A flower a day

My friends and ‘blog fans’ (they are less than 7 but please allow me to gloat about the fact that I have people who I can call fans of my writing!!!) have been continuously sending me messages regarding the blog’s sleeping mode. I must confess, first two weeks of university have been kind of hectic and third year is just starting to sink in, but that is not the only reason I haven’t blogged. Whenever I open a new white sheet to type my words and produce a text that may or may not be read, I write a couple of words, but then delete everything and close the tab. Why? I don’t know why really. Maybe because on a personal level I really have nothing left to say to anyone in my life and I am just waiting for that experience that will change me 180 degrees, or maybe because death is our current theme. Whatever newspaper I open, whatever media platform I decide to browse, there it is, as bold as it could be, a news piece about how 200 young men had to be murdered because of their belief, or how 180,000 human beings had to walk through another country for hours to find safety……you know the list. So what could I possibly write to make it better? there is no ‘let us sugar coat this’ or ‘put a cherry on top of that’ to cover the horrendous crimes that are attacking the human race. Therefore, who am I to sit behind a computer screen and start typing away about the misery of the world? That is why, today, I decided to blog about something different, something my own eyes saw, admired and wished it upon you, the globe, and I.

I entered a small grocery store the other day, it was late on a Friday afternoon. An old man entered and looked around. He started checking out the bouquets of flowers at the door comparing the price tags and counting the coins he had with him. Out of no where, the employee said: there is a bouquet which is about to die out, you can take it for no charge. The old man’s smile widened and he quickly accepted with an appreciative bow to the young employee. As he left, I went to the cashier and he started saying: “I’ve been working here for 3 years now, and this man comes every afternoon to buy flowers, if he only has a 10p on him, he’ll buy a flower, just one. Once, my curiosity asked him why he wants to buy this non-essential item when he is clearly struggling financially. He gave me this silent look, I thought I was rude and so quickly turned around, but then as he paid for the bouquet, he said: I’ve been married for 40 years, she has been sick for the last 10 of them, but not once have I entered without the smell of a fresh flower in my hand. I don’t want her to think that because she is sick she is not worthy of it. She is. She is my whole life and like this flower, if I have no money, I would do what I can to get it, that’s it, I would do what I can for her, even if I don’t have a lot to offer. These flowers are my way of saying ‘I will never give up on you'”

I don’t know how life was and is for that man and his wife, but from that very short story, I can tell that these flowers have spoken on behalf of his loving heart!

May you all be granted someone who would give you a flower a day to keep misery away, even if it is just for one minute.

سلام يا بلدي

You probably heard about the theory of relativity; if a man sat with a pretty girl he likes, an hour feels like one minute, but if he sits on a hot stove then a minute feels like an hour. Well, Jordan has been the person I’m in love with, the place where I can spend 10 years but feel like it has been a second, and the only shoulder I can confidently rely on when I lose my strength. My 4 months of summer is over, and in a week I depart to start my third year of Law School. I said I’d write a blogpost the day before I leave, but tonight, I don’t know why, but it felt that I should just put my thoughts into words. 

This time, Jordan was different. This time, I saw somethings I never noticed before (or they were not that obvious), this time I saw some gaps in our country. Gaps that need to be filled before it’s too late and the ground below us open wide for us to be swallowed inside. I saw refugees coming from all over the Middle East. I saw Syrians walking on foot to just cross the border for some reassurance, I saw Palestinians coming to get treatment after the recent attacks on Gaza, I saw Iraqis looking for a place to shelter them and avoid being slaughtered. I saw it all. I saw the sadness, the frustration, the anger, but then I saw the look of relief, even if for a minute, those people were relieved they were finally, despite having NOTHING at all, at a place they can take a long breath without the fear of a bomb falling above them, a knife slitting their throats or their women being taken to be raped. Jordan to them was like a sigh of relief. Here, I asked myself, till when will we remain the safest haven in the area? till when will we be known for our moderate minds and hospitable borders? ALWAYS AND FOREVER is what I keep telling myself, INSSHALLAH, my Jordan will remain safe, glorious and happy. I pray for one thing, I pray that I come back in December and I have the option of visiting Baghdad, and Jerusalem, and Beirut, and Damascus..etc. I pray that my country is not the only safe haven in the area, but that every other country is, too. 

My eyes swell as I write this; they become the fastest factory to produce tears. I will miss you my Jordan, my beautiful Amman, the morning walks, the crazy driving, the HONKING when the traffic lights is still red, the smiling policemen, the helpful old man behind the supermarket counter, the books I bought from the street, the 1 JD DVDS, the slow dreadful internet speed, the fights with line provider companies about where my credit went, the smooth summer breeze, the shining sun, the midnight ice cream, the ‘we don’t line up in queues’ places, Abu khamis manakeesh, the family gatherings around mansaf, and my tetas’ food, smiles, and laughs. I will miss it all. From the North, to the South, to the West, to the East, I will miss  you Jordan. 

أرجو من كل قلبي و أصلي بعمق و إيمان شديد أن تبقى يا أردن سالماً منعماً غانماً مكرماً..أن تبقى بلدي و علمك مرفوع شامخ في سماء الوطن. لا استطيع أن اتحمل فراقك، فكيف إذا سمعت أنك تتألم أو أن عاصفة الإرهاب قد سحبتك معها؟ من أجل روحي التي اضحيها من أجلك، لا تسقط.

شعبك يحبك، جيشك يحميك، لن أتركك، و عودتي قريبة إن شاء الله 

سلام، سلام يا بلدي يا حبيبي.