To My Friend

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My friend Shehab and me as children. This photo was captured around 25 years ago in Egypt.

A wise person once said, ‘a poem is the expression of ideas and feelings in a language no one uses, because no one talks in verse’. Explains why I chose poetry   to share my learnings and lessons of the last decade with my dear friend Shehab. As for the actual content, the worth of words solely depends on their interpretation. 

My soul-friend
Special without end
Asked that I share
from my heart
in any form or art
the lessons of my last decade.

I only hope
my moody memory
will cope
and retrieve
and not disappoint.

He suggested I capture
in my own words
my most pivotal moments
(anonymously if I prefer)
And speak of teachers
whose great impact
and profound tact
gifted me back
a wiser version
of this person
I call me.

Where should I begin?
What should I write?
I wish I had an inkling
What if I miss something?
There is so much inside
Does it even matter
I imagine he would ask,
The point is to start
Set fear aside.

Shall I mention
For example –
My first painful lesson
with lying and liars
How I was warned
they existed
but was never convinced
what was said was true
Who knew, that one day
I would be misled
and that sick fabrications
and shaky exaggerations
could reach me, then cheat me
Only to find out
after multiple breakages
in my heart
With child-like disappointment
and inward torment
There is no doubt –
Lying and liars are real
Like thieves
they steal
They rob us of
our basic right
to choose and appeal
Being lied to is a huge deal.

I learnt –
From my teacher, Liar
To forgive
To empathize
with the fragile and suicidal
the victimized son of a miser
With the pathological denier
The solitary crier
With the lonely
and mentally ill
The man with a swaying will
With vices that kill
I now realize
that each lie
was a desperate cry
to disguise
To distract my eyes
from his real life
his shame and blame
In the end
I forgave
his lying disgrace
But in the process
I purposely erased
his cowardly face.

Shall I mention
For example –
Aspects of my life I wish were omitted
The life-altering mistakes I committed
driven by excitement and allure
in the name of forbidden love,
complex but pure
Or to top it all off
the exact opposite of the above –
In the name of safe conventionality
and a so-called love that is secure
Knowing deep down
that in both scenarios I chose wrong
but taking so damn long
to stand up
wanting to test my limit
or maybe push theirs to the summit
To my dismay
I lost my way
But I must admit
I never lost my wit.

I learnt –
From my teacher, Regret
Some love stories have to end
I am just sorry I caused some pain
Something I did not intend
I learnt to accept the blame
How about my pain?
I learnt not to complain
Love is anything
but a winning or losing game
I learnt from Regret –
Impossible love (wrong or right)
seems like everything
but everything it is not
Neither is love in checklists
of those insecure (expensive suit) types
who seem like classy princes
In real life, total misfits.

Shall I mention
For example –
How learning Italian
introduced me to the best of love
To another world from above
How Italy became my vitality
How one Italian
gave me the most special gift
the one on my Enlightenment List
the one I saved myself for
Carved out of verses
of passionate poetry
with a musical flow and more
Pieces of Salento
inscribed intimately
with the sweetest words
with the most tender urge
(No wonder they say love hurts)
A relationship built on trust
immune to rust, and dust
An original, one thousand percent
Except –
trust alone was not enough
to maintain and sustain
a love from afar
I longed for a deeper sensation
A solid plan not a vacation
but it never came
Maybe I am to blame
for my indecision
Maybe he didn’t know
how to really listen
I waited for a stronger connection
but I waited in vain
Even his gentle words
seemed almost gruff
or crumbled
hardly mattered
when life got tough.

I learnt –
From my teacher, Love
How to recognize my own clarity
The importance of considering practicality
That love has to be shown actively
almost frantically
How not to settle
and become fickle
How I must, hush
that disturbing noise
How to listen and trust
that soothing voice
inside of me
To bring it out
and strangle self-doubt
I learnt –
Even if love has been tested
and proven to be trusted
If love doesn’t feel right
and doesn’t grip me tight
or keep me safe at night
It is perhaps wise
to say goodbye
before romance withers and dies
Lest our hearts go dry.
 
Shall I mention
For example –
How I befriended walking
and along the way
I stumbled upon running
even sprinting
A bit of martial arts
and serious muscle-building
How I discovered the secrets
of health and fitness
How no one saw it coming
Shall I mention –
How through running
and long-distance walking
I was brought closer to heaven
How – through the magic of them
I discovered and uncovered
The strength of my mind
The resilience of my body
How – through the power of my mind
I thrived
and felt high
How – through my energized body
I met my will
and had my fill
of success and confidence
How I made a pact
to push through
to never give up
to mindfully act
with knowledge
with courage
with discipline
and relentless endurance.

I learnt –  
From my teachers, Mind and Body
From my Hiking expeditions
From my (two! Yes two) Marathon achievements
One fact:
My mind is my God
and my body is its messenger.

Shall I mention
For example –
How traveling solo
inspired me, to let go
and outgrow
certain sensitivities
How it pushed me to forgo
pains that drain
From traveling I gained
a new perspective
I became reflective
More humanely attentive
I made life-long friends
even pen-pals (yes! Pen-pals)
from here, from there
and everywhere
I reconnected with nature
Questioned the danger
of the word ‘danger’
I became braver
Shall I also mention –
How I fell in love with new cultures
With rugged mountains, wild flowers
and free horses
that perfectly decorated Spain and Iceland
How I roamed the streets of Palestine
and for the first time
saw the child residing in my father
How I retraced his footsteps
and how now, I walk mine
How I discovered South America
How I was reborn in Patagonia
How I traveled all over Scandinavia
But found my Self in Roma’s Italia
How within months in New York
I did all the things I loved
I crossed over to 2013
Hand-in-hand
With a life-long friend of my teens
We talked endlessly
of prolonged silences and amends
It was more powerful than a thousand dreams
I danced my favourite dance Salsa
Pursued my childhood love for drama
I walked and I walked
through autumn and winter
I walked and I sought
till I finally found
my happy ground.

I learnt –
From my teacher, Travel
Not to wait
or procrastinate
How to read hidden signs
How to ignore the pounding of time
How to appreciate
the taste of red wine
and the sweetness and intrigue
of my own company
How to be free
Not to judge ‘me’
nor she or he
How to see
with newer eyes
How to be
without a disguise
How to be a gentler self-critic
but also, less and less egoistic
How to truly listen
to the rhythmic rustling
of every important tree
I learnt –
How through defining encounters
with unforgettable strangers
I was revealed to myself
and made an effort to know
the beautiful woman within me
The friend minus foe
with real potential to grow
I even learnt to respect
my dislikes and weaknesses
I learnt self-forgiveness
I emptied myself
of inherently damaging stuff.

Shall I mention
For example –
How quitting a high-flying job
among shrewd men and snobs
was something I couldn’t stop
or top!
For the first time
I saved some money
and rationally aligned
my heart with my mind
I trusted my vision
and made the finest decision
It couldn’t have been
more perfectly timed
It would have been a sin
to entertain procrastination
to float aimlessly in evasion
I left corporate familiarity
to unravel my creativity
I rolled up my sleeves
and darted towards
my dreams
I pursued
the very things
that fueled
my soul
I grasped my passions
(held on to them tightly)
of traveling
of writing
of dreaming
Yes, dreaming!

I learnt –
From my teacher, Passion
How to dream again
and keep dreaming
How to travel
and be a free spirit
how not to over-think it
How to prioritize self-awareness
and make room for wellness
How to be writer and a poet
A woman who can be inspired
How to make my passion
a craft
How to crown it
and own it
How to keep going
despite not knowing
what lies ahead
I learnt –
Self-trust
is a must.

Shall I mention
For example –
The seventeen deaths
I learned about
and yes, I counted
Seventeen within two years
the most heartbreaking I’ve ever seen
Seventeen before my father’s
of family friends
of my dear cousin
of my memorable aunt
of my childhood friend’s father
who couldn’t have been kinder
as yet another agonizing example
Not to mention –
a year and a half of hospital odours
of the distinctive smell of the bed-ridden Dying
What suffering!
And the sight of families breaking down
and eventually collapsing
Of helpless mothers and fathers crying
Shall I mention –  
Without discussing further
my own death?
Excuse me, I mean the painful passing
of my father.

I learnt –
From my teachers, Death and Dying
What true loss means
I lost many things in life
small, and many a time big
But nothing ever prepared me
for that one loss of all my years
at the forefront of all my fears
the unbearable sadness of all my griefs
I learnt –
What it really means
to feel the weight of grief
to ignore the stench it reeks
to lie in its darkness trying hard to breathe
To know that it can suddenly appear and disappear
To accept what I lose from it, and leave
To appreciate what I gain from it, and receive
I learnt –
To acknowledge what it actually did to me
when I stood close to the sick and dying
hearing them mumbling
lying in bed and sighing
To see their dwindling hope
in a hurry to elope
To be a witness of death
and see my biggest part
My One
take his last breath
To learn the art of prayer
and pray that my father
would miraculously recover
I learnt –
To reminisce
To truly miss
What it means to be paranoid, afraid, and anxious
What it feels like to be under extreme stress
To be in unfathomable sadness and distress
How to handle (the Death and Dying) memory flashes
To step away from fallen ashes
How to be strong and patient
To fight the demons of depression
To sit alone and smile at anguish
in a cunning attempt to conquer it
To be comfortable with silence
To recognize my real friends
The ‘through thick and thin’ ones
To ask when I need more affection
To find some kind of outlet
to ignite my drive to live
and somehow arrive at peace
You see –
Life is the way it is
We just have to let it be
We have to respect our destiny
and accept that we cannot flee
We lack the power to delay
or to even say:
Death and Dying, stay away.
 
As I near the end
of my last decade’s lessons
It is time I speak
of my unique
eternal friend.

Shall I mention –
How he is my friend
and has always been my friend
How I am sure he will always be
to the very end
How he was my childhood
and everything good
My first secret and fun times
My first memorable crush and listening ears
My first tingles and butterflies
My first fights and tears
My second decade’s temporary goodbye
which was stupid of us, and juvenile
Shall I mention –
How my beautiful friend
is a friend to all friends
The greatest of all friends
A soul-friend
in the truest sense
The purest of all men
Whose quietness
is unspoken wisdom
Whose calmness
is a Yoga kingdom
Whose qualities
are Zen
Whose strength
I commend
Whose curiosity
simply put – is so him
Whose kindness
is a Godsend
Whose high intelligence
never offends
Whose humility
never says ‘I’
Whose sincerity
is one of a kind
Whose happiness
is divine
Whose open smile
makes me want to fly
Whose decency
I swear by
On his loving friendship,
I depend.

I learnt –
From my teacher, Friend
How spirituality is inspirational
How paying attention is essential
How reading is sensational
How talking (without inhibitions) is transformational
How happiness is attainable
How celebrations are fundamental
How learning is beautiful
How a curious mind is unbeatable
How dreams are indispensable
How love is gentle
How when life is temperamental
the Self can be a friend
How death is not the end
How grief
no matter how deep
in time will surely mend
How authentic friendships will last
How trust is made out of glass
How true loyalty is steadfast.

This is to you, my friend
With heavenly love and the sun’s light
With everything that is bright and right.

This is to you, my friend
In celebration of a new start
In appreciation of poetry and art.

This is to you, my friend
In remembrance of our past.
In honour of our beating hearts.

I Empty Myself

 

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I empty myself
Of all my fears
The paralysis of all my years
The reasons for all my tears.

I empty myself
Of inner chaos
and self-doubt
I empty myself
Of secrets that I kept
Of decades that I spent
waiting like a weakling
for cowardice
to clear.

I empty myself
Of all the ‘shoulds’
and all the patronizing ‘musts’
Of all my useless ‘buts’
Their lessons about what is best
How I should dress
What I should say less
and not confess.

I empty myself of their obsession with success
The anxiety about a future they hardly possess
The superficiality they wear as garments
The very things I detest
I empty myself of all kinds of stress
I no longer want to impress
It is time I rest.

I empty myself of reoccurring thoughts
of words resembling everyone’s words
I empty myself of anything remotely absurd
Of conformity and social acceptance
Of ridiculous moral lessons
Of conventionality or unoriginality
Of grand plans
Of overrated choices
Of preaching voices
in my head
Of contradictory things
they have said
that could have easily been misread
That sometimes robbed me of my dreams
and made me doubt myself instead.

I empty myself
Of the art of wowing creation
I am so bored and tired
of constantly seeking inspiration
Enough tantalizing temptation
There is an overload of sensation
We are overly stimulated
and easily deflated
All in the name of proof
to show we exist
to flatter
and prove we matter.

I empty myself
Of networking
and connections
Of fake ties
Of meaningless attachments
that weigh me down.

I empty myself
Of self-inflicted crimes
Of self-compromise
or any kind of sacrifice
I want to live again.

Oh how I regret
Wasting my time
Living in fear
Waiting for it to disappear

I empty myself
I empty myself
Courage is finally here!

I see him

My sweetest father

I see him in faces of old men
I see him in morning coffees and newspapers
I see him in a father’s warmth
In light hearts and genuine friends
I see him in the grey smoke of lit cigarettes
I see him in the dawn of new mornings
In the rich language of his mother tongue
I see him in stylish suits, blue shirts and red ties
I see him in classic watches loosely worn
In gold-rimmed round glasses
In gardens, flowers and grasses
I see him in sunshine, sweet smiles and lovable people
I see him in birds that fly in pairs
I see him in learning, adding and subtracting
I see him in yoga postures and breathing meditations
I see him in philosophy
In thick books and highlighted sentences
In difficult words and witty sayings
I see him in tears, politics and sufferings
In dialogues seeking conclusions and justice
In unity, democracy and liberty
In understanding and equality
I see him in all sweet things
In honey, Arabic desserts and slightly sweetened tea
I see him in world maps and geography
I see him in endearing clumsiness and spilt coffees
I see him in little naps and childhood tickles and giggles
In big infectious smiles and hearty laughters
I see him in intrigued expressions and amused eyebrows
In curious looks of the innocent
I see him in Arabic music and old romantic songs
I see him in a soft and warm touch
In wide-open and giving hands
I see him in little notebooks and beautiful poetry
In difficult quotations, literature and complicated law books
I see him in my well-informed lawyer cousin
I see him in football matches
In tennis matches
Even wrestling matches of the eighties
I see him in semi-bald heads and white hair
I see him in kind words and generous gestures
In all kinds of endearments
I see him in all forms of giving
In all ways of living
I see him in every situation and impossible decision
In London’s streets
In cafes and parks
In brisk walking and saunas and steaming hot water
In warms scarves and classic striped pyjamas
I see him in backgammons and prayer beads
I see him in faith and religion
In readings of beautiful Koranic verses
I see him in written letters and brilliant prose
In sound advice and clever logic
I see him in old photos and unforgettable family holidays
I see him behind office desks engrossed in reading
I see him in bookshelves and ink pens, the black one
I see him in colognes and freshly shaven faces
I see him in my high hair bun (tabooz he called it)
In funny looking trimmed moustaches
I see him in all the greatest virtues of the world
In respect, pride and integrity
In hard core truth and honesty
I see him in my sister’s face
In her light eyes and fair skin
In her unique generosity and softness
I see him in my other sister’s knowledge and intelligence
In her opinions, purity and refinement
I see him in my mother’s angelic presence
In her special aura
In her open mindedness and forward thinking
In her sweetness and simplicity
In her compassion and empathy
I see him in everything that is universally exceptional
In fairness and finesse
In decency and duty
In love and loyalty
In freedom and fulfilment
In confidence and courage
In humility and hopefulness
I see him in the true meaning of inner-fulfilment
In the true feeling of self-acceptance
I see glimpses of him in my soul
I see parts of him in my actions
I see bits and pieces of him in my words
In my passions, in my reactions
In my name which he had chosen
I see all of him, all the time
In every city and every place
In every corner, in every spot
I see all of him, all the time
inside my heart, inside my mind
I see all of him, all the time
Whether I can handle it or not
I see all of him, all the time
In every minute, in every second
I see him
I see my father
All the time.

by Razan Abdul Majeed