Thoughts for a month,

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Since yesterday I have been thinking about what I should write. I kept gathering thoughts throughout the day. Everything was written in my head; I will say this and this and that.

But by the time I reached home, I was tired to the extent that I was sitting in front of TV not because I was watching something, but rather because I didn’t have the slightest ability to do anything else, even sleeping..

Summer is awful, and summer plus work is unbearable. Already you are exhausted by the hot weather and humidity. Add to that if you are taking a course or having lots of errands to do.
I pity my friend who just got married the day before yesterday. She must have lived a nightmare before the wedding day.

Today, its Sunday morning. I began to like Sunday mornings because of the hour or two I have alone in the house. (May be that’s the only good thing about having Saturday and Sunday as your weekend..!).
Opened the shuffle and listened to ‘my music’ ..
It’s been time..

*~*~*

Remember when I said I want to pursue my French? Alright, yesterday was my first French exam in CCFC. I did unexpectedly well. In addition to that, finished the first 6 chapters in the first French novel I’d read “Le petit prince”.
Something to feel proud of and refreshed ;)

Every time I go to the course’s sessions, I end up with faith even stronger that the first recipe for a happy life is.. “Live life learning, and you’ll never grow old”..

Don’t fall into the well of believing you have nothing else to know about life, nothing else to give and that’s enough. Go find something to learn, anything, cooking or astronomy. Its life! No longer a boring university with five or ten subjects to choose from; but a wide campus with lots of ‘humanity’ and ‘little numbers’..

*~*~*

After listening to Randy’s Last lecture, I asked my mother about what I wished to be when I was young. (It’s a pity that I forgot everything about my childhood. As if years of education have erased my identity.) So she told me, “you once wanted to become a math teacher, and once a painter”.. few hours later she added, “and in your prep years, you wished to become a writer , then in secondary you wished to be an announcer..”..
By then, I didn’t remember anything about being a teacher or a painter. Not even a writer. But now I can tell.. Suddenly I recalled everything very well.

Painter?!
I used to draw when I was young. My arts teacher, Mrs. Azza used to motivate me always to persue drawing. Always a 10/10, and also nominated me for a scholarship like for painting (somewhere I don’t remember). I visited the place, and the guy there told my parents that my drawings were very mature compared to my age!
But of course I didn’t take this course. It was during the day, and my parents weren’t able to drive me there every morning, so I left it for somebody else. That was in my 5th primary as I remember. (worth to mention that I took 3rd place in Cairo for a drawing competition. These were the days my friend!).
I don’t blame my parents for this. I will be in their place someday. And painting is not of a profession to fight for, but rather more of a hobby. When I told my father once that I wanted to join the faculty of applied arts, he said “w howa el rasm by2akl 3eesh?”.. I believed him then..

Exactly in 2001, when I was in 2nd Secondary, I drew a black and white picture for a sad boy.. I claimed then it’s dedicated to the intifada (I’m not sure if I was true with myself). This was the last picture I drew, and till this moment, I am not sure if I can hold the pencil and draw again. It’s like million years has passed since the last time I held a pencil. And if I once did again, I will start by crying.. feeling as if falling down from a high mountain lingering to a talent.. but then again not sure if it would be there waiting for me still..

Math teacher?.. :) .. (mesh be3eda.. don’t worry..)
Math = arts . And teaching is the best way to communicate with people.. I remember when I was in prep year in college, I was working as hard as I can to get A and join the staff. (You can defiantly tell where I am from that dream now).. I wasn’t an excellent student in college, and I do not regret it. I was not ready to quit reading, writing or listening to radio. I think I’ve taken what matters: logical way of thinking.
Bear in mind, you are reading for someone who joined faculty of engineering to work as a sound engineer (my last chance to join the radio). Whenever I remember now, I laugh at myself. How naïve and with little experience I was. Especially when I discovered the bitter truth, I found that sound engineering in Egypt is a job for Diplomat fanya..
But the point is. Teaching is still in my mind. I still wish to work as a teacher or a professor. A trainer?.. Something where I can deal with and address people from a near place. I would put all my wisdom and knowledge (Ha! Ha!) within my daily talk. Forming a new generation, fighting the materialistic monsters of new world.
One day I thought I will lead the teachers’ wake up….
And that dream also failed to fulfill.. may be partially.. I am not a teacher yet.

Writer and announcer
I do remember the announcing part very well. For years in life (and I mean years) I used to be an avid listener and friend to the European local service, and almost all international radio stations on the SW. DW, VOR, Radio China, Radio Japan, Voice from Australia (that’s now called hello).. etc. In Radio China they called me “المهرة البيضاء” for my brilliant Arabic writing, and I was interviewed in DW from Germany.
I feel proud mentioning that now..
You think I can turn into a teacher thru announcing?

As for writing..
Till just before my mother told me that I wished to become a writer when I was young, I thought that I wished to become a writer only after I opened my Arabic blog and started writing for real. But suddenly I remembered something that changed it all.
In my primary stage, I wrote a short novel called “خ ي ا ن ة” (treason and with letters mefarateen). I gave it to my Arabic teacher Mrs. Howayda. It was a colored little book with pictures I drew here and there, like ‘el maktaba el khadra’s books’. But she never returned this back to me! I want to have my book BACK!… it was a mix between Snow white fairy tale, and ‘Love story’. (I saw this movie when I was very young, and till now the idea hunts me, that I will live something as such one day.. )
In secondary stage, I wrote another novel but in English.. after reaching the 100 page, I forgot all about it. English is a weak language you can only use to disguise. Arabic is richer, and better to elaborate feelings in the correct form. You can guess now why this blog in English..
In College, I started the Arabic blog, and I had like roughly 10 articles published here and there; one of them in ‘Al Araby el Kuwaity’. I am very sure, If I worked more, I would have had a fixed column somewhere.. I am pretty sure of my words; yet I always claim that I don’t have something to say..!
Loss of self confidence or laziness?
Can I be a teacher and announcer thru writing?

*~*~*

Few weeks ago I was having a related discussion with a colleague in the office. He told me that his childhood dream was to work as an interior designer. So I asked “why don’t you start a shift in career and work in the field you like then?”.. but his answer was the least I expected. I thought he’d say he needed the money (like I do) or waiting for a chance to study interior design, or even its in his plans but later on… but he actually said “which is better? To work in something you ‘like’ then escape to your hobby when you want to escape from life? Or to work in the hobby you ‘love’ and you would have nowhere else to escape to?”..
His words left me thinking with a faint echo in my head saying “life is short”!..

*~*~*

These days I am reading “رحلتى الفكرية فى البذور والجذور والثمر” by AbdelWahab El Messery. This book is amazing. It might be my favorite book for this year or may be life time (I will review it isA, as soon as I finish the read, in my Arabic Blog: Lasto Adri). It’s a philosophical biography, where El Messery is comparing his life in Damanhour (Egyptian village) and USA. And begad, it’s very interesting, informative and worth the time. He’s comparing a materialistic society like USA, and a human society like Damanhour in the late 40’s and 50’s. You can bitterly laugh at the shocking facts, how we are gradually turning into a human-less environment.
There was a line he wrote that I won’t forget. He was talking about the more we find many options in life, the more decisions become the hardest thing in life; the thing that might lead to mental complications. And instead of being free to do whichever you like or choose whatever you want, you end up falling into a hesitant person, not knowing what you should do now. Many options and nothing in mind; you don’t know the difference between this or that. So you take the first thing you reach –or you hear of- with little satisfaction, telling yourself it’s a matter of trying to find what suits you best…
And it doesn’t matter now if you are applying the above words on things or Humans.
You can find a man in this mid 50’s and still searching for himself..

*~*~*

I don’t wish to be so..

*~*~*

I want to be something my children would be proud of. I want to revive the lost humanity, like el Messery is trying to convey in his books. (Rahmato ALLAH 3aleh)..
Could be teaching? Could be writing? Could be announcing?.. anything that would deal with human to human interaction.. I hate computerized world..
You know, in another part in his book, he said something brilliant I was actually thinking about the other day. That the more we claim we have controlled life through computers, the more we lose control. There would come a moment in time when experiences won’t be saved in mind, because your external memory that is taking care of your pet’s food will save your experiences somewhere. First it was general knowledge, now identities, then experiences… there we’d turn into a shadow creatures, with no past or present, slaves to ‘matter’..
Creating monsters out of your arrogance..

Woh! I love this book, and I think that it’s like a sign that I am reading it now. And though I don’t understand few parts, It’s very complicated at times, but I am trying, and will read it again isA..

*~*~*

You know that I wished to enter faculty of political science one day.. but forgot about it because of the distance between the faculty and my house?! I wonder what was I thinking of then!.. And as well I refused the idea of faculty of Arts because it was a memorizing faculty!… as if engineering was not ‘for me’..

*~*~*

The thing that always bothers me that I always knew that we live most of our life waiting and I end up doing nothing..
Now.. what I am waiting for?
When I was young, I waited to have money enough to buy the books my pocket money couldn’t afford. Now after I got the money, I am waiting for the time to read :) . So the change in plans was to wait for a little fortune that would let me live the ‘start’ of my life safely. BUT! How much is this fortune? what will I lose in return? … And the point is, by the time I would have this fortune, I will be occupied by a family stuff..
I am also waiting for the time that would come when I can go to the places I want to write about.. the desert.. el Hussine.. sina.. or other countries.. I want to have the freedom to go to Discussions I want without parental censorship. But who can confirm having this life after leaving my house?..

The boring cycle goes on and on and on..

*~*~*

I am aware of my present and future. And most probably I am very hasty. But life is short, and the things I need to know and accomplish are a lot.. I am keeping my internet usage to minimum, but that’s not enough.i need to have better usage of my time, read more, write more. 1 hour reading per day is not enough.
I think by now, I am in a better understanding for myself.. (thanks to the lecture and the book).. And looking forward to the next step..

——————-

PS:
1. Today’s post is dedicated to 2 people, one of them is Placeb0, my coincidences mate and the first to know my quest.
2. today’s theme music is “to love you more” played by “lucia Micarelli”. The song is originally by Celin Dion, and I’ve heard it for the first time during my first visit to matroo7. So unintentionally I feel me sitting infront of the beach, with sea breeze on my face, each time I listen to it.
Etfadalo m3aya..
3. I know this is the longest post I’ve written. Thanks for reading till here.

تعددت الوجوه، والشعب واحد

إعتاد الأب إنتقاد الحكومة وشجب أفعالها كلما شاهد تلفازا أو قرأ جريدة، حتى صار الشجب والإنتقاد لغته المفضلة فى الحياة. عندها وكف ابناءه التعجب كلما سمعوا “كليشيهاته” عن الديموقراطية والعدل والحرية. ولما العجب وقد أصبح بالنسبة لهم، مجرد حكومة أخرى.

Oddly enough, I stumbled this..

الحياة بعد الثانوية والجامعة

ولإن ما ينفعش كل من : بنت مصرية، بودى ومحمد سمير يدلوا بدلوهم من غير ما أنا كمان أدلو بدلوى.. قررت التعقيب على التعقيبات فى محاولة لبداية مرحلة الشفاء..
لذلك عزيزى القارئ وعزيزتى القارئة، لو فاكرين إن دى تدوينة زى ما متخيلنها منى كل مرة.. يبقى أحسنلكم تقفلوا البلوج وتروحوا حتة تانية.. عشان النهاردة مافيش لا لحمة ولا حاجة ساقعة والكلام بجد..

* * *

فى سنة 2002، للتأريخ الشخصى ليس إلا، جبت 98.8% فى الثانوية العامة. وكنت فاكرة نفسى ساعتها ياما هنا يا ما هناك.. وبالطبع، بما إن طموحى كان ينتهى عند حدود المجموع العالى وفقط، دخلت كلية الهندسة من غير ما أفكر فى أى شئ تانى! مع إنى على ما افتكر كان طموحى فى المرحلة دى أطلع مذيعة فى الراديو.
وخلصت خمس سنين الكلية، وفقدت معاها أشياء جميلة كتير.
الحياة مش بس شهادة جامعية، ولا مادة علمية دخلت إمتحانها ودلقت الكام معلومة اللى حفظتهم عن ظهر قلب. الحياة يعنى “أنا”، ثم “إنت”.. ثم “مجموعة تجارب”. وكل دا لا يمكن بشتى المقاييس يتوفروا فى ظل نظام تعليمى زى بتاعنا. نظام مبنى اساسا على تقيد الفكر والإبداع وإنماء الشخصية لمواجة العالم سواء فى المنظومة الحياتية العادية تماما، أو حتى العملية..

كلام كبير مش كدة؟!

المهم إنى إتخرجت السنة اللى فاتت، بتقدير عام جيد.. طبعا، الحمد لله على كل شئ، أولا وآخرا. لكن الحقيقة اللى لازم كل حد يعرفها وهو ناوى يدخل الجامعة. التعليم فى مصر بدأ يصبح شوية بشوية “منظومة متكررة للثانوية العامة”…
يعنى الطالب من دول اللى غرق دروس خصوصية فى الثانوية العامة، بيتخرج عشان يدخل الكلية، وهناك يعيد الكرة. طبعا لأنه دخل كلية مش عارف ينجح فيها، بما إنها كلية إختارها له المجتمع عشان برستيج أهله، ولأن –أيضا- فى جهات عمل غبية بتقيم الإنسان على تقديره فى الكلية، وتدى أفضلية لأبو إمتياز عن أبو جيد جدا! وبصراحة عندهم حق فى دى. يعنى عدد مهول زى اللى بيتخرج كل يوم، وممسوخ الشخصية زينا، ممكن أفرقهم إزاى عن بعض سوى بالتقدير اللى ممكن ينم عن شئ من المسؤولية. ورغم كدة، فإن طريقة “أحسن الوحشين” فى نظم الإختيارات الفردية للمتقدمين للوظائف، فاشل جدا… لإن أغلب المتقدمين مش وحشين أبدا.. إنما منتظرين مرحلة الإكتشاف الذاتى تبدأ عشان يبرعوا..
أنا إتخرجت بتقدير جيد، والحمد لله على حبة الشخصية اللى فضلولى، إشتغلت بعد الدراسة على طول. ورغم كل دا حاسة إنى ولا حد أصلا. ولا مميزة ولا بفكر ولا بفهم ولا بحب اللى درسته خمس سنين. ومقتنعة تماما إنى إشتغلت عشان لازم أتشتغل. زى ما هو لازم أتعلم، ولازم أدخل الكلية، ولازم أتفوق ولازم أتجوز وأكون أسرة ولازم ولازم..

الحياة بعد الكلية شئ تانى خالص.. بتبدأ تبان حبة حبة.. وكل ما بندخل فيها أكتر كل ما بتخنقنا أكتر
وبس الشئ الوحيد اللى ممكن يفوقنا من الدوامة دى.. إننا نكون نفسنا بجد..

الواحد بيتخرج من الكلية ويتصدم إنه ولا حاجة.. طبعا أنا مش بتكلم عن فئة قدرت تحقق نجاحات فى الحياة بمجهودها وتعبها وفهمها الصح للحياة.. لكنه بردو مش من فراغ.. فى اللى علمها، أو فهمهم بداية الطريق إزاى..
تخلفوا عن قطيع الخرفان، فسبقوه..
زى مثلا اللى اهلهم سايبنهم يدوسوا فى الحياة بحساب من بدرى، أو اللى دخلوا جامعات زى الجامعة الأمريكية بمصر. ماعرفش إيه نظام الجامعات الخاصة، لكنى متأكدة إنك لو دخلت كلية –بفلوسك- عشان مش قادر تنجح –بمجهودك- يبقى إحنا بنضحك على بعض. ولو مش ناجح من بدايات الطريق، يبقى الأحسن لك تدور على طريق تانى… (طبعا أنا مابتكلمش عن الإستثناءات)..

المرحلة الأصعب من الحياة، بتبدأ بعد الكلية بالظبط. ومش لصدمتك وإنت بتبدأ مرحلة البحث عن عمل وتكوين أسرة. إنما محاولتك للبقاء أصلا. محاولتك لمعرفة نفسك. تعرف إنت مين وبتحب إيه وعايز أيه وايه اللى فى إمكانياتك.. وأخيرا وليس بآخر.. إزاى تبدأ دلوقت. ودلوقت يعنى مش بعد يومين ولا ساعتين.

فيتبقى لك عزيزى أربع إختيارات ما لهم خامس:
1. تنضم لنفس الترس، وتدور على شغل وتكون أسرة وتمشى زى ما إنت عشان تخلف غيرك بنفس تفيكرك… وتجبرهم على كلية الهندسة عشان برستيج أهلك
2. ماتدخلشى الدوامة أصلا، وتفضل بتتكلم يا إما عن أمجاد ماضى مش موجود اساسا، أو تتكلم عن مستقبل ح تبدأه بكره.. والعجيب إن بكرة مابيجيش
3. يا تعرف نفسك..
4. يا تقصر الطريق وتنتحر زى طلاب الثانوية العامة.

كدا أو كدة، لازم نعرف إن نظامنا التعليمى الحالى فاشل وبشهادة كل اللى اتخرجوا منه “فى الفترة دى”… وإن كان هو شئ لا مفر منه بسبب غباء اللى بيفكروا لنا.. يبقى ع الأقل نوحد أسباب الغباء ونبدأ إحنا نفكر بطريقة منطقية..
سواء الأهل يقللوا الضغط على أولادهم ويحاولوا يساعدوهم من بدايتهم على إكتشاف مهارتهم وأحلامهم وحياتهم الخاصة، أو الشركات تبدأ فى مساعدة الطلاب والخريجين على الإحتكاك بالحياة العملية أكتر، مع السماح للعمل لغير الحاصلين على شهادات عالية، زى الدول المتقدمة…
يا إما الحكومة تلحق تلم نفسها وتحكم شعب غيرنا، عشان نحكم نفسنا من جديد على نضافة..

فتكم بعافية… وسلاماتى

The universe and me

Everyday I got to suffer the same thing. I can not get along with the folk in my office. Everyday I have to ask my colleagues if anybody needs a company, so I can spend my break with them. Hang out together, eat something, have a chit chat….

Every-other-day, I got to ask.. then ask.. then ask..

No body thinks of asking me even once for the same, and each day I end up believing “I am a boring person, and no body wants to spend time with me.”..

I might have different views, different hobbies; but I am sure I am not by any means a boring person (at least, as far as I am concerned). Yet, I am not sure why I meet this rejection every now and then.

I hate spending the break alone. I wish to talk to people. Ask them about the companies’ news, or even outside gossip. I want to eat with somebody or walk in the mall and visit new shops.

But this never happens.

Sometimes I remember when I was a kid in school; I used to have the same thing. I was not a popular person, though survived with few friends after all.

And those, I am not sure now if we are friends or not. Because we do not act like friends do. We don’t ask about each others frequently, we don’t chit chat this much and we don’t hang out very often.

My best friend is getting married very soon, and I am not sure if I am invited or not till now :) I don’t even know if she bought her dress or not yet.

Sometimes I try hard to love the universe. But some times of these times I believe… the universe does not love me..

Movie: The joy luck club

15 mins ago, I just finished watching the movie “The joy luck club“. Frankly, I have no clue what does the name got to do with any thing concerning the movie, but I bet it is still worth seeing. It’s not superb. It’s not fabulous. Strange belief being discussed, mm, Chinese kind of believes, and its.. mmm… strange in a way.

The film is simply about the story of 4 Chinese women, their 4 daughters and their grandmothers, narrated by the women and their daughters.
I enjoyed living thru this. It’s honest and beautiful. Simple and tranquil with a human touch.

Well, I do -very- recommend this movie to any one interested in “Details” and “Tangled stories”.

قهوتى الصباحية على طريقتى المكتبية

عندما كنت صغيرة، تمنيت إمتلاك مكتبة صغيرة. وكلما إمتد بى العمر، وأدركت صعوبة تحقيق الأمانى الصغيرة، إكتفيت بأمنية العمل فى أحد المكتبات العملاقة، كمكتبة مدبولى أو فروع دار الشروق بوسط البلد. أكاد أتخيلنى فى كل حلم وأنا أرتب الكتب صباحا، وأنفض الأتربة عن واحد تلو الآخر بلمسات أميرة باريسية.
لكنك تعلم -مثلى- يا عزيزى معنى الإنهماك بين رحى الحياة..

ولأن هذا الفضاء، فضاء حقيقى، يتسع حضنه للضال والشريد.. وجدت مكانى أخيرا بين الكتب.
أصبحت اليوم مكتَبِية فى مكتبةٍ إفتراضية.. أنفض غبارا إفتراضيا عن الرفوف وأصحح معلومات الكتب..
أشعر -كل يوم- صباحا بتجدد روحى يغمرنى، ويفاجئنى برغبة فى إكمال الحياة.

فأصبح كنزى هذا أفضل من قهوتى الصباحية

كل يوم على دا الحال

وبترجع روحها لروحها من رنة مفاتيحه وهو بيفتح باب البيت.
دلوقتى -بس- تقدر تقفل عينيها وتنام..

سفر الرحيل

من أكثر الحالات المُحزِنة فى هذا العالم
“محل مهجور”

Book: The Secret

I read “The secret”, or let me be precise, I read half of “The secret”, or even more, 3 chapters of “The secret”.. because I couldn’t complete the book. I hated the concept.

Every one writes a book and says this is the ultimate solution of the whatever in life; and after reading and applying you will turn into another Einstein. We read, we apply, and it doesn’t work. It doesn’t change anything. So the writers reply back, because we didn’t fully believe in “the concept” while applying.
Which is nonsense really.

“The secret” is mainly about “The Law of Attraction”. What you think of, returns back to you. If you think “happy thoughts”, you will meet “happy things” all through, and vice versa.
It’s true. I won’t say no. but that doesn’t guarantee full success.
What about destiny then? What about tests in life? What about wrong choices?
Everything would be conserved -just- into our own thinking?!
If we think we will have an accident, then we will have an accident?
That means that we die because we think we will die; which is not true, because we will die one way or another, because we have to.

See. That guy might have a point. Like when I think of car X for example. I walk in the street and notice that car X is everywhere, as if all cars suddenly turned into X.
If I think gloomy thoughts, I will turn sad; and hence sadness attracts more sadness.. and the windmill goes on and on.
That’s very true.
But I cannot control my destiny with my own thoughts.

May be the problem lies in our different religious believes?!
Islam says that you choose in life.. but you will meet tests too. Just to justify if you deserve heaven or hell.
I am not sure…

Just take my opinion about this book. Reading 1 chapter is more than enough. The book repeats it self one paragraph after the other. It’s not a “Secret”.. it’s a well known philosophy in life. You might find your self heard it accidentally somewhere you don’t remember. May be you’ve thought of this long ago, but was never aware of your thoughts.
The writing style is good. New if I can say.
Some people liked it, but I didn’t. I didn’t like explaining quotations this way. I am not dump… I can understand people’s words…

Look, all in all, I hated it… but who knows, you might hate me for hating it :D
Different opinions pals. And without differences, I would have forced everybody to think Blue :D

Chaw and see you later alligator ;)

هديل

لم أكن أتخيل أن فى إنسانية هذا العالم الإفتراضى ما يحزن إلى هذا الحد

لم أجد ما أقوله من الكلمات حين عملت بخبر غيبوبتها، فآثرت الصمت.
لا أحب مواقف الرثاء..
حتى علمت اليوم بخبر رحيلها..
لم أجد ما أقوله من الكلمات أيضا، لكننى بكيت

أراك برقتك يوما ما.. على خطى الجنة..
وأرى كتاب يحملُ حروف إسمك على رفوف مكتبتى..

سأحمل الريح في طريقي
مضى من العمر ما يكفي لأن أتوقف عن أن أكون المصب، مضى ما يكفي لأمتهن مهنة أخرى غير مفترق الطرق، والتفرس في الأصوات المتداخلة، لعلي أسمعك..

مضى ما يكفي لأن تتوقف عن العبور بركني البعيد، دون أن تأبه بإلقاء تحية وحتى لو كانت تحمل ملامح الغرباء..

مضى ما يكفي، لأن أمضي

لما نبقى سوا

واتمنيت يكون عندى برطمان شفاف أحوش فيه كل الذكريات الجاية لبعد كدة

وأنا وهى فى العربية

قالت لى وإيديها معلقة ع الكلاكس.. الناس مابقاش عندها صبر

Pictures hanging in the door way


I wonder how could people upload all their photos on FaceBook. I know you have “only friends” on your list, but photos mean lot more to me than just things I watch from time to time. It means, memories.. history, privacy, jewels.. my own secret jewels. I can allow people to take a peak-a-boo once.. or worst case scenario, uploading one or two at most.. but throwing the whole pile online?!.. It’s a crime! and people got to be prosecuted for that!

Herbs

I thought of sharing a list of the essential herbs in almost all cuisines, with an Arabic translation (in case of you struggled, a little like me at the start, in understanding the online recipes)..

Happy cooking ;)

anise = ينسون
Basil = الريحان
bay leaves =ورق اللورة
Black pepper = فلفل إسود
Cayenne pepper = capsicum = فلفل أحمر حار
cardamon = الحبهان، الهيل
carob = خروب
celery = كرفس
Cilantro = Coriander = الكزبرة
Cinnamon = القرفة
Cloves = قرنفل
Cumin = الكمون
Dill = شبث
fennel = شمر
foenu greek = حلبة
garlic = ثوم
Ginger = زنجبيل
hibiscus = كركديه
leek = كرات
Mint = نعناع
Nutmeg = جوزة الطيب
Oregano = Origanum = marjoram = المردقوش
Parsley = بقدونس
paprika = فلفل أحمر غير حار
Rosemary = إكليل الجبل، روز مارى
ْsaffron = زعفران
Sage = مريمية
tamarind = تمر هندى
Thyme = الزعتر
White pepper = فلفل أبيض

PS: feel free to add more.. I will be trying to update the list for you and me

إليها

“الموسيقى ذلك الفن الجميل المسموع الذى يأخذ الروح إلى آفاقٍ رحبة ويسمو بها ومعها إلى أعلى درجات المتعة الروحية. هذا الفن الراقى إستطاع البشر جميعا إستيعابه على مر العصور. وهو فنٌ قديم، قدم الزمان وقدم البشرية.
ومعجزة هذا الفن أننا نشعر به ولا نراه، ولكن معه نرى الاشياء أجمل ونتصور العالم من خلاله أروع وأرحب.”

كالمعتاد، لا أعرف على وجه الدقة لما تذكرتُ هذه الكلمات والتى أحفظها عن ظهِر قلب. كنتُ أسمعها فى المرحلة الإعدادية والثانوية والجامعة على إذاعة البرنامج الموسيقى كمقدمة لأحد البرامج الموسيقية.

لم أتابع حال البرنامج الآن، وليس عندى أى معلومات عن المذيعة التى كانت تقدمه.
ورغم كل هذا وذلك، دائما أجد صوتها وطريقة إلقائها حاضرة تماما فى اذنى كلما فكرت فى وصفٍ للموسيقى.. فلم أجد أبلغ من هذه الكلمات.. بعد..

أصدقائى التانيين

من فترة طويلة لاحظت مدى إعجابى بالأدوات المكتبية. نوتات كبيرة وصغيرة.. كشاكيل ملونة.. أقلام حبر ورصاص.. برايات، اساتيك.. مساطر.. كله عندى له مكانته الخاصة. ولحد دلوقتى تلاقى فى مكتبى أقلام وكشاكيل من ايام المدرسة.. ما إستعملتش.
ضعف يمكن.. حب تملك إحتمال.. فقط، كل اللى متأكدة منه إنه إقتناءها بيجلب لى سعادة غير طبيعية، وأرجع ع البيت فخورة بنوتتى الجديدة.. مرة ورا مرة، نوتة فوق نوتة، المكتب حاله يتلخبط.. والدولاب يتكركب.. وماما تتكهرب.. والبيت يبدأ ثورة تنظيفية لإستيطان الكراكيب.. وفى وسط كل ثورة من الثورات وأنا فى أشد الإقتناع بأهمية كل ورقة فى حياتى طبعا طبعا، أضطر فى آخرة المطاف ألملم كل الحاجات فى حتة شنطة صغيرة..

بحب ملمس الورق الأبيض، بسطور خفيفة.. أمشى عليها من غير ما تجبرنى على إشارات.. أطلع وأنزل براحتى.. خطوطها بتساعدنى أكمل سور جنينة بيتنا فاردة دراعاتى للهوا يخبطنى كدة هوه.. أتنطط وأتشقلب.. وأرجع تانى من أول السطر..

الاقلام دى لها قصص تانية خالص!..
مش همه عندهم هواية تجميع الطوابع والعملات؟ أنا بقى هوايتى تجميع الأقلام.. عندى علبة فيها أقلام من كل مكان زورته أو مؤتمر حضرته وقدرت اقلب لى قلم من بين الزحمة.. تخيل بتفكرنى بموقف مع كل كلمة تتكتب ع السطر؟.. بحب الوانهم الملخبطة، وأشكلهم اللى مش مِرَكِبة.. وذكراياتهم المنعكشة.. بحسهم شئ مهم جدا جدا، وطبعا طبعا، مش أى أى اللى يفكر يطلب يستلف..

لاء ولا الخط..
فى خط واضح، ولطيف.. القلم يجرى ورا أفكارك جرى.. وفى قلم غامض، ومش صريح، يجبرك تفكر فى مبتدأ الفعل وآخره.. فى قلم يموتك، يحبس نفَسَك قبل ما يتولد.. وقلم تحسه بيندهك، بيكلمك ع الورق أو يحسسك إنك محتاج تكلمه.. بيكون أوقات أقرب لك من صديق أو رفيق أو قريب.. وأوقات بيكون القلم على دا الورق السبب إنك تعرف أجمل ما عندك..
بس إنت غالبا ما بتعرفش..

فى تانية إعدادى طلعت من الأوائل مرة، فأهدانى والدى قلم سنون روترنج لونه فرانى ميتاليك.. دخلت به كل الإمتحانات بعدها عشان بتفاءل..
فى إعدادى هندسة، وقع من الشنطة فى أوتوبيس نقل عام.. دورت عليه كتير.. وكنت مستعدة أدفع فيه كل اللى حيلتى ساعتها لكنه إختفى.. حزنت عليه زى ما يكون أول مرة اعرف معنى كلمة “الإفتقاد”..

هو أكيد ضعف قدام الأقلام والورق.. ريحت الورق الجديد بتجلب تفاؤل.. والورق القديم بتجلب نشوة للمكان والزمان.. والأقلام بتطرح معنى جديد كل يوم.. مزيج من الراحة والإمتنان.. وأشياء مش دايما بتتلمس.. لكنها دايما دايما، بتتحس…