Thursday, July 26, 2012

Yet another Lebanon-inspired cliche

What's the point of bikinis and Jack Daniels in my closet?
Rave parties for teenagers and Miriam Klink for the tired?
What's the point of bars and clubs and champagne at the pool
before noon? Secret lovemaking and certain types of cigarettes
that burn like the inner thighs of the earth? What's the point of clapping
in airplanes and getting along during turbulence?

Festivals and music halls and dim bars in Hamra where the bartender
is my cousin. What's the point of eighteen religions, let's just stop calling them
sects shall we, and five different languages tap dancing
along a toddler's tongue? Gorgeous mothers swinging
high heels and men who never age. Switzerland or Paris twin sisters
to a few streets. Only a few streets. An old chapel rubbing shoulders
with an ancient mosque. Elderly balconies of stone houses as grey as wars
and peace treaties. What's the point of a nation conceived
along a Mediterranean coast where the blue glitters
like the eyes of young fishermen? Apple trees or orange blossoms
silver green olive leaves or almond flowers
blushing like newborn brides? And rows and rows and rows

of oleander trees? Have you seen the oleander trees? I bet you never noticed
like me. I bet you never noticed.

Like me. Busy keeping my head down, my blistered feet skipping the broken bits
in the streets, I'm watching out for the holes, like bullet scars
in the body of a war torn building, like open wounds in a body that never heals,
but instead invites more disease. More and more and more disease.

How else will it know it is still alive?


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS!

Sukoon is an (English) online literary magazine reflecting the diversity and richness of the Arab world.


Sukoon is an online literary magazine, the first of its kind in the Arab region, where accomplished and emerging poets and writers of short stories and personal essays publish their original work in English. Writers need not be Arab or of Arab origin, but all writing must reflect the diversity and richness of the cultures of the Arab world.
Sukoon is an Arabic word meaning "stillness." By stillness we don't mean silence, but rather the opposite of silence. What we mean by Sukoon is the stillness within found only when the artist follows his/her inner calling to express and create; a calling that compels the artist to continue on his/her creative path for the sole reason that she/he doesn't know how not to.

WE ARE NOW IN THE PROCESS OF COLLECTING SUBMISSIONS for our first issue out in Spring 2012!


For poetry please send up to 3 poems to poetry@sukoonmag.com

For short stories and personal essays please send one story and/or essay to story@sukoonmag.com

We look for compelling, unique pieces that surprise and amuse.
We prefer poetry that does NOT rhyme.

Don't be afraid to make us uncomfortable.



*All submitted work must not have been previously published elsewhere, unless it is part of an already published book or anthology.*

(website still under construction)





Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Oops I did it again


(Lunch hour, corporate life, somewhere in Dubai)

"I'd met this girl who really changed me. I've become a better person. I've never been the same since I met her."

"Oh, wow, great, are you still together?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, I hope you'll find someone like her soon."

"There's no one like her.  I'll never find anyone like her I know it."

Silence. Nobody at the table says anything.  More salad chewing and water sipping.

"So... Why did you break up?  Sorry I know I'm nosy like that, but you can totally refrain from answering,"

"There was no future."

"What do you mean?"  I ask, and I already know what's coming.

"We're not the same religion.  There's no future."

Everyone at the table nods in agreement.  All I manage is, "Oh."

But then of course, I couldn't shut my face.  I had to say something more.

"So you left each other because of religious differences?  But you love the girl right?"

"umm.... well... lovED. Not anymore.  We were together 5 years.  I was 17 anyway. Too young and then after 5 years we realized, what are we doing?!"

"ahuh... I see.. loved. ok."  Of course I wanted to ask if he regretted it, if he thinks what he did was the stupidest thing he's ever done, if he'd rather go back in time just to have one more moment with her, if he could go back would he do it all differently.  Of course I never asked those things. But somehow maybe he read my mind.  My very loud and (apparently) awful, liberal mind.

"She's gotten married. So anyway it doesn't matter anymore."

Of course.  Too late.  And there's really nothing worse than too late.

I did it again.  I found myself yapping on and on in the middle of a conversation about relationships and break ups and, here it comes, the r-word: religion.  That man-made fictionalized invention that is supposed to make us "better" people. 

Like a traffic light makes us better poeple because there's no way we could figure out our own safety and what it means to be organized, on our own. Like stoning women makes us better people, like confessions at the church makes us better people, only till the next time we mess it all up again. Like punishment and fear and separation makes us better people.  

J. Swift said it best when he said,  "We have enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another."

And my rant will go on.

Friday, December 30, 2011

'Tis the Season to be... Horrified?

For the longest time Christmas, to me, felt like Valentines for singles.  Why?  It's not important.  Lately though, I've moved away from this grumpy sentiment to more jolly-ness and ho-ho-ho's.  Why?  It's not important either.

What's important is that Christmas comes around once a year, every year, as is the tradition, only to remind us, that more churches will be blown apart in some parts of the world, more people will refuse to say Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and more will be killed for that thing called faith.

But of course that is not why I am jolly.

A friend argued the other day that he doesn't believe in religion.  As in, he doesn't believe they need to exist because apparently, their existance is what is making the world a horrid place to live in.  If no religion existed, he believes, people would live in peace and harmony forever AND EVER after.

True? I wouldn't know. Religion has existed since time immemorial in some form or another.  Plus, people manage to find something to squabble over anyway.  If not religion, it's politics.  If not politics, it's economics.  If it's not economics, it's gender roles, if it's not gender roles, it's cuisines! Yes, cuisines.  Some of us argue over the concept of Lebanese cuisine and whether this "cuisine" is actually a cuisine and how dare them Lebanese sloths claim something is Lebanese when it's clearly a descedent of some Greek, Turkish, Arab or Jewish dish.  Plus, why are Lebanese acting all exclusive about it? It's Arabic food isn't it??

No.

Anyway, so we don't actually blow each other to pieces (as much as we'd like to) over cuisines. Fair enough. But what is it about religion truely that makes us lose our minds the way we do?  And then there are those faithful ones who blame the people and not religion itself for being the culprits.  You know, the whole a- knife-is-not-a-knife-it-depends-on-how-you-use-it metaphor.  To peel an orange, or a person's skin?

ouch. where did that image come from.

And then somehow I found myself in the middle of a conversation about passports.  About whether I would do away with my Lebanese passport if I was forced to in order to keep my other "western" passport.  I immediately found myself saying yes! I would! I would give it up in a blink!

And a minute later, of course, the guilt set in.  I never thought I'd say that.  Never thought I'd give away my very own homeland "identity" for another. After all the good things that my homeland has provided me with, as a citizen with "rights" and "long-term goals", the best one was the airline to leave.  But we all know it's not that simple.

And then I woke up this morning and read this (about stoning an iranian woman but then changing the punishment to hanging):

Mohammad Javad Larijani, secretary-general of the Iranian High Council for Human Rights, argued in December that stoning should not be classified as a method of execution but rather a method of punishment which is actually more "lenient" because half of the people survive, the U.N. quoted him as saying.

Ok, so I'm not Iranian, but as long as they survive, right? I mean who wants to be hanged if they have the option of survival after being stoned (almost) to death? "Good quality living," that's what I say.  And thank goodness I work in advertising or else I wouldn't have been able to come up with that snappy line, huh?

Huh??

Sweet America, on the other hand, took in Yemeni Mr. Saleh for medical treatment. Don't it make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?  Such noble moves.

I have no idea what I'm trying to say in this note and perhaps you've already noticed.  So I'll try to wrap up.

We have a long way to go before we get back to living under the laws of the jungle where all things "savage" and "offensive" were nothing but harmonious and natural and sure as heck makes more sense than whatever it is we like to call our civilized living.

The cherry on top:  In Texas, a man dressed in a Santa Claus suit apparently shot six relatives and himself on Christmas.

Amen.

Monday, November 14, 2011

O is for OSHO

I think I'll start blogging about my journey with Osho.

Who the hell is Osho?   Good question.  I've been reading his books for almost two years now and I remember being HORRIFIED when I first began.  A good friend lent me "The God Conspiracy."  That was the beginning and, I thought back then, the end.  A few pages into it and I was done. Thank you very much.  I was done because I wasn't ready.  I wasn't ready to have everything I ever believed in or thought I believed in shot down and contradicted one paragraph at a time.  And I thought I was "open minded!"  The irony of that "belief" still cracks me up.

Osho made me very uncomfortable because that's what he wanted to do, make every single belief system seem outrageous. It's also exhausting to read his books, not because they are hard to decipher, on the contrary they are very plain and simple, but because sometimes you just want to sit there and believe, and defend your beliefs because you believe in them so very much, because it's that much easier not to keep questioning.

It's exhausting to keep questioning, and doubting, and contradicting.  But it's also divine.  And a must.  Simply the science and art of the inner.

My ultimate question though is the following:  Why can't it ALWAYS be Autumn in Dubai? 

Not relevant?  Why not??

Ok, so I've read a few books after "The God Conspiracy," and have yet to go back to it.  I will.

I'm now reading "freedom- The Courage to Be Yourself."   Notice the "f" in freedom is not capitalized.   hmmmmm??????????   It's a wonderful third eye opener.  And I'll be sharing my wonder with you soon.

So here we are. Beginning in the middle.  Jump.