I have to start this post by apologizing to everyone who came..knocked and found no answer, as I've been "Internet-less" by choice for more than a month.
I've been to Amman, and when a lover meets his loved one, the whole world seizes to exist..this is probably an extremely lame comment you might think, and I might agree..to an extent, but sometimes..you tend to want to be alone with a city, a whole city..with all her details corresponding with your own details; she notices the new grey hairs you didn't have when you left her and went West, and you notice..yet again, her drought, the very same drought you thought you knew before you left, the very same drought you wanted not to find when you went back; the drought of souls is even more painful than that of minds, minds can be revived, souls..are as delicate as the strings of a harp, and the sound they make is either tender like a choir of angels or they never give more than a hollow vibration into space..an empty hiss.
There's a book called طبائع الإستبداد "The Manners of Dictatorship" by an enlightened Arab called Abdul Rahman Al Kawakibi, and if I could borrow the title..and a little bit more, I'd describe Amman as a ruthless dictator, one losing her charisma, her appeal, her tender smile, and yet..her subjects remain loyal and drunken with her love, even when her only remaining appeal is her name, even if she is made to wear a million masks upon another million masks, even if her soul is barren..her people are in transit, looking and feeling like strangers..to her, and to their own selves.
She remains the Queen, and now that she's left..East, as I left West, she is missed, and her smile; the one I didn't find when I went to see her, endures.
يمـوتُ الهــوى منــّي إذا ما لقـيتُها
ويحيا إذا فارقتـُـها فيعــودُ
اول شـي و لـو متـأخـرة، كـل عيـد و أنـت بخيـر ، ينعـاد عليـك بـالصحـة و السـلامـة و راحـة البـال وايـام أحلـى
ReplyDeleteTotally understandable..We preserve our memories of what our 'Home" looked like before we left it in our minds..Unfortunately we go back to find it all different but we remain loyal..
I usually come back feeling like a starving person who was craving something and ended up eating something else and stays hungry and searching ..
Welcome back ya Ammar,you were missed :)
wo inti bkheir ya noura..thanks.
ReplyDeleteits weird how we charge our minds with pictures of a perfect homeland, despite our knowledge of its errors and shortcommings, but seeing those errors first hand is a disappointment to the irrationality we entertain ourselves with while we're away.
Ammar
ReplyDeleteGlad to see you are back to blogging.
As usual I get lost in the words and feelings of your posts, more than I think on the topic of what you are writing. great as usual!
I was recently in Beirut, and I was talking to hubby about the souls of the cities, and then stopped to think what can I say about Amman that I adore, did not yet come up with my final say, but was very pleased to read what you wrote.
Tamara,
ReplyDeleteThanks..glad to be back, cities do have souls, some cities have souls made of gold, others out of blood, but the worse are those made out of dates..like the ancient gods of the arabs..when they got hungry they ate their gods..and we, seem to have gone back in time and are making the same mistake.
Ammar, glad to see you back and contemplating aloud so we can glean from your thoughts. :)
ReplyDeleteya hala b kinzi, thanks for the great compliment, glad to be back :)
ReplyDeleteyaaah.. ya Ammar.. zaman 3an kalamak wallah..zamaaan..
ReplyDeleteFull of warmth and love as usual..
Sho biddi a7ki aktar men welcome back :) nawwarat wallah!
Bi wjodek ya Life, Thanks :)
ReplyDeletesimply beautiful...
ReplyDeleteThanks Gardenia..glad you liked it.
ReplyDeletetears in my eyes...
ReplyDelete