ضد الحزن فيني فرح مخزون

In this beautiful and spiritual time of the year.  I wish you all a very happy 3eed, with your family and loved ones.

I packed my weekend bag(s),  looking forward to a peaceful time spent in RAK away from all the traffic and the busy to-do-lists.

The Dead Man Who Wore Pajamas

A beautiful story written by Paulo Coelho

"I remember reading a piece of news on the Internet that a man was found dead in Tokyo on 10 June 2004, dressed in his pajamas.

So what? I imagine that most people who die wearing their pajamas either a) died in their sleep, which is a blessing, or b) were in the company of their relatives or on a hospital bed – death did not come quickly, so they all had time to grow used to “the undesirable one,” as Brazilian poet Manuel Bandeira called it.

The news goes on: when he died, he was in his room. So, the hospital hypothesis is out and we are left with just the possibility that he died in his sleep, without suffering any, without even realizing that he would not see the light of day.

But there is still another possibility: assault followed by death.

Those who have visited Tokyo know that the gigantic city is at the same time one of the safest places in the world. I remember once stopping to eat with my editors before taking a trip to the interior of Japan – all our suitcases were in sight on the rear seat of the car. Immediately I said that it was very dangerous, someone was sure to come along, see all those bags and make off with our clothes, documents and so on. My editor just smiled and told me not to worry – he knew of no such incident in all his long years of life (in fact, nothing happened to our suitcases, although I kept tense all through dinner).

But to return to our dead man in pajamas: there was no sign of struggle, violence or anything of the sort. In an interview, a Metropolitan Police officer stated that it was almost certainly a case of a sudden heart attack. So the hypothesis of homicide was also eliminated.

The body had been found by workers of a construction company on the second floor of a building in a housing complex that was about to be torn down. Everything led to the idea that the dead man in the pajamas, unable to find anywhere to live in one of the most densely and expensive cities in the world, had simply decided to settle where he did not have to pay any rent.

And now for the tragic part of the story: our dead man was only a skeleton dressed in pajamas. At his side was an open newspaper dated 20 February 1984; a calendar on the table nearby gave the same date.In other words, he had been there for twenty years.

And nobody had noticed his absence.

The man was identified as a former employee of the company that had built the housing complex, where he had moved to in the early 80s soon after his divorce. He was just over fifty years on the day that all of a sudden, reading the newspaper, he left this world.

His ex-wife never sought for him. It was discovered that the company where he worked had gone bankrupt right after the building had been finished, since no apartment was sold, and so they did not find it odd that the man never turned up for his daily activities. His friends were looked up, and they put his disappearance down to the fact that he had borrowed some money and could not pay it back.

The news ends informing us that the mortal remains were delivered to the ex-wife. I finished reading the article and wondered at the last sentence: the ex-wife was still alive, and for twenty years had not even looked up her husband. What must have gone through her head? That he no longer loved her, that he had decided to remove her for ever from his life. That he had met another woman and disappeared without a trace. That life is like that, once the divorce procedures are over there is no point in carrying on a relationship that has been legally terminated. I imagine what she must have felt upon finding out the fate of the man with whom she had shared a good part of her life.

Then I thought of the dead man in his pajamas, of solitude so utter and abysmal that for twenty years nobody in this whole wide world had realized that he had simply disappeared without leaving a trace. And my conclusion is that worse than feeling hunger and thirst, worse than being jobless, suffering for love, in despair over some defeat – worse than all this is to feel that nobody, absolutely nobody in this world, cares for us.

Let us at this moment say a quiet prayer for this man and let us offer him our thanks for making us reflect on how important our friends are." 

This post is dedicated from me to all my friends, my best friends, my parents, my family, my colleagues & my loyal readers.  Those who remind me that my existence is a blessing in their life. 

In A Peaceful State of Mind

If only meetings are like this all the time. I drove to our gorgeous Yas Island this morning for a business meeting. After all the protocols Yada yada yada, we took a boat trip around the island. I shamefully say, it's my first time to go in a boat ride in my city at least. God, day by day I'm more convinced that there are so many things we should do in our day, however we shield ourselves under the roof of our house or work, thinking "well, I'll find time to do it one day" I'm just afraid that "one" day it's too late to do anything.
Live happy.

The 200th

Snow, Aldo

By Kate DiCamillo

"Once, I was in New York,
in Central Park, and I saw
an old man in a black overcoat walking
a black dog. This was springtime
and the trees were still
bare and the sky was
gray and low and it began, suddenly,
to snow:
big fat flakes
that twirled and landed on the
black of the man's overcoat and
the black dog's fur. The dog
lifted his face and stared
up at the sky. The man looked
up, too. "Snow, Aldo," he said to the dog,
"snow." And he laughed.
The dog looked
at him and wagged his tail.

If I was in charge of making
snow globes, this is what I would put inside:
the old man in the black overcoat,
the black dog,
two friends with their faces turned up to the sky
as if they were receiving a blessing,
as if they were being blessed together
by something
as simple as snow
in March"

Memiors of a Day

As we were about to leave the place. Another car parked across the street. A lady I would assume in her late twenties was driving an SUV. She was waiting for her kids to cross the street from our side. They were 2 boys and a girl. My dad noticed how energetic the kids were, so he stopped. Put on the signal to show the speeding cars to slow down while those kids were running to their mom.

The boy and the girl passed the street. A second later, my mom echoed screams and dad's strong horn made me freeze in my seat. The third kid was hit by a speeding car right in front of us.....

12 hours earlier.......

Since Ramadan ended, I haven't had a single weekend. I wake up at 6:30 everyday, sometimes a bit earlier and sometimes I indulge in a few minutes more before I hit the shower, or just switch on the dvd and watch something to gradually have the well to go out of bed.

Yesterday, and for the first time, I was able to sleep until it was 10. How fabulous! I woke up. My family were all here. Perfect! that means breakfast with them. Mama's usual attempts to make "traditional" ryooog & dad's comments over whatever he reads in the newspaper. And my brothers whom are busy with their own gadgets.

In the lunch time, we gathered around mom's machboos, I took the courtesy to tell them my January plans, gym plans, riding plans, summer plans and post everything plan. Few laughs that is followed by: "Ya Baba, one thing at a time"

Afternoon, I disappeared in my room to catch up on my TV shows. Oh and did I mention, I became an addict to iTunes purchasing! It's so much fun.

After Maghreb prayer, I packed my Ipod & camera we went to AlAin. The more peaceful side of Abu Dhabi. My attempt to make Chai-7leeb was a huge success. We reached Mbazzarah. I folded my leggings and tangled my feet in that River of Gold. The water was extreemly hot, I couldn't bear few seconds and lifted my feet again. I continued doing that until It was time to leave.

And that's when It happend

Dad opened the car's door, ran to the kid who was laying on the ground. I heard dad screaming at the driver: "Ma tshooof??"

Only god's miracle made the kid stand up and run to his mom. She was literally expressionless! The kid had few scratches over his face but that was it.  Thank god for my mom's quick mind-processing of what just happened in front of her. She rushed to the kid and his mom, she hugged the kid and started wiping his little face with cold water.

Accidents take mere seconds to happen.  Whether they injure us or they don't.  They are printed in our memories so vividly.

و يعز من يشاء

" This encounter would crystalize in my memory - almost into a mythological moment that I could return to and visit in present tense whenever I wanted or needed its message.  I see the sports car in front of me just as if it's today, circling in slow motion, with the whirring sound of that unbelievably powerful engine as it idles, waiting and purring like a lion about to pounce." Chris Gardner of his book The Pursuit of Happyness

That first encounter with Chris and the Red Ferrari owner made him realize what the power of information meant.  As a homeless, single parent and uneducated person, he bluntly asked: What do you do? 
The Ferrari guy answered him: "A stockbroker"


My part of the story is little different.

It was the F1 day race in Abu Dhabi.  I was standing in front of The Yas Hotel door waiting for my friend to come.  The creme of the crop of people were coming and going,  riding their one of its kind cars, wearing the most luxurious garments and looking their best.  I was looking around, half blinded of the sun reflecting over the cars and straight into my eyes.  for a little girl physically and emotionally to be around such a surrounding.  I was just thinking, my education & my job; brought me here.  And this is just the beginning.

The Princess & The Frog

Once upon a dead end.  A princess fell for a frog.  A frog thought he has it all.  He had his pride, and that what made him look so powerful.  The princess thought her life would be complete when the frog is all hers.  Neglecting the fact whether he was good for her.  She prayed for god to bring them closer, to make him feel her affection.

The frog didn't come.

Day after day, the princess counted all the signs god has given her and realized:

The frog will always be a frog. 

Sigh

It's the internal pain you feel. Take a deep breath and you will feel your heart weakening half the way through the sigh. Yes! here it is, right there.  Just stop.  Take another deep breath,  force your face muscles to form a smile.  No, not that crocked smile.  A better one please.

Few weeks back, I was having a conversation with a dear someone.  He said: Life is so unfair, & then he concluded: "No one can look at his life and say, mine is perfect"

It got me frustrated.  I looked at him with all the anger I could manage to show: " Your family are okay? You are perfectly healthy, You work, you have good education, everyone "y3iz" 3alaik is fine"

Then were is the Not perfect part of your life?

We seemed to drift away from the true meaning of happiness and attached it to probably the only obstacle we have in our life, and then we said our life is missing.  Look at the big picture my friends. Look at the dimensions of your life. You brought up in a completely safe country, you have great parents and loveable surrounding. 

So what if work gets hectic, if we get a cold or a sore ankle.  Should we put a Stop sign on our door and dwell?

My mom travelled to my grandma and aunties.  I couldn't because of my weekend course which I enrolled in. I decided to call grandma and hear her voice atleast.  I heard her Sigh and say: "lel2asaf Ya Binty Mantee Ma3ana"

These few words sent me in a river of tears, knowing how much I miss her, how much I love having breakfast with her, that simple platter of Labneh and Cucumber, that mug filled with hearty Chai-7leeb taste like.  Everything is different.  When those people in your life are fine.  You should raise your hands to the sky and left out a sigh that murmers: "Thank You God"

Hit The Target

"En damat le '3airak, ma we9letak Al7een"  The radio people should really work harder to pick encouraging songs every morning. 

That half an hour drive every morning gets me thinking about such issues.  Opportunities for instance. How do we define anything we go through is an opportunity.  As something, if we miss, we should really really regret.

We may see education as an opportunity, others see work as another opportunity. And of course our mothers see the mirage of a new guy coming in as an "opportunity". 

Well, everyone with his own mindset.

lots of phrases are thrown here and there that somehow should encourage us to look and find our golden opportunity.  Phrases like: " Go for it", "Don't miss out on anything", "if you don't catch it, somebody will"

I think, "You Create Your Own" is the best.  But how easy to say, how hard to follow.


P.s when in Doubt just trust your Gut.  It will tell you whether this opportunity is worth it or not.  Be confident and have faith in God, that no matter what comes into your life  it's either a stepping stone of failure or the first step on the ladder of success and happiness. Knowing that failures is not bad, it create innovation at the end.


*Dedicated to my Muse: Mzmz