انفصام!

انفصام الشخصية العربية

انا مواطن عربي- وهذا ليس باختياري. والكثير من الاشياء في حياتي لا يد لي فيها، لا اختيار، ولا حيلة. ولدت في المشرق، لم اختر مكان ولادتي الذي يبعد الكثير عن ما اسموه وطني الذي لم اختر ان انتمي اليه. ولم اختر طفولتي، حرب في لبنان ابعدتنا، وتوتر سياسي في سوريا رحلّنا. لم اختر مدرستي، ولا هي اختارتني، ولازلت احتفظ بقصاصة كتب عليها مدير المدرسة: لا مانع من قبوله في الصف الخامس رغم ان عدد الطلاب ٢٠٤ وعدد الصفوف ٤.

لم يك بخياري الذهاب الى المسجد، ولم يك قراري ان اتوقف خوفا من الاشتباه بي بأني من تنظيم اسلامي. لم اقرر اي فرع في الثانوية ان ادرس، كان قرار المدرسة، ولم اكن انا من كتب الاختيارات على طلب القبول الجامعي ،وقرار القبول الموحد هو من فرض علي دراستي الجامعية. 

ملابسي يختارها المجتمع، طعامي يختاره الموسم واليوم من الشهر.

لم يقل لي احدا يوما ماذا تريد؟ لا اعرف ماذا احب من الاشياء، فلم املك يوما خياراَ في امتلاكها. 

رغم انعدام الخيارات في حياتي انا دائما مطالب بأن اختار موقفاََ من الاحداث واتشبث به. وخياراتي دائما متضادة. عندما بدأت اعي العالم حولي طُلب مني ان اختار ان اقف مع بلد عربي ضد اخر، هذا احتل هذا وذاك طلب عون القريب والغريب على هذا! كان لا بد ان اختار!

لاحقا قيل لي هل انت مع السلام ام ضده؟ هل انت مع الانفتاح الاقتصادي، ام ضده؟ مع الخصخصة ام ضدها؟ مع الصوت الواحد ام ضده؟ 

حاولت ان افهم ماذا يعني خيار؟ ماذا يعني ان اتخذ موقف واختار ما اريد، رغم اني لا اعرف ماذا اريد! وبدأت الخيارات تتعقد! 

الان وانا اناظر الاحداث حولي اتسأل: هل حقا علي ان اختار مع اي طرف اريد ان اكون؟

هل اساند الناتو في قصفه لبلد عربي، ام اساند الثوار في وقفتهم امام الحاكم؟ هل أبكي على الامن والامان مع قليل من الخوف وكثير من الذل،  ام اتنعم بالحرية قبل ان يصيبني الرصاص؟ هل ابكي على مصر الثورة، ام ٍمصر الامنة، ام مصر المدنية؟ هل اكون فل، ام اخوان؟ هل أساند الشيعة في البحرين، ام السنة في ايران؟ هل ما يحدث في سوريا مؤامرة اكشف خيوطها، ام اصطف مع "المتأمرين" واغني للحرية؟

نحن لا نعرف ان نختار، لم نتعلمه يوما ابدا، كل شيء في حياتي واجب او حرام؟ لماذا تطالبوني ان اختار، والكل يلومني لاني لم ولا احسن الاختيار؟

حقيقة اشعر اني مصاب باضطراب نفسي، انفصام شديد بالشخصية! تروادني افكار بالانتحار، ولكني لا عرف كيف، ولا اريد ان اختار!

 

الكل يختار موقفه وحزبه وفكره ونظامه العالمي، والكل مؤمن انه على الحق الابلج، وكل ما سواه ضال، مضلل، رجعي، مستشرق، مستغرب، يكره الحق ولا يريد ان يقر به!

ايها العالم العربي، انا معكم جميعا، انا سلفي اؤمن ان ما اصلح حال اول الامة سيصلح حال اخرها، اخواني اعرف ان البناء لا بد ان يبدأ من القاعدة، تحريري مقتنع بان الخلافة هي الحل، ليبرالي اقول بالمساواة والحرية، متمدن انادي بالدولة المدنية، اشتراكي اطالب بالتوزيع العادل للثروة، رأسمالي ادافع عن حرية التملك، سني وشيعي، شرقي وغربي، عربي وعربي، متطرف ومتطرف. هل هذه الخيارات ترضيكم؟

وانا ايضا عكس ذلك كله، ومؤيد ومعارض بشدة، انا كما تريدون واكثر، انا مصاب بانفصام بالشخصية!

Dreams, all sort of dreams

Expensive dreams...

Close your eyes and fly, the world is all yours. Thats how we try enjoying life, if we can't do it in reality, we close our eyes and dream about it.

You do not need much, just your self and your thoughts, your wild thoughts. 

This is what makes life beautiful, because what is impossible in real life is easy in your dreams, what is unachievable becomes feasible. Life suddenly becomes simple and enjoyable, worth living.

Dreams by definition are nice, sweet and happy, if they are not, then they are no longer dreams, they are nightmares. 

I always thought that everything permissible in dreams, that there is no such cheap or expensive dreams, but recently i am doubting such believes.

The older we grow the more we realise our reality. We come to understand how little we are, how insignificant and may i say rubbish, as mankind or individuals.

The more our understanding or our reality grows the less enjoyable our dreams are. We start to have cheap dreams, much more simpler, less ambitious and less exciting. 

When you are five you dreams extend beyond all what humanity can achieve, by the time you are fifty your dreams are hardly achievable by you. As we get older our dream about the flying car shrinks gradually to a low tax cheaply insured economical family car! 

Hence, i would like to propose a new approach to dreams, let us teach our kids some cheap dreams, dreams that we can afford, and by the time they are our age they will be ecstatic as all their dreams have come true, not like us suffering bipolar disorders and trying to compromise further more on what we could and should dream about....

My kingdom, my throne..

My kingdom, my throne!

 

Here is where I find myself.

 

I sit on what I call “my throne” and relax as I feel I am sinking in, remove all that stuck on me; in or out, clear my mind, my body and soul of that is bothering me.

 

Everything here is made in way so I can maximize my joy. The smooth wood touching my body, the purling of water just adding a sense of serendipity to the scene, the choice of colours that is very simple, and plain. Everything is just right, so I can enjoy what I call my throne.

Here is where I feel at peace with myself and the world, I feel that I own the moment; nothing else is here but me. Time stops and I start, I allow my thoughts to go as wild as they could, as dreamy as they wish, and as happy as happiness could be. I build things, people, relations, opportunities, houses, and even miracles. I give speeches that everybody admires, I have followers, I become famous, the greatest a man could become. I travel, discover, and solve problems, not just mine, every problem that mankind known, I find a solution for, and I trail it and it works.

 

Here I feel I am who I am distended to be, I am who I should and I hoped to be, I am my real self.

 

I relax and enjoy, think and reflect. I make the best out of this magical moment, I live it to its maximum potential.

 

On my throne  my thoughts are limitless, my powers have no boundaries,  my decisions are not questionable, my life is perfect, ...

-Dad; I really really need to use the toilet!

Just one more minute…

-that what you’ve said ten minutes ago!!

Sadly, someone else need to use the throne!

Existence!!!!!!

Ignoring me....

I do not exist, or may be i am not sure if i do exist or not.

While others are busy to find the purpose of existence, i am struggling to find my existence.

I get on the bus sit next to somebody, anybody, could be you, and i notice that i am totally ignored as if i do not exist. I walk the roads the markets and plenty more places trying to see if anybody notices me? Do others notice my existence or i am a ghost, a wave of flesh passing by, nobody.

I look into peoples eyes, straight in the eyes trying to make sure that i am seen, i shout loudly so i can be heard, i try to prove my existence to others, but in every attempt i end up in frustration and failure, others notice me as a noise, as a mass, but not as me, a human, the best they could see is nobody!

I am nobody, to you and to most of those who inhibit earth, you and them still ignoring me, you still pretend i do not exist, and maybe you are all right, I do not exist, i am just a shadow of human who died at birth and just happened that the body continued to grow...

فلسفة زايدة

كلنا فلاسفة

كان مما درسته في الجامعة مادة مدخل الى علم الفلسفة، والحقيقة ان اكثر ما اثار اهتمامي في المادة هو اسمها"علم الفلسفة" اي ان الفلسفة علم، وبما اني فشلت في مجالات العلوم الاخرى احببت ان اجرب حظي في هذا العلم. 

درست اشياء كثيرة في هذه المادة ولكني لم احفظ الكثير الا اشياء ثلاثة: 

الفلسفة هي حب الحكمة... 

احد الفلاسفة قال ان الجمال هو الحياة..

لا شيء يقيني في الفلسفة وكل شيء قابل للنقض والاثبات مرات ومرات.

الان اتذكر هذه الاشياء وانا تصفح النت، الاف الكتاب، وعلى كل مقالة الاف التعليقات، الاف التغريدات على تويتر وكل تغريدة تسلتزم الف رد... والفيسبوك يمتلىء بالمواضيع والنقاشات .. ما يثيرني دائما هو ان غالب المواد المقروءة تدعي الفلسفة، وبما اني اعرف الكثير عن علم الفلسفة (ثلاثة اشياء تحديدا) اشعر باني ملزم ان اوضح ثلاثة اشياء:

الفلسفة هي حب الحكمة، لا النطق بها. هي البحث عن الحكمة وليس كما نرى الالاف والملايين ينطقون بما يدعون انه الحكمة!

جمالية المقولات والحكمة التي نراها ونسمعها كل يوم هي في علاقتها في الحياة، كم منها يمكن ان يكون حي، وكم منها هو كلام اجوف ميت.

كثرة الجدال والنقاش والاختلاف زادتني يقينا ان الفلسفة فعلا هي مبنية على ان كل شيء قابل للجدل ولا يوجد شيء يقيني ثابت...

مادة مدخل الى علم الفلسفة كانت مادة ممتعة، حصلت فيها ٨٢٪ وهي علامة جيدة جدا. الحياة الان في هذا العصر الفلسفي ليست بنفس المتعة واظن اني ساحمل المادة واعيدها.. الاختلاف ان الاولى كانت متطلب اختياري، ام الان فهي اجباري..

thinking:

Thinking, a lot of it. Not sure what I am thinking about, but what counts is I am thinking, therefore I exist.

Is it a game that I am trying to win, or a challenge I want to overcome. Maybe it’s just me, who I am.. a thinker.

Before going to bed I spend a good  hour thinking, first thing when I get up as I stay in bed for 10 to 20 minutes thinking. On the train, the tube, the bus, sitting in the office, in meetings, walking the short distance from the office to the station, always thinking.

One of the many things that I am thinking about is how people become insane? Why some commit suicide? Why some become so sadistic? Going through my continuous thinking process it is a simple answer, losing relation with reality and living in their own world of thoughts! A world created consciously by their own thoughts, very selective thoughts that are put together gradually to create a world that they prefer to live in rather than the real “toxic” world. 

To put this in a different way, you hate your existence but as you continue to think you continue to exist, then create your own existence! I like brown, so that’s the colour of my sky, I like BMW so that is the brand of my coffee, I like Palestine so that’s the name of my mistress, I like something in the real world, I take it with me to my preferred world of existence in the way I like it to be, and gradually I have my own world and therefore: I am insane.

Hearing this you must say “oh God, he’s gone off, totally” or maybe in my own created world that what you should do! But I can assure that I am not insane –although they all say that- I am genius (they also say that). I have complete understanding of all my surroundings and everything is under control, hence I am creating my own universe! 

Thinking, more thinking about what to think about..  

Worry not my friend, I am still here, for now, but I have realized the danger of my thinking processes and trying to reverse it, I do not want to be insane, so I am now considering becoming a drug addict. Which does the same thing, makes you happy and living in your own world that you have created your self, without too much thinking. 

Strangely, I can’t find you in my world, there must be something about you that I don’t really like, wonder what that might be? Oh, yes, your relationship to the real me, I hate the real me, so I don’t want any thing that reminds me of "me", including you.

Imagine if this is true, really can you imagine such thing? If so then maybe it is true and you are not imagining and I am not insane, or maybe I am really good in pretending it is not true, or true so I can’t tell nor anyone else.

Waiting

Waiting...

There is nothing worse than waiting, whether its the bus, an exam result or a life changing decision. 

But waiting is a game, and as in any game, there is a goal or outcome to achieve, a set of obstacles to make it harder to get to your goal, and a set of rules you have to abide.

In the waiting game, the goal or outcome is obvious, so no need to define it. The obstacles are not many, mainly it is just time. The rules of the game are defined by the players, and if you are the only one waiting, then you can define your rules as you wish.

So the main thing in this game is time, you can feel every second of it, you can feel it going through, draining you and sometimes killing you. Still you are sticking to game, no other option but to play it, and wait.

I am an expert in the waiting game, i have been on the waiting before i was even born! 9 months waiting in my mother womb, then years more waiting to say my first words: i do not want to play this game! They did not get it at the time! And since, everyday i am waiting, during the day i am waiting the night to hide in my sleep, and in the night waiting the day to run away of my dreams. 

The other day i decided that i no longer want to play this game, i want to stop waiting, looked at my options and found that to achieve that i have to give up life, so since, i have been waiting death!

Time

Time

2 parts short story- by Ahmad Baker

Jun, 2012

Him- 1

Time, it is so precious. I try to save every second I could. Running home after a long day at work is a good example of how precious time is, and how careful I am in saving it. I take the Bakerloo line from Edgware Road Station rather than Paddington, that saves me approximately a minute. I am very careful to sit in the second coach, by the end door, so when I get off at Oxford Circus Station I do not need to walk long distance against the crowd to get to the exit, another minute saved. As I reach the Vitoria line I stand under the digital clock, just a foot to the right, that is where the doors open, and that would be the perfect exit for the Finsbury Park station, another minute saved.

I walked onto the tube and stood next to the door on the right hand side, this is the door side that opens at Finsbury, few more seconds! I scanned the passengers as I always do hoping that I can find a familiar face, and to my surprise this time I have!

It has been almost 10 years since we last saw each other, and 10 years is a very long time.

She has changed a lot! Does not life change us everyday without consent! The hair is now blonde; she always said “I will never dye my hair blonde, ever” well, something has changed; I bet there are few greys in there. Few lines appearing around the eyes, age is a fact, we all know, and some are good at hiding it, she used to say that as well. Clearly she has put on some weight, I remember when she used to say I will kill myself if I become fat! She is not fat, yet, but getting there! 

Her smile is not the same, it made me doubt if it was her, she definitely lost the sparkle, that what I loved most! I could see a glimpse of a smile, did she see me, or it is just her normal cheerful attitude to life. She was always happy and cheerful, “there is a lot to celebrate in life and everyday I find new things to be happy about” that what she said to me when I complained how happy she always is. She asked me what things make you happy,  I paused, I wanted to say: you, but I could not.

I looked at her hands and she is wearing a ring, so she is married, however, there no rings to say if you have children or not! What difference would that make?

I said to her once that she will live single and die single, because no man is good enough for her. I did not say “even me” but I kind of knew it. Obviously she has proved me wrong, or maybe I was right about the latter part, not the first one!

I always hoped that we meet again, there were a lot of things I wanted to say and share with her. I wanted to tell her how I really felt about her, which I never did. I wanted to have the chance to start the relationship again, although we have never had a “relationship” as such, we were not in a relation, but we were not just friends. Both of us knew it, but I never had the courage to say a thing, she always looked too good for me, out of my league. Still she was always nearby, very close. As much as we seemed close, we were apart. And as the weird friendship started it ended, sudden! She moved jobs, I could not move. I never called, nor did she!

I did not want her to see me, I did not have words to say to her. After all these years you expect to have loads of interesting stuff that you have done, but for me: life is just as predictable as life could be! Average is the word I would use describing every aspect of it. Average or even below, that is me!

As I was hiding inside me so she can not see me, or see through me, I wondered: why I am striving to save seconds and minutes everyday when over the last ten years I have not done anything worth talking about? Time -I call precious- have been wasted over the past decade.

The tube stopped at King’s Cross, she walked passed me and looked me at the eyes and said: hey you; how are you?

She was walking in way to say that I am getting off here, so I replied quickly as the tube stopped and before the doors opened: I am well.. great to see you. I wanted to hold her in my arms and cry loud I miss you, but I did not.

The doors opened and she got off and looked at me and said: take care!

She never said that before, she used to say: I will see you soon, bye bye! And then wave with her right hand. Sometimes she would wink, I loved that, and she knew it!

I smiled and nodded, did not know what I could say. I threw myself on the empty seat and started to wonder what is the point of saving seconds when I am wasting my entire life?

Time,

Her- 2

 I stopped caring about it long time ago. What is the point of caring about minutes and seconds when you have sixty seconds in every minute; that is a lot of seconds. If I struggle in keeping myself occupied everyday why would I care if I waste an hour here or an hour there.

I got to Victoria station on time, if that makes any difference. I stopped for a coffee before taking the Victoria line to Kings Cross, I am not in a rush. My train from Kings Cross does not depart for another hour, that would give enough time to get there and get myself another hot drink before departure. Sitting in the tube at rush hour must be the most depressing thing ever. “Rush hour” is a rather silly name for the time when everything is jammed and walking a platform would take twice the time! Every body in the tube looked so isolated, some into there paper, others reading books, most are listening to music, and all, I mean it: all are avoiding eye contact with everyone else.

At Oxford Circus station as the crowds pushed their way inside or outside the tube, I saw a familiar face walking in; I am shocked! It has been nearly ten years since we last met, does not time fly? It does not!

As the rest of the passengers, he rushed into a corner and locked himself, into himself. I did not think he noticed me, and I tried to avoid looking at him, but I could not resist. He has aged, I could see some grey hair, and even started to go bold. “My hair is my life line” he used to say that a lot, his lifeline is running low! He also put on weight, he had never been active and fit, but he is clearly letting himself go!

He is wearing a wedding ring, “I will only get married when I find my soul mate; which I do not believe that such a thing exists” that what he used to say, I smiled when I remembered that. Shame there are no rings to tell if you have children; what difference would that make?

Did he see me, not sure if he has! He looked so lonely, like the rest of the passengers on the tube. He was not smiling, rather he had a frown face. “I am happy, but smiling is for others to see that I am happy, not to say if I am or not” he said when I asked him why he rarely smiles. He asked me why I am so cheerful, I wanted to say because I am with you, but I could not. What a strange relation we had, we never had a proper relation, but definitely we were more than just friends. We saw each other everyday, we talked for hours, but we never  said how do you feel about each other. And as the relationship started, it ended: sudden! He changed his mind about moving in the last minute, so I moved jobs and cities and since he never called, nor did I.

I did not want to talk to him because I was ashamed of my failures. What things can I say to him? It has been ten years, and I could not fill a minute talking about them years. Average is the word, everything in my life over the past decade could be summarised in one word: average. What a life that could be abstracted in such a boring expression, I said to myself.  

I started copying everyone else on the tube and hiding inside myself, wondering: why I became so careless and boring. Why I lost sense of time and let life takes me as it wished. Can I just continue like this or I have to face my reality and be myself, again.

As the tube approached Kings Cross I got up and walked towards the doors, which he was standing next to. He looked me at the eyes and smiled; I looked up all the words I know and still did not know what I can say, so I just opened my mouth: hey you, how are you? I wanted to hold him in my arms and cry loud: I miss you! but I did not. He said: I am well, great to see you! He never said such a thing before, he used to say: happy to see you, really I am. And then give me a big smile, I loved that, and he knew it.

I stood there waiting for the doors to open, and hoping that he would say something, but he did not, and the doors did. I made my way out and mumbled: take care. I did not look back.

I walked fast towards the exit, looking at the sings to find the way to my train, I felt the urge inside me to move fast, to try and save time, so I can do more, I have wasted enough.

My Dear Friends I need your HELP

My Dear Friends:

Its Ahmad here, I am sorry to intrude on you, but this is now different:

You have known me for some years, I always try to be a nice respectful person and if I was not at times please forgive me. After all I am a human and we all do mistakes, but I will never shy from apologising for my own mistakes.

I have been insulted, I feel really hurt and I need your help.

I am a Muslim, an average Muslim, who tries to live Islam to the best of my ability. I believe in God as the Creator of all things and God has sent messengers and prophets to spread the word of God, among them is Muhammad (may God’s peace and prayer be among them all). As a Muslim I love and respect all God’s messengers, from Adam up to Muhammad (God’s peace and prayer be among them all).

I am sure you have heard of the film made in the USA mocking Islam and Prophet Muhammad, then came the cartoons in France depicting and insulting Prophet Muhammad. Some say this is freedom of expression; true: when the intention is expressing your right to say what you believe in, but when the intention is insult and nothing else, then it is not freedom of expression and it must be stopped.

As a Muslim I feel hurt, I feel very angry that my believe is been ridicule, my role model is humiliated and that I have to defend my identity as a Muslim and my right for freedom of believe.

I have to say that I am proud of being a Muslim in Britain, proud of being British. The UK has took a sensible stand when the Danish cartoons were published few years ago, and today it is taking the same stand, which is good, but not good enough. As a British citizen I take pride that the UK championed the abolishment of slavery in the 19^th century and went to a world war defending freedom, human values and fighting fascism. So a nation with such history should do more than abstaining, we should take a firm stand.

I need you to help, as a friend, as a fellow British citizen and as a Human. I am sure you are asking yourself: “what do you want me to do, Ahmad?” I can say a lot, but at least you can do me two favours:

Talk to your friends, family and colleague sharing this view. Saying that you know some good Muslims (that’s me, I hope) and they are “Humans” - just like us-, have feelings! Saying that I know Muslims who are really hurt by this and this should not be allowed to continue. Saying that there is a difference between expressing your opinion and insulting others.

You can take this a step further and right to your Councillor, MP, MEP, or even David Cameron the PM.

This is probably the first time I am asking you a favour, please do not let me down.

Regards,

Ahmad

Say no to Martians....

Since NASA announced its recent mission to Mars i have been deeply worried that they might succeed this time in finding new life there. The idea of others sharing this universe with us is so disturbing, at least for me.

I look at our current state as humans dwelling on this planet and feel so sad and angry. This feeling is not helped by my addiction to the 24/7 news channels. Same disturbing stories are repeated every hour of the day: famine, diseases, civil wars, ethnic cleansing, mass murders, and crisis everywhere! All this with only one intelligent life around, why would you look for another!

You might say that i am pessimistic and a lot of people do not share my pessimism. Well i know for a fact that my dark view is the common view; i am not the exception. When the professionals tried to imagine new lives on other planet they only came up with Aliens, Star War, Star Trek, Apollo 18, Independence Day and so on... I can not think of any Hollywood movie - apart from some erotic ones- that paints a nice picture of the extraterrestrial life, it is always blood thirsty war mongers scary creatures who are worse than us.

You may argue that we can hope that they might be better and we could learn new things from them! Well, judging by our desires to learn I bet you the first thing we will learn is how to make these fancy laser guns! How we could build better fighter jets, and how we we can kill all our fellow humans with a press of a button.

So far i am relieved that they have found nothing, because as it is, this universe is not big enough for us humans, so Martians stay in hiding as we do not want you!
I am going to start a petition to say Martians you are not welcomed...