few trips, he used to come and tell us all about the strange habits, stuff, and inventions they have. Their culture, their food, their daily routines. Then, he used to tell us less and less of these stories. Nonetheless, there was always sthg new to say.

This time, he brought us three strange things. The first thing is this umbrella, that I have seen before somewhere on the net on a chinese head. It is different when you see it on your little brother's head or on your own head. :).

The second thing is the dragon's eye fruit (also in the picture). Actually this is the first time I see this fruit. Maybe am not very knowledgeable about fruits and vegetables, but I am sure this thing never grows here in our land ! Well, we didn't have the courage yet to taste them :).

Third is chinese vegetable cake. it looks strange from outside, but it is even stranger from inside. My mom and two other sisters tasted it. I hesitated doing so and when I saw its inside I decided I will not taste it. I think this cake simply justifies the reason why my uncle whenever he returns from china, he returns slimmer.

Have a nice day,

Mariam

Blogging ... when and what ...

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 10:43:20 GMT

When someone asks me, why i hadn't updated my blog for the last few weeks, I give him my usual "no time" excuse and I ask him in return, if there is anything to write about and I didn't...

Then finally, today, I realized that a blog entry shouldn't necessarily be an article. It can be just few words. I also realized, that it is true we are always tempted to write about "big" things and impressions in our life, simply because they affect us. Nonetheless, there are millions of small things that do affect us, make us happier, sadder, better or worse. that we don't write about.

One of these things, is whenever you ask me about my blog. Then I know that you are reading and feel so blessed. You care for me, and I care too. That is why am writing.

I will try to write more often. long, short, big things, small things, no matter what, but I will try always to make sense.

Take Care all and have a nice day.

Mariam

Balck Dots - graduation scribes

Tue, 27 Jun 2006 16:09:16 GMT

Black Dots

graduation scribes

We were hundreds, thousands, all dressed in black. Some had orange strips, some yellow, some green, but everyone had this overwhelming black and the black cap.

Standing by me, and waiting till the commencment starts, my friend said: "I feel I am a black dot."

I told her: "me too. Two black dots"

Actually, we were all black dots, and when that moment came, the black dots were sprinkled in a long line, moving slowly through that door to the hall where all the parents, families and friends were waiting.

O'black dots, I have always dreamed of being there with you, and here I am!
O'black dots, What do you feel? just as me, or different? Does a dot feel?
O'black dots, today you are sprinkled in this nice line, then arranged in rows, but tommorrow how will you be sprinkled?
O'black dots, draw the borders, color in between, and settle. Make the future, Engrave the hope in everybody's heart and mind!
O'black dots, you know destiny? Will I become a huge ball, a thin line, or a tiny dot? will I be flashy, sparkling, bright. dark, gloomy, broken, or scratched ?
          I hope I can know,
          I hope the road isn't as long,
          the future seems so hard,
         with no friends with me along.
O'black dots, let me roll with you in life, encapsulate me with the days, life and experience but don't take away my pleasures: love, knowledge and faith.
O'black dots, shall we ever meet again?
          meet after scatter,
          recognize and gather,
          Shall we? I pray
          that we will one day.

          black dots now leave
          black dots now go
           with them I leave
          to where? yet I don't know ....

Congrats All ....
I am sure we are much more than "black dots" :).

Israelis Again ...

Sun, 28 May 2006 14:58:30 GMT

A usual Sunday, except that tommorrow I have my final year project presentation. We didn't go to Bekaa unlike every weekend. Thanks God we didn't. I don't know whether you heard about the Israeli bombings inBekaa They also bombed on Na3ima. Wherever they bomb. I should no more care about my land since nobody else is caring except about their own sakes. I guess now someone will appear on TV and start saying how crucial is his army for protecting lebanon, and then someone will start talking about the arms inside the palestinian camps and god knows where. Stupid Lebanese Politics .... & A very cute lifestyle, no?

Definitely I didn't leave my homework and assignments to write a blog entry about lebanese politics that are fairly well discussed by millions every second. Actually, I was motivated by the bombing on Bekaa. It took me back to old memories, about nine years ago. Then they bombed the same place, near a village called "lucy" that is few kilometers away from our village. I was right there with my grandfather. In bekaa, we didn't have drinking water supply, and we used to go to "lucy" to get drinking water every other day or two. At that moment we were there. Only me and grandfather in the car and we were at the end of the village, approaching that plain mounatin full of bushes and sole sand.

I told grandpa: "What is this sound?" and looked at the sky. I saw the airplanes. They were never as low as this. We were used to Israeli airplanes passing over our home momentarily often going towards northern bekaa, but here and as low as this? I can almost see the plane clearly. It was a bit bent (curve-shaped). They were four actually. My gradnfather said: "So, they are going to bomb or what?"

The answer directly came.Two bombs. I saw two metallic things going down to earth. A huge sound. The car jumped to the other side of the road, and I can almost see nothing. I can't even tell whether there was immediate smoke or fire or what. I can only remember myself clitching to my granfather and telling him "please let us go home. please and now."

He said: "we should watch."

I told him "no, please no. let us go."

I was totally thrilled and terrified. I never saw or lived a "live" bombing unlike my grandfather who has experienced two long civil wars. We turned and went back the way home. Here my mind came back to me. I can recall the people all standing on the roofs of their houses. Some with cameras, some with video cameras. All cars were going towards the bombing place except us. We were moving away. When we reached home, I can see a big mountain of grey smoke that lasted all day long. All the family was waiting. "What happened to you? And where were you?.." I was pale. they took me and gave me water to drink and calm down. Then my tears finally came out and I cried. I was about eleven years old only, so maybe it is ok to cry, no? It is not an easy thing. I had nightmares and bad dreams for more than a month. I wonder how palestinians and iraqis live their whole lives with bombs all around. God be with them.

I should end now. Few days after, we went and checked the bombing place. I had the courage to go with them. It was a plain black burned mountain. I thought all this ended with the libeartion of south lebanon, but unfortunately seems we should always expect some 'surprises'. Israelis = Perfect neighbours = News headlines should change often!

First Blog Entry

Wed, 24 May 2006 08:41:50 GMT

Ok ...

I think I should write something. I hate the idea of having an empty web space.

But what should I write? Recently I have consumed up all my words in writing our final year project report :).

Well, it was quite lengthy. I mean the report.

I am really lost what to write here, but I should write. What to write?

My profile says all the things about me. Am 21 years old, lebanese, muslim, and a girl :).

I will soon graduate with a computer and communications engineering degree. And am not yet decided what to do next. In my spare time, (now history :) ), I used to read, write, play tennis,basketball or football, or draw and engrave on mirrors.

Actually writing is my passion. I don't know why now I am not able to write anything here :S. Soon I will hopefully post some of my poems, articles and stories here.

Soon but not now!

I don't think they suit a "First Blog Entry". A first blog entry should be nothing but just like this long boring introduction :).

Have A Nice Day,

Mariam