I need a break, a vacation to some sort of isolated island just for a couple of weeks. I need to lay on a sandy beach all day. I don't want to hear my name being called for some time. I want to reflect on myself in solitude where nobody asks me what is wrong with me.
I need to swim in a deep blue sea, hoping that the waves sweeps away my depression, my shyness and my idealism. I want my tears to mix with the sea water and become part of the universe.
I want to sleep under the sun rays, wishing that they melt away my sadness, my confusion and my pain. I want the sun to evaporate the sea water containing my tears and turn them to clouds.
I need to keep staring at the sky all night, talking to the moon and asking him to enlighten my soul, my thoughts and my heart.
I want to keep watching the clouds moving, knowing that my tears are part of them. I want the cloud holding my tears to to keep moving upwards till it reaches Heaven and then one Angel touches this cloud and blow some heveanly joy that mixes with my tears.
I wish that the cloud with my tears keeps floating in space for a while, releasing all the sadness and pain in my tears. I wish this cloud finally stops right over my head in a dark gloomy winter night and starts raining, replacing my tears of pain with tears of joy.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
City of Angels
I was robbed twice in one month!!
It's not like somebody has pointed a gun to my head, it's not my bag, my purse or my mobile phone that was stolen, its my food!! Yes my food was stolen twice at the office. First time my toast and chicken lancheon and second it was my brown beans sandwich.
I know its not a big deal, but the idealist residing in my mind still considers it a robbery. Someone opens the refrigerator (the company's refregirator in which all employees keep their stuff), takes some food (which he/she knows for sure it is not his/her food) and eats it does not sound normal to me.
I started acting like Lieutenant Columbo (which I usually do whenever I get the chance) and began to analyze the robbery and search for suspects. But since all my colleagues at the office are known to be good, religious people I got puzzled and could not accuse anyone of stealing my food.
Then I started to ask myself if being religious means that one should have ethics and morals that prevent one from stealing. But according to my case the answer was No.
Then I started to look at the bigger picture and realized that what happened at the office is just a sample of what is happening all around me. I look at the mosques and churches all round me and find them crowded with people as If I live in the "City of Angels". Then I read the newspapers or watch TV and feel shocked with all the briberies, roberries, rapes and domestic violence commited everyday. If I live in the "City of Angels" then who comit these crimes everyday?
I have reached the conclusion that religion is no more responsible for setting people's moral standards. But this conclusion made me ask myself some questions; If religion no more shapes people's values and ethics then what's the use of religion? What's the point behind reading the holy books if people never practice what they read? Are people aware that being religious and being good can not be separated?
Wikipedia defines religion as follows:
The term "religion" refers to both the personal practices related to communal faith and to group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction.
I guess this is not the case in our society nowadays; people ignore the "personal practices related to communal faith" part and only concentrate on the "group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction", which resulted in a society of pretenders.
I don't know whose fault is this, but I guess our society is suffering and will suffer a lot from such pretenders; those who have limited religion to some rituals, those who have separated religion from our daily life, those who take religion as a camouflage to hide their evil doings.
It's not like somebody has pointed a gun to my head, it's not my bag, my purse or my mobile phone that was stolen, its my food!! Yes my food was stolen twice at the office. First time my toast and chicken lancheon and second it was my brown beans sandwich.
I know its not a big deal, but the idealist residing in my mind still considers it a robbery. Someone opens the refrigerator (the company's refregirator in which all employees keep their stuff), takes some food (which he/she knows for sure it is not his/her food) and eats it does not sound normal to me.
I started acting like Lieutenant Columbo (which I usually do whenever I get the chance) and began to analyze the robbery and search for suspects. But since all my colleagues at the office are known to be good, religious people I got puzzled and could not accuse anyone of stealing my food.
Then I started to ask myself if being religious means that one should have ethics and morals that prevent one from stealing. But according to my case the answer was No.
Then I started to look at the bigger picture and realized that what happened at the office is just a sample of what is happening all around me. I look at the mosques and churches all round me and find them crowded with people as If I live in the "City of Angels". Then I read the newspapers or watch TV and feel shocked with all the briberies, roberries, rapes and domestic violence commited everyday. If I live in the "City of Angels" then who comit these crimes everyday?
I have reached the conclusion that religion is no more responsible for setting people's moral standards. But this conclusion made me ask myself some questions; If religion no more shapes people's values and ethics then what's the use of religion? What's the point behind reading the holy books if people never practice what they read? Are people aware that being religious and being good can not be separated?
Wikipedia defines religion as follows:
The term "religion" refers to both the personal practices related to communal faith and to group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction.
I guess this is not the case in our society nowadays; people ignore the "personal practices related to communal faith" part and only concentrate on the "group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction", which resulted in a society of pretenders.
I don't know whose fault is this, but I guess our society is suffering and will suffer a lot from such pretenders; those who have limited religion to some rituals, those who have separated religion from our daily life, those who take religion as a camouflage to hide their evil doings.
Monday, March 10, 2008
I know I madly love him when...
... I hear his footsteps outside the door and hurry to open the door for him before he rings the bell.
... when he introduces me to a friend of his then lovingly wraps his arm around me and I feel so special to him.
... when he is asked "Would you like a nescafe?" and he answers "Only if Sue will make it for me" and I feel flattered.
... when I'm wearing a new outfit and he looks at me saying "Eih el 7alawa dy" (Look at you, you look gorgeous) and his nice words make my day.
... when I make him a lemonade on a very hot day and he drinks it and tells me "Shokran Captain" (Thanks Captain).
... he pretends to be angry with me when I don't say hello and give him a kiss once he enters the house and when I go kiss him he forgets all about it.
... I see a tear in his eye and then one nanosecond later I start crying just for seeing this precious tear in his eye.
... when he tells me that the first time we went out together alone was when I was two months old.
... when I get mad at something and then he tells me "ana 3aref enty tal3a zarboona le meen" (I know where you got your bad temper).
... when I have a bad dream that something bad happened to him and I wake up with tears in my eyes.
Happy Birthday Daddy, I wish you know how much I madly love you.
... when he introduces me to a friend of his then lovingly wraps his arm around me and I feel so special to him.
... when he is asked "Would you like a nescafe?" and he answers "Only if Sue will make it for me" and I feel flattered.
... when I'm wearing a new outfit and he looks at me saying "Eih el 7alawa dy" (Look at you, you look gorgeous) and his nice words make my day.
... when I make him a lemonade on a very hot day and he drinks it and tells me "Shokran Captain" (Thanks Captain).
... he pretends to be angry with me when I don't say hello and give him a kiss once he enters the house and when I go kiss him he forgets all about it.
... I see a tear in his eye and then one nanosecond later I start crying just for seeing this precious tear in his eye.
... when he tells me that the first time we went out together alone was when I was two months old.
... when I get mad at something and then he tells me "ana 3aref enty tal3a zarboona le meen" (I know where you got your bad temper).
... when I have a bad dream that something bad happened to him and I wake up with tears in my eyes.
Happy Birthday Daddy, I wish you know how much I madly love you.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
An old piece of writing
Years ago when I was sixteen years old, on my back home from a physics tutor, a woman waved to the taxi I was riding. The taxi driver pulled over and the woman told him where she wanted to go and he said okay. The woman had two kids; a boy and a baby girl and the three sat beside me at the back seat. She was very pretty, and her kids were so cute, she started playing with her baby girl and I learned that the girl's name was Jessica (Jessica is a name that I've adored for many years and kept telling everybody that if I'll ever have a baby girl I'll call her Jessica). After I went home I wrote thes few lines:
She was sitting beside me
And her two kids with her
I was sitting next to her
With my few books with me
Her kids were so nice
Her daughter smiled to me twice
I saw my future in the woman's eyes
She saw in me her past days
I wished I would become a mother
She wished she would return a student
She was sitting beside me
And her two kids with her
I was sitting next to her
With my few books with me
Her kids were so nice
Her daughter smiled to me twice
I saw my future in the woman's eyes
She saw in me her past days
I wished I would become a mother
She wished she would return a student
Friday, February 22, 2008
Love and Life
Last Thursday was Valentine's Day on which people act as if it is the only day they are allowed to express their feelings to their sweethearts.
I recieved this story a few months ago and I dedicate it to all those who have limited the meaning of love to a bunch of flowers and a present wrapped in red.
LOVE & LIFE
This story tells us something about LOVE & LIFE.
My husband is S/W Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.
Two years of courtship and now, five years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.
I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings. I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband is my complete opposite; his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about LOVE.
One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.
"Why? " he asked, shocked.
"I am tired. There are no reasons for everything in the world !" I answered.
He kept silent the whole night, seemingly in deep thought. My feeling of disappointment only increased. Here was a man who was not able to even express his predicament, so what else could I expect from him?
And finally he asked me: "What can I do to change your mind?"
Somebody said it right... It's hard to change a person's personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him.
Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered: "Here is the question. If you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind.
Let's say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death. Will you do it for me?"
He said: " I will give you your answer tomorrow...." My hopes just sank by listening to his response.
I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes....
My dear, "I would not pick that flower for you, but....please allow me to explain the reasons further..... This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.
"When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs,and you cry in front of the screen. I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs.
You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you.
You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city. I have to save my eyes to show you the way.
You always have the cramps whenever your "good friend" approaches every month. I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.
You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom.
You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes. I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand...and tell you the colour of flowers, just like the colour of the glow on your young face...
Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do ... I could not pick that flower yet, and die ... "
My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting... And as I continue on reading... "Now, that you have finished reading my answer, and if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk...
I rushed to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread....Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone...
That's LIFE, and LOVE.
When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness.
Love shows up in all forms; even in very small and cheeky forms. It has never been a model. It could be the dullest and most boring form ...
Flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands... AND THAT'S LIFE
Who said S/W Engineers are geeks?!!
I recieved this story a few months ago and I dedicate it to all those who have limited the meaning of love to a bunch of flowers and a present wrapped in red.
LOVE & LIFE
This story tells us something about LOVE & LIFE.
My husband is S/W Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.
Two years of courtship and now, five years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.
I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings. I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband is my complete opposite; his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about LOVE.
One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.
"Why? " he asked, shocked.
"I am tired. There are no reasons for everything in the world !" I answered.
He kept silent the whole night, seemingly in deep thought. My feeling of disappointment only increased. Here was a man who was not able to even express his predicament, so what else could I expect from him?
And finally he asked me: "What can I do to change your mind?"
Somebody said it right... It's hard to change a person's personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him.
Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered: "Here is the question. If you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind.
Let's say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death. Will you do it for me?"
He said: " I will give you your answer tomorrow...." My hopes just sank by listening to his response.
I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes....
My dear, "I would not pick that flower for you, but....please allow me to explain the reasons further..... This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.
"When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs,and you cry in front of the screen. I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs.
You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you.
You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city. I have to save my eyes to show you the way.
You always have the cramps whenever your "good friend" approaches every month. I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.
You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom.
You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes. I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand...and tell you the colour of flowers, just like the colour of the glow on your young face...
Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do ... I could not pick that flower yet, and die ... "
My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting... And as I continue on reading... "Now, that you have finished reading my answer, and if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk...
I rushed to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread....Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone...
That's LIFE, and LOVE.
When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness.
Love shows up in all forms; even in very small and cheeky forms. It has never been a model. It could be the dullest and most boring form ...
Flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands... AND THAT'S LIFE
Who said S/W Engineers are geeks?!!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Could this be a good advice?!!!!
“I would say even if he’s not the love of your life, make sure he’s someone you respect intellectually, makes you laugh, appreciates you … I bet there are plenty of these men in the older, overweight, and bald category (which they all eventually become anyway).”
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