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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
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Tapping at my chamber door



« Home | Emile, a newly found definition » | Refrain from comment - قانا » | Mon parfait être » | Why stop at Cairo? » | Ravings of fallen gladiators » | The world went spinning, the sun stood still... » | Silently, I blogged... » | The other side of My Majesty » | Burn baby, burn... 'tis all good!! » | Where is the rope? »

الذل


Make me your
Hollywood star. Seduce me into a Hugh Hefner. Believe my politically annulled findings. Kiss my ass like it actually means something, leads somewhere. Take me lower. I wish to have a beautiful home and peace for my children. Take me lower and grace me with your godly presence. Humiliate me. I want to live.

I'm begging for you to respect me. I beg for food and water. I beg for shelter. I beg for a happy home. I beg for you not to kill my children. I beg... until there's nothing else left to do really. I even beg to differ... and then I begged some more.

Take me lower.

It seems like the inevitable answer to everybody's fears and doubts: To get married, have a beautiful set of children and live your life setting an example for them; to grow them like sunflowers in a field of love for their religion, to be in love with their own country. You grow old setting that example then you finally realize that you can't even see that example in your own self, in your own mirror reflection. The water ain't flowing anymore. Well, today's the day when the world's standing still, waiting for your decision. When your kids grow old with their straight shot belief in God and religion, with their Buddhist understandings about life and light, their post graduate degree in science and their love for their humble pyramid, their patriot selfless love for their own home and country... How would they feel when they grow to be all that and then open their eyes on a full moon night in absolute clarity and find that their religion and their country, the things and notions you've raised them into believing in and loving have been understood to be nothing but a joke in the eyes of the world, a terrorist-friendly culture, human form in its most tragic picture. How would you feel when your son's 12 and he asks you 'Dad why do I feel so low and small? Why do my friends at school call me Osama?'

Humiliation seems like the god given answer to everything these days. We keep saying that we'll never be big enough to fight back the bullies at school, the big bad wolves; that we'll never have enough artillery, enough money and power, enough "world support".... enough vetoes. We keep hiding in the shadow of a dark angel, crouching lower and lower to the ground, hoping to lie in our own built grave, not to be seen, not to be judged. We fear annihilation. We want a happy home where my son can be called by his given name.

It's about time we make the stand, break out and cut loose. We need to walk with our heads up high and proud. Pride is not an ultimatum. It exists out there for the taking. Pride is not a privilege or a blessing. It is the one answer out of 100 which isn't about money.

(و أعدوا لهم ما استطعتم من قوة و من رباط الخيل ترهبون بها عدو الله)

That's what I've always believed, but will we never have enough power to fight back for what can only be described as "our basic right to exist". We will never be strong enough, statistically. Doing nothing is always the easier choice, the more rational. However, I would for once like to stand up tall and proud of my people, race, and religion, look them in the eyes and say 'I'm proud of being who I am'. How selfish would it be of me to raise my children in such an environment if people like me, like you, who actually can make a difference but stood still... and did nothing. Why would your son, your dream of a nation's hero, be any different? How do you know for sure that he's not going to grow up to be the same coward little shit his daddy is. You can grow many beautiful concepts and beliefs inside your children. They can be the best out there... but what'll happen when they realize that the year 2006 marked the end of pride and respect for the things they've so fallen in love with. What'll happen to them when they feel the need to hide their identity and change their names just in order for them to proceed with their lives, to have kids of their own? Skepticism and humiliation seem inevitable from where I'm standing now, I see nothing but that. The sun'll shine no more and my sunflowers will go dry.

This, out there, is the fight for our own existence. It's BE PROUD now or never. We will never be prepared, but... right now? We have absolutely nothing to lose. If we lose the war then at least we fought for what seems to be basic, for what your father and your father's father have been preaching about along the years. We win... we survive. It's a win-win situation. It just needs people to believe that it's more like a world cup final, sudden death, with the cup staring still, asking you to take it home. In this case, we don't want the cup... we only want to live proud, we demand our football field. They were right. This is the new Middle East, at least in my own eyes.

Then of course comes the inevitable conclusive question... What are we going to do about it? You can't go and fight by yourself, you'd be killed. How "by myself" am I really? My little rage child is planning his baptism into the world.

Leaders are born every second, but only a few of them can see. Take my hand, lead me, and I would follow you anywhere.

كفاية ذل

eedi 3ala ketfak.
Lead the way.

wonderful
horrifying truth comes under you fingers
aching thoughts your mind produces
numbness shall be our name

Yeah well, if you roam in a blogosphere you can't expect to see something significant or mind trembling. All we have is words for now... words that I pray would make a difference in someone else's attitude or mentality or even persuit in life.. even if i won't be made aware of that affection.

I just write.. and you just read.. i don't expect much and you shouldn't either.

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