Wednesday 6 May 2009

Just a Wish...

I want to be very, very, rich. Like filthy rich, like disgustingly rich, like outrageously rich...And with good reason.

I am not one to believe that there is glory in poverty...there is none.
But then I don't believe there is glory in riches might as well be rich.

I want to become, be, very rich because my secret intention is to become an altruistic, anonymous, philanthropist. Yes, this is my ambition.

I would be a liar if I claimed that it is devoid of any selfish ends...There are some personal considerations that come into account here. Like very petty and very personal...that have nothing to do with the higher, collective good...

One of these petty quirks, is my love for Italian shoes and I would like to purchase as many as my heart desires...Another is a specially designed (by me) red wedding dress and the third and last is a trip to a few countries...countries I have always dreamt of visiting before I pass on to the other side...

In no order of priority :

- A visit to Cuba before the Americans take over. Bid my respects to Fidel Castro, enjoy a few Cohiba cigarillos, and perfect my Salsa steps.

- Another one is a visit to India. In particular, the Taj Mahal in Agra, all of Rajastan and spend a couple of nights on a floating boat in Kashmir.

- Argentina - Bueno Aires. This one is mainly prompted by my love for Tango. And I need to learn the proper steps, none of this hocus pocus that goes under the name of Tango and is devoid of soul. I want to be where it's at.

- The beaches of Mombassa in Kenya. I saw pictures of them and I think they are just amazingly beautiful.

and last and most probably least - A prayer in Occupied Jerusalem...

I am tempted to add the Mojave desert, Arizona and California. But something about America repels me despite my great admiration for Native American maybe I will leave that one on hold for now...

So really, when you come to think about it, my secret desires are not terribly grandiose...

It is not like am into fur coats (yikes), diamonds (ugh) and huge limos that look like trains...
I am not into real estate, mansions and castles...I am not into more clothes (except for the Italian shoes), am not into cars, am not into boats, or private planes, or the jet set scene. All this stuff does not impress me...none of it matters to me. Except my few quirks, above.

So what will I do with this grotesque sum of money ?

I will become a philanthropist.

How so ? I will dedicate my time and money to what matters to me most...

In order of priority :

- Iraq's orphans. I never want to see a street kid in Iraq, ever again. I don't want to see them selling garbage bags and bubble gum, begging, pleading, crying, being abused, being trafficked, sold, bought...I don't want to see them sleeping in alley ways, I don't want to see them fearful, lost and abandoned no more...Iraq's children are mine. They are Her future and they are mine too...

- Iraq's prostitutes. I do not wish to see one more girl/woman/mother selling herself for crumbs...ever again. I don't want to see them in cabarets, in night clubs, on street curbs, in hotel lobbies, in sleazy bars...I don't want to see them offering their bodies, the body of my Beloved, for a few dollars...No, no and no.
The Body of my Beloved is not for sale.

- Iraq's widows. No woman will sleep on a street pavement anymore, living off hand outs, carrying her life in some plastic bag, showing pictures of her old self in some home, telling a stranger - see, this was me...that was my family, that was my home...

- Iraq's cancer patients. Quadrupled courtesy of the "first" world. No more hospital wards that look like dormitories, waiting rooms, for Death to finally visit. No more - we don't have the medication for you, go and buy it yourself. No more hearing - I beg you, help me, help my son, daughter, husband, wife...
Damn it, if you really have to die, it must be done in dignity, in all the proper conditions. You were born in the proper conditions, you were chosen (not necessarily by your own parents though) to be conceived and born - that is a proper condition, so if you have to go, it must be done the same way you were initially conceived. For God conceived you in Dignity.

Let me see what else I want to do with my money...

- Pollution. I am sick and tired of seeing people pollute nature, in particular sea shores. The Sea is my Mother. Stop throwing your junk into her. She will vomit you out once, twice, thrice...but the shores are tired of you as well. I don't want to see your fucking plastic bags, soda cans, tissues, cigarette butts, condoms, aluminium wraps, on any sea shore ever again. The Sea's water is there to baptize and purify you have to soil it with your own junk ? She takes in your mental and emotional junk and washes it away with each of her ebb and flow, but do you really have to soil her with more of your own waste ?
My money will be devoted to keep the Sea and her shores (in this part of the world) clean of you.

- Aspiring artists (again in this part of the world). Writers, musicians, painters, dancers...some of them have great talent, great inspiration and an even greater calling...They are not connected to anyone, to anyone big, they struggle daily to give you and I, Beauty under its many forms...My money will go to them as well...

My, I must be very, very, rich to do all of the above.

What the Hell, I can think, dream -- big. It's just a Wish...
And as the proverb goes - if Wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

And am riding on a...Wish.

Translation of the Lyrics :

I return to the South
like one always returns to the love,
I return to you ,
with my longing, with my anxiety.

I carry the South
like a destiny of my heart,
I am from the South
like the melodies of the bandoneon.

I dream of the South,
a huge moon, the sky reversed,
I am looking for the South
the open time, and its thereafter.

I love the South,
its good people, its dignity,
I feel the South,
like I feel your body in intimacy.

I love you South,
South, I love you.

I return to the South
like one always returns to the love,
I return to you
with my longing, my anxiety.

I love the South,
its good people, its dignity,
I feel the South
like I feel your body in intimacy.
I return to the South,
I carry the South,
I love you South,
I love you South..

Painting : Iraqi artist, Jaber Alwan.