A teardrop in the Dark...

I have my own personal ritual. Call it an instinctive custom, an honoring rite, an archaic tradition, call it what you like – but I never miss two occasions to remember and commemorate. Someone’s birth and someone’s death.

I find it rather fascinating, in a sort of simple way, that births are generally accompanied with tears of joy and deaths accompanied with tears of sadness.

Arrivals and departures produce the same physiological response.
Tears...water streaming down one’s face...

The water that washes, that bathes, that cleanses. The water that purifies. The water that quenches...

Without water we die. Without water, we are like an arid, barren land...

Without water, no spring and no renewal are possible.

Water – the rivers, the lakes, the seas, the rain...all is contained in a teardrop.

Day of Birth, Day of Death, the same drops...Different feelings but the same drop.

And our life’s path is made of nothing but drops. Drop by drop. Drops in an ocean.

We come and we go, leaving drops behind us...

My father has been gone for some years now. I always remember the day he died and the day he was born. On both occasions, I make sure to offer a prayer and light a candle.

It’s always a touching emotional moment. And in that moment, a whole life time, a whole relationship is encapsulated, frozen in a teardrop.

I make it a point to follow that same rite for all those who have departed and touched my life, one way or another. I remember their day of birth and their day of death.

And in such a ritual, the teardrop is one and the same. There is no more duality in that instant. Birth and death become one.

It is a weird, strange sort of sensation.

The Cartesian, rational mind says “ what is the point of celebrating someone’s birthday if this person is dead ?“

The "rational" mind only comprehends reason, points, references, proofs, logic, rationality, linear thinking...

It is hard for the rational mind to understand birth and death being one tear, one cry, one breath.

But the Heart understands. It knows, as it has always known...

The Heart knows everything there is to know about a teardrop...A tear drop shining like a bright candle in the Dark.


Painting: Iraqi female artist, Dalia Mohammed - "Birth", 2005.

Fragilidad /Sting.

Soothing...

A latin jazzy version of the traditional Iraq song "Fog Al Nakhal" by Ilham Al-Madfai. The original is by Nazem Al-Ghazali here . And this is the Italian version by Franco Battiato

From behind a Screen.

I have not been to the movies in ages. I used to love going to the movies, but was quite finnicky about which film to watch. I can't stand action films, and nonsense films...and most American films are nonsense.

I've stopped watching anything American since ages. It's just sensationalist film making that appeals to either your death instinct, adrenaline production through fright, or crude libidinal pulsions...

The acting is "flat" so are the actors and actresses - pretty, botoxed faces with six packs and tight bodies. You hardly see wrinkles, fatigue, fat...or any real struggle.

Very boring for me as a Middle Easterner. American films provide absolutely nothing to identify or relate to, hence their message for me is non existent. I am not even sure, American films, Hollywood style, have a true message to convey. So American films are out for me and they've been out for many years. I can't remember when was the last time I actually watched an American film. (except for the De.Palma "Redacted". But then, I've seen the real version)

But I do love the movies. However, I find it quite irritating that most cinemas offer buckets of popcorn, coke, ice cream and the rest...Here you are trying to get into a good film where the producer has worked his ass off trying to send a message your way, and you hear the munching of popcorn, the paperwrap of ice cream cones, the sucking of straws and the jiggling of ice cubes...very annoying. If I were a film producer, I'd be very insulted...

So going to the cinema is out for me, unless I choose a time of the day where I am sure I am literally alone or with a strict minimum of people in the movie theater...no fucking popcorn around.

I don't own a DVD player or a Video player, so I can't watch much at home either.
And watching a DVD on my computer is a no no. Films are made to be experienced, not be watched on a laptop.

OK I may be a little difficult when it comes to films, I do agree.

But this last week, I had the pleasure of watching not one but three films. R is away for a week and she said I can use her DVD while she's away. So I got three pirated copies (the only ones I can afford- sorry WIPO) of the following films.

Caramel- by Nadine Labaki - Lebanese Female Producer
The Yacoubian Building - by the Egyptian Imad Adeeb producer, and based on the novel by the great Alaa Al-Aswany. The book is an ABSOLUTE MUST.
and the third film for this week was Lemon Tree - by Eran Riklis, the Israeli producer and the unbeatable Palestinian actress Hiam Abbass.

Now these are films I can relate to.

Caramel is set in Beirut in a hair dressing saloon where 5 lebanese women work, and this candid film is touching. It deals with the lives of these 5 women in post war Beirut, their hopes, aspirations, disappointments, sexuality, family lives...and love

The Yacoubian Building is a masterpiece and received many awards. It deals with Egypt in the 90's, social classes, sexuality, religion, gender relations, politics... A real tour de force in my opinion and an absolute must see.

Lemon Tree is another remarkable film to watch. Hiam Abbass is a stupendous actress. No botox there, no make up, a real life character, a Palestinian woman, a widow who owns a lemon grove, her only wealth. Next door moves the Israeli minister of Defense...And I will not tell you the rest...A film about land, fences, walls, women, men, Israelis, Palestinians, love and fear...A subtle and delicate film. A must see.

Now these are films I can recognize myself in, relate to, identify with...Not some shitty Terminator, shooting away people-kind of film, or some gangster movie that antes up your cortisol level...or some sentimental, mushy, tear jerking, meaningless, hocus-pocus, romance story, à l'Americaine.

Real stories, with complex characters in their own simplicity, derived from Reality, my Reality as an Arab Woman.

Now that's my kind of movie.