Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Monday, 16 July 2012
Love
It is not difficult to encounter or to imagine, nowadays, a love relationship to be born, to blossom, to survive and to finally end happily with the union between two persons from two different parts of the world. It is rather common to hear about this scenario recurring for reasons you and I are perfectly aware of: the ease, availability and speed of communication- let it be by air, by land, by water and by the most recent and widely used media: the Internet.
My story is not one of these stories. My characters never met. Their times did not offer them the privilege of the internet, let alone the other more primitive means of communication. And their relationship did not end with happily ever after. However, their relationship was not any less special.
Love at first read….literally!
This is the love story of Gibran Khalil Gibran and May Ziadeh. May Ziadeh was born in Palestine to a Lebanese father and to a Palestinian mother and moved to Egypt to write for Arab newspapers and periodicals. Gibran Khalil Gibran was born in Bechari village in Lebanon and immigrated to the United States to pursue his artistic studies and to take on his career as worldly renowned artist, poet, and writer. These two exceptional Arab identities share a unique love affair that has lasted till the end of their lives. They expressed their mutual admiration by words written down on and exchanged through letters.
The first contact was established by May Ziadeh in 1912 when she sent a letter to Khalil Gibran showing how deeply she was moved with Selma Karameh’s story in Gibran´s one and only novel, “The Broken Wings” (Al Ajniha Al Moutakassira). Although she found the novel too liberal for her liking, she shared and acknowledged Gibran´s passion on women’s rights. From that moment on, they became close correspondents and devoted pen pals. In 1921, Gibran received her picture.
May Ziadeh was a champion of Gibran’s writings. By critiquing Khalil Gibran’s books, she spread his works across the Arab world and enhanced her own reputation as a literary critic. Gibran always replied to her letters and articles with utmost elegance and delicacy. For example, after she interpreted the main character of Khalil Gibran’s “The Madman” (Al Majnoun), he declared to her that the thoughts and feelings of the madman were not his own. Yet, in another letter to her, he affirms, “The soul, May, does not see anything in life save that which is in the soul itself. It does not believe except in its own private events and when it experiences something, the outcome becomes a part of it.”
Tragic Beauty
Khalil Gibran felt very close to and seemed to blindly trust May Ziadeh to reveal his deepest fears and emotions to her. To his pen pal, he admitted his fear of death, “I am, May, a small volcano whose opening has been closed.” Before his death, he wrote to her expressing his yearning to retreat back to his dearly beloved Lebanon, “My longing for my homeland almost destroys me.” In the early thirties, with the death of Gibran and her parents, May Ziadeh fell into a depression and was committed into a hospital for mental illnesses in Beirut.
Despite never meeting her, the Lebanese Khalil Gibran loved the Palestinian feminist writer for almost 20 years. And despite the rumors of May Ziadeh’s love affairs with other Arab artists and writers who attended her literary salon, she cherished and maintained an idealized love relationship with him by letters. Their letters bear witness to a profound and supportive relationship enduring and thriving across the oceans until the last days of their lives.
Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?
Do you know the greatness of my patience?
Where are you, me beloved?
Oh, how great is Love!
And how little am I!
- Excerpt from A Lover’s Call XXVII by Gibran Khalil Gibran
This was written by Miss.Lea from Habibi Blog
Saturday, 23 June 2012
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
Desiderata by Max Ehrmann
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
The great red dragon of Wales
Every old country that has won fame in history and built up a civilization of its own, has a national flower. Besides this, some living creature, bird, or beast, or, it may be, a fish is on its flag. In places of honor, it stands as the emblem of the nation; that is, of the people, apart from the land they live on. Besides flag and symbol, it has a motto. That of Wales is: "Awake: It is light." Now because the glorious stories of Wales, Scotland and Ireland have been nearly lost in that of mighty England, men have at times, almost forgotten about the leek, the thistle, and the shamrock, which stand for the other three divisions of the British Isles. Yet each of these peoples has a history as noble as that of which the rose and the lion are the emblems. Each has also its patron saint and civilizer. So we have Saint George, Saint David, Saint Andrew, and Saint Patrick, all of them white-souled heroes. On the union flag, or standard of the United Kingdom, we see their three crosses. The lion of England, the harp of Ireland, the thistle of Scotland, and the Red Dragon of Wales represent the four peoples in the British Isles, each with its own speech, traditions, and emblems; yet all in unity and in loyalty, none excelling the Welsh, whose symbol is the Red Dragon. In classic phrase, we talk of Albion, Scotia, Cymry, and Hibernia. But why red? Almost all the other dragons in the world are white, or yellow, green or purple, blue, or pink. Why a fiery red color like that of Mars? Borne on the banners of the Welsh archers, who in old days won the battles of Crecy and Agincourt, and now seen on the crests on the town halls and city flags, in heraldry, and in art, the red dragon is as rampant, as when King Arthur sat with His Knights at the Round Table. The Red Dragon has four three-toed claws, a long, barbed tongue, and tail ending like an arrow head. With its wide wings unfolded, it guards those ancient liberties, which neither Saxon, nor Norman, nor German, nor kings on the throne, whether foolish or wise, have ever been able to take away. No people on earth combine so handsomely loyal freedom and the larger patriotism, or hold in purer loyalty to the union of hearts and hands in the British Empire, which the sovereign represents, as do the Welsh. The Welsh are the oldest of the British peoples. They preserve the language of the Druids, bards, and chiefs, of primeval ages which go back and far beyond any royal line in Europe, while most of their fairy tales are pre-ancient and beyond the dating. Why the Cymric dragon is red, is thus told, from times beyond human record. It was in those early days, after the Romans in the south had left the island, and the Cymric king, Vortigern, was hard pressed by the Picts and Scots of the north. To his aid, he invited over from beyond the North Sea, or German Ocean, the tribes called the Long Knives, or Saxons, to help him. But once on the big island, these friends became enemies and would not go back. They wanted to possess all Britain. Vortigern thought this was treachery. Knowing that the Long Knives would soon attack him, he called his twelve wise men together for their advice. With one voice, they advised him to retreat westward behind the mountains into Cymry. There he must build a strong fortress and there defy his enemies. So the Saxons, who were Germans, thought they had driven the Cymry beyond the western borders of the country which was later called England, and into what they named the foreign or Welsh parts. Centuries afterwards, this land received the name of Wales. People in Europe spoke of Galatians, Wallachians, Belgians, Walloons, Alsatians, and others as "Welsh." They called the new fruit imported from Asia walnuts, but the names "Wales" and "Welsh" were unheard of until after the fifth century. The place chosen for the fortified city of the Cymry was among the mountains. From all over his realm, the King sent for masons and carpenters and collected the materials for building. Then, a solemn invocation was made to the gods by the Druid priests. These grand looking old men were robed in white, with long, snowy beards falling over their breasts, and they had milk-white oxen drawing their chariot. With a silver knife they cut the mistletoe from the tree-branch, hailing it as a sign of favor from God. Then with harp, music and song they dedicated the spot as a stronghold of the Cymric nation. Then the King set the diggers to work. He promised a rich reward to those men of the pick and shovel who should dig the fastest and throw up the most dirt, so that the masons could, at the earliest moment, begin their part of the work. But it all turned out differently from what the king expected. Some dragon, or powerful being underground, must have been offended by this invasion of his domain; for, the next morning, they saw that everything in the form of stone, timber, iron or tools, had disappeared during the night. It looked as if an earthquake had swallowed them all up. Both king and seers, priests and bards, were greatly puzzled at this. However, not being able to account for it, and the Saxons likely to march on them at any time, the sovereign set the diggers at work and again collected more wood and stone. This time, even the women helped, not only to cook the food, but to drag the logs and stones. They were even ready to cut off their beautiful long hair to make ropes, if necessary. But in the morning, all had again disappeared, as if swept by a tempest. The ground was bare. Nevertheless, all hands began again, for all hearts were united. For the third time, the work proceeded. Yet when the sun rose next morning, there was not even a trace of either material or labor. What was the matter? Had some dragon swallowed everything up? Vortigern again summoned his twelve wise men, to meet in council, and to inquire concerning the cause of the marvel and to decide what was to be done. After long deliberation, while all the workmen and people outside waited for their verdict, the wise men agreed upon a remedy. Now in ancient times, it was a custom, all over the world, notably in China and Japan and among our ancestors, that when a new castle or bridge was to be built, they sacrificed a human being. This was done either by walling up the victim while alive, or by mixing his or her blood with the cement used in the walls. Often it was a virgin or a little child thus chosen by lot and made to die, the one for the many. The idea was not only to ward off the anger of the spirits of the air, or to appease the dragons under ground, but also to make the workmen do their best work faithfully, so that the foundation should be sure and the edifice withstand the storm, the wind, and the earthquake shocks. So, nobody was surprised, or raised his eyebrows, or shook his head, or pursed up his lips, when the king announced that what the wise men declared, must be done and that quickly. Nevertheless, many a mother hugged her darling more closely to her bosom, and fathers feared for their sons or daughters, lest one of these, their own, should be chosen as the victim to be slain. King Vortigern had the long horn blown for perfect silence, and then he spoke: "A child must be found who was born without a father. He must be brought here and be solemnly put to death. Then his blood will be sprinkled on the ground and the citadel will be built securely." Within an hour, swift runners were seen bounding over the Cymric hills. They were dispatched in search of a boy without a father, and a large reward was promised to the young man who found what was wanted. So into every part of the Cymric land, the searchers went. One messenger noticed some boys playing ball. Two of them were quarreling. Coming near, he heard one say to the other: "Oh, you boy without a father, nothing good will ever happen to you." "This must be the one looked for," said the royal messenger to himself. So he went up to the boy, who had been thus twitted and spoke to him thus: "Don't mind what he says." Then he prophesied great things, if he would go along with him. The boy was only too glad to go, and the next day the lad was brought before King Vortigern. The workmen and their wives and children, numbering thousands, had assembled for the solemn ceremony of dedicating the ground by shedding the boy's blood. In strained attention the people held their breath. The boy asked the king: "Why have your servants brought me to this place?" Then the sovereign told him the reason, and the boy asked: "Who instructed you to do this?" "My wise men told me so to do, and even the sovereign of the land obeys his wise councilors." "Order them to come to me, Your Majesty," pleaded the boy. When the wise men appeared, the boy, in respectful manner, inquired of them thus: "How was the secret of my life revealed to you? Please speak freely and declare who it was that discovered me to you." Turning to the king, the boy added: "Pardon my boldness, Your Majesty. I shall soon reveal the whole matter to you, but I wish first to question your advisers. I want them to tell you what is the real cause, and reveal, if they can, what is hidden here underneath the ground." But the wise men were confounded. They could not tell and they fully confessed their ignorance. The boy then said: "There is a pool of water down below. Please order your men to dig for it." At once the spades were plied by strong hands, and in a few minutes the workmen saw their faces reflected, as in a looking glass. There was a pool of clear water there. Turning to the wise men, the boy asked before all: "Now tell me, what is in the pool?" As ignorant as before, and now thoroughly ashamed, the wise men were silent.
Monday, 28 May 2012
Friday, 18 May 2012
Blogger Mr.Lawrence al-Rashidi from Kuwait sentenced to ten years in prison
Kuwait: Blogger sentenced to ten years in prison : Arabic Network For Human Rights Information
Cairo – May 17th, 2012 ANHRI condemns the ruling upholding the 10 year imprisonment sentence and 1000 Kuwaiti Dinars fine of Lawrence al-Rashidi, Kuwaiti blogger, on charges of “insulting the Prince and his powers in poems uploaded on YouTube”. ANHRI considers this ruling an evidence that freedom of expression in Kuwait has become at its lowest. The case goes back to June 2011, when the general prosecution accused al-Rashidi of “spreading false news and rumors about the situation in the country”, “uploading visual and audio recordings prepared by him on YouTube”, “calling for the demolition of values and ethics”, and “calling the tribes to appoint a Prince of the country, demonstrate, confront the ruling regime, and bring down its transgressions”. Al-Rashidi is also being tried because of his posts on Twitter, deemed by the authorities as “an insult to the princely identity”. It is worth noting that Article 54 of the Kuwaiti constitution stipulates that “the Prince is the head of state whose identity shall not be touched”. This Article contradicts international conventions on human rights that guarantee individuals’ right to freedom of opinion and expression. International conventions also do not put any one above the law or gives him\her immunity against criticism. “We are deeply disturbed over this cruel and shocking ruling. The campaign launched against the activists in Kuwait is escalating. The Kuwaiti government is detaining bloggers and activists because they express their opinion on the Internet and use it in their discussions and exchange of information,” said ANHRI. ANHRI also said that Kuwait has failed to adhere to its obligations of guaranteeing human rights and the rule of law, especially after the revolutions of the Arab Spring. The Kuwaiti government has detained a number of bloggers, the best known of them are the tweep Nasser Abel because of expressing his opinion and solidarity with the Bahraini people, and Mohamed al-Melify, writer and blogger. There are also preparations to draft laws restricting freedom of expression on Twitter and other websites.
Friday, 20 April 2012
Sunday, 15 April 2012
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