Just writing

Cockroaches And Butterflies

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“If you kill a cockroach, you are a hero; if you kill a butterfly, you are evil. Morals have aesthetic criteria.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche


Sometimes, one can’t comprehend how those classical scholars make things far more complicated.

According to the quote, our moral perception of good and bad is biased because it’s mainly based on how do we feel and perceive things. For example, the act of killing might be seen as heroic, or it might also be barbaric, depending on personal perceptions and favourism.

Don’t you agree that this point of view mainly applies to cases related to connections, power, money, and unfortunately race. But, definitlly, things are not the same with insects.

The moral aesthetic criteria when coming face to face with insects are mainly based on your ability to either flee, let them flee, or sadly end their lives.

Can you consider this blog an analytical study and examine my point of view regarding the issue of moral aesthetic critiria? Please do, because it’s based on a real case study –  my own experience.

Many years ago, when I was newlywed, I was tidying up my cosy, small flat in Cairo after my husband had left to finish some official papers before our travel to the UK. It was one of August’s smouldering days, and in Egypt we used to keep all windows shut in the morning. They used to be wooden windows that allowed good ventilation and worked so well with indoor fans. We could have installed air-conditioning, but since we were planning to travel in a few months, we didn’t want to waste extra money.

Back then, I was one of those people who could get frightened by their own shadow (I am not now). So, when I heard a strange sound and felt suspicious movement around, my heart started pounding hard and fast. As I fearfully gazed around the hall trying to spot the intruder, a cockroach with two big wings flew next to me and hid somewhere.

How I wished I could run to my room, lock the door, and hide there until my husband came back. But, I didn’t because I wouldn’t rest until I got rid of this intruder.

How would the well – known scholar expect me to react in this case? Welcome its company and offer it food and shelter? I can’t believe anyone would. That’s simply because a cockroach is a creepy, harmful insect that can not only bite but also cause diseases that might be poisonous.

So, after chasing each other, jumping from one sofa to another, screaming, and almost fainting, I grabbed one of my slippers and held it tightly with my trembling hand. The moment came when the intruder stood still on the floor. Though it took too long, but it finally came. I ran and slapped it on the head, not once but ten times, and I left my small slippers on its corpse.

The thought of what the moral aesthetic criteria of my deed had never crossed my mind. The only moral aesthetic thing I did was lie down on the sofa and breathe in relief.

With butterflies, the case is different because they are harmless, delicate insects. If you just touch them hard, they would be broken, and fade away. And, unless you have a garden or they get into your house by mistake, they never intrude, never scare, or cause any harm. That’s why I always let them out when I spot any in my house. But would you blame the spider when you find a butterfly caught in its web? I wouldn’t because that wouldn’t ‘t be evil, but a survival criterion.

What do you think?

Do you agree with my analytical study?


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

P.S. It’s still rainy and windy here.

Just writing

Why Do You Think We Covered It?

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This extract is from a parable in the Arabic Folklore. It tells a brief encounter between an old, cunning man, and a clever girl.

As the girl was walking along the road, carrying a covered plate in her hands, an old man stopped her.

“What’s in the plate, young girl?’ He asked.

‘And, why do think we covered it?’ She replied.

The man’s face reddened with shame, and he felt as if the girl had just slapped him.

Do you know why he felt so? Can you guess the meaning of this brief encounter?

Of course, both the old, cunning man and the clever girl are not talking about food? Or do you think they are?

It’s okay if you think they are, but then, there wouldn’t be a moral meaning, which means there’s a moral meaning.

Can you guess it now?

Haven’t you ever met or heard about some people who wouldn’t rest until they dig deep into others’ lives? They try their best to uncover what has been covered, perhaps even changed and forgiven. Their main goal is to pry and satisfy their curiosity and sense of gloating, to hurt and debunk others.

Worse still, have you met those who expose themselves and call it complete honesty and ultimate bravery? Their private and confidential life becomes a free open store for anyone to explore, share, and spread all over the world. Sometimes, I really can’t understand if you’ve been granted the chance by God’s grace to have your mistakes, secrets, or even misfortunes, covered and hidden from others, why expose them?

Now, back to the old parable, and the old, cunning man. He wasn’t after the food; he was after the news that was none of his business, nor anyone’s else business. That’ why he was full of shame. It turned out that the girl had given him the lesson of his life.

Do you think this old parable would have any significance, any echo in the world of social media today?

Would this clever girl exist once more?

Would the old, cunning man be ashamed again?

What do you think? Do you have another interpretation of the parable?

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

P.S. For all of you who are having snow in their places, have fun! It’s so windy and rainy here as my photo shows, but surprisingly it’s warm!

Just writing

Let Your Mind Wonder

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That’s the title I read in some news yesterday (not sure whether it was for scientific study or just a piece of advice).  The post seemed to recommend letting our minds wonder as a healthy practice to help us relax. Honestly, I only read the title, and the first few lines, because my mind didn’t let me read more. He already started to wonder, thinking about my own dilemma with daydreaming.

I believe that if you love reading and writing, you will definitely have your share of daydreaming for both based on imagination. When you read you imagine the story, and when you write you make up a story. It’s all about imagination, about letting your mind wonder. However, the dilemma arises when things become a bit too much, causing an embarrassing state of lack of concentration.

Imagine you’re deeply absorbed in writing or reading your book, feeling the narrative’s conflict. Then, all of a sudden, you have to pause because other duties call. You think your mind has paused as you engage in your chores. Sometimes it does, but other times it doesn’t. That’s when your dilemma of lack of concentration begins.

Now, if you imagined the first scenario, you can imagine this dilemma in another part of the world, with someone getting ready to pray.

She puts on her prayer dress, spreads the prayer mat, and steps on it. After the first few moments of good concentration, her mind starts wandering back to the blog she was thinking about writing. Not only wondering, he’s giving her some ideas. She blinks, trying to drag him back to her prayer.

‘That’s not me, that’s the devil whispering,’ her mind plays the innocent, diverting her to a new distraction. ‘And oh, yes,’ she agreed for who else could she blame if she couldn’t blame herself? Now her mind starts wondering again, thinking how to send the devil away.

‘You’ve never cursed before,’ her mind reminded. She almost giggles imaging someone cursing while praying.

‘Let me think of a different tactic.’ Her mind wonders again, this time to find a solution. ‘Here it is: Instead of whispering , read the verses loud.’

She does, but this idea, like a magnet, brings her family around. Of course, they wonder why she’s praying out loud. Is she’s trying to get their attention? Now, though her gaze is down on the prayer mat, her mind let her imagine their worried eyes on her.

Only God knows how she manges to hold back her laughter! Finally, the prayer is done, but for how long, and how accurate? She doesn’t know. But there is one thing she is sure of: God is Merciful and although we won’t be pardoned for abondoning our prayers ( Salaah), we will be pardoned for the unintenional distractions.

See, letting your mind wonder could be a good excerise for relaxation,  mediation, and creativity, but things should be under control. Otherwise, your life would be nothing but an imaginary story.


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Are We Long Lost Cousins

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I stopped at this question as I was reading my book last night, but I wrote it down before forgetting about it.

Have you ever met a person who looks exactly like your reflection in the mirror? Isn’t it scary to meet someone who look exactly your double, even if they are your lost cousin?

I believe that’s not only scary but can also be dangerous.

That never happened to me, or anyone I know unless of course they are twins. And, even the twins I met, were not identical.

However, there is what people call the bond of likeness which doesn’t solely imply physical looks. I think that’s somehow can be like blood bond or soul bond.

The blood bond is comon in families’ similarities because of inherited genes. In my family, for example, though my sons look totally different, most people believe they look so similar that they are confused when calling them. Later, when they know them more, they see how they are different. Although my boys always laugh at these incidents, they do the same with my daughter and me, even though we look different. But it’s the blood that runs in our veins and how close we are together that gives others this impression.

On the other side, there might be the soul bond. That’s when you share similar thoughts, dreams, sense of humour, or even fears and worries with others. They might be friends, acquentences, or complete strangers, but Fate makes you cross paths together even once. In this case, you feel relaxed and happy to be in their company, as if you were somehow related.

However, back to the one – in- a- million possibility of having your double image, it would never be exactly you. We can’t just have printed copies of ourselves because we are not just photos. We are human beings with more than physical shapes. We’re created to be different, meant to be different. So, just in case you meet one day face to face with your double, be one hundred percent sure that you would never be confused because they would never be you.

Many books might have the same title, perhaps similar front cover, but never the same author, never the same content.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

All Is Forgiven

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How simple and relieving is this sentence!

But, of course, you wouldn’t grant it to others every now and then. Or would you?

Suppose, for example, you had a bully at school, or at your workplace, or even in your neighbourhood. After every disaster caused by this person, they put on a repentant mask, shed a few tears, apologised, and swore on the name of God to never repeat the awful deed, never cause any harm, never cheat or steal from you. Would you grant them your forgiveness?

Before you reply, please be honest and realistic, because unless you’re, God Forbid, another bully you’d have only three options:

In the first scenario, you might voice the words, but from the bottom of your heart, you’d pray that the ground would open and swallow them whole, delivering them straightaway to hell.

In the second scenario, you’d scream, “Never!” out loud, and be either a martyr of bravery or live with all its consequences.

As for the third, you’d play the diplomat and remind the forgiveness seeker, that genuine good deeds erase bad ones. That’s God’s law. The Most Merciful knows what lies deep in the heart, but of course there’d be no need to voice the final addition.

If you had the three options, which one would you choose?

And, finally, don’t forget that all can be forgiven but not forgotten.


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Children’s Parliament

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That was an old children programme on an Arabic channel years ago. I don’t know why it crossed my mind as I was thinking about writing something. I guess that’s, maybe, because these days, some children are not only becoming extremely famous, but also extremely manipulated.

In the old Children’s Parliament programme, children were given the opportunity to discuss topics related to their lives, innocent childhood problems and needs; school issues, health issues, family issues, and hobbies. But, I think those days are gone forever.

Nowadays, it seems that many children have different interests and duties. Thanks to social media and other technologies, and the world’s madness, they not only have their own media accounts and online business straightaway after they entered this world, but they are also granted unreasonable privileges.

Nowadays, you can watch children in midnight festivals and ceremonies. They are accompanied by their powerful, influencial parents to share their special “success” in a completely non -child -friendly environment. They might come on stage, be interviewed, or play at the His Highness’ office. And, their parents smile and laugh to the camera to draw a perfect parental image, and role model to the whole world.

If you have a previous gift, your most valuable in the entire universe, would you expose it to everyone even if you’re surrounded by all possible sorts of protections? Would you make it part of a cheap drama? Would you use it as a blackout, a shield, or a mask to manipulate others, and protect yourself?

And that’s not enough, you hear those once -in -a lifetime parents say; “oh those poor children in that faraway neighbourhood, their parents don’t care about their safety and welfare. Those other children need to be displaced and relocated in a different, robotic environment, to be safe and perfect just like ours.” But, aren’t theirs nothing but victims of this self-centred life?

It’s said that some people, no matter how genius they could be, sometimes God lets stupidity be their sole guide. But, children can be clever enough to survive their parents unwise plans.

I wonder if one day Children will not only have a real Parliament, but will also be allowed to rule the world?

Isn’t everything possible these days? Who knows what the future holds?

Let’s pray things will change to the better!


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Apracity

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It’s cold today, but it’s also sunny. I love it when you feel the warmth of the sun on a cold day. You not only feel the warmth of the sun; you also enjoy the blue sky, the green grass, and even the brown bare trees. People, big and small, old and young, will either put on their coats or not, and go out for a walk or a run.

It’s finally a sunny day.

Would there be any surprises in such a beatiful day? I have a funny one.

It’s sunny and cold, yes, but what’s more refreshing and enjoyable than taking the clean laundry out to fly with the light wind and dry under the warm sun?

I did, but before I closed the door, my bird ran after me. He stood on the airer and kept looking at me. To my surprise, I didn’t panic, didn’t try to catch him, and didn’t feel sad either. He would definitely fly away, soar high, and forget about me, I thought and continued hanging the clothes. But he didn’t fly away. Instead, he flew back inside and straight into his open cage. I really can’t express how happy I felt and am feeling.

They say when you choose to stay when you have the full freedom to go, you deeply feel you’re belonged and loved.

That’s the apracity of my day.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Astrophysics

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If you had the power to change one law, what would it be and why?


Isn’t it incenrdible that space scientists or astrophysicists are working hard, really hard to create life and build new world on other planets? Or is it Not?

If I had the opportunity to have the power to issue one new law, I wouldn’t let it pass without submitting my proposal on this issue.

But first, since it’s all imaginative, I’d like to also have the opportunity to imagine a different me, in a different setting. I am Her Majesty the Queen, or His Excellency Mrs President.
I’m sitting at my famous desk, with the formal legal document of my new law in front of me. Journalists, interviewers, small and big cameras, assistants, ministers, mayors, and others whom I don’t know and wouldn’t wish to know, are just a few meters away. They are surounded by bodyguards or supe – powerful gurads, or whatever. I’m actually trying hard to stifle a laugh, wondering what the point of all this gathering. My law is going to be signed whether they like it or not.

Before reading my law out loud, the flashing and clicking of cameras makes me blink and feel ill at ease. No one is allowed to talk or even whisper before I reveal the new law. I choke and cough, and my voice sounds muffled in my ears. Am I catching a cold? I wonder, and find a crystal glass of water in my hand as if by magic. I sip some water and it tastes so cold and sweet that I am tempted to drain it in one gulp. But, I can’t. Her Highness would never do that. What do I have to do with Her Majesty? Oh, that’s me. I have to sign my new law. The gathering and people both online and offline, are waiting to hear it.


I look down at the document and read: Astronomers and astrophysicists can go to whatever plantes, to the moon, and even to the sun on their own cost, using their own expenses. As for us, normal people we’re amazed with our own planet, and we’ll never give it up.

Signed.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla












Just writing

I Still Have An Accent

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‘I still have an accent,’ an acquentence said one day, as we were having tea and cake at a café.

I told her that I didn’t notice that at all, as her English was so good, but she didn’t seem convinced. ‘I can’t wait to get rid of it,’ she insisted, making it seem like a big problem. I couldn’t help but wonder why it was a big problem.

Do you think it’s a big problem to have an accent?

Honestly, I don’t mind. Why would you mind if your mother tongue is different from the language you’re using for communication in your new place? In fact,  I find it interesting, different, and even special. Isn’t it the same when a native English, or French, or any other speaker speaks Arabic with an accent of their own tongue?

Over the years I have found that it’s hard for English native speakers to pronounce the ‘H’ in my name because it’s followed by ‘L’. Therefore, they drop the H, and instead of Nahla, they pronounce it Nala. I understand the difficulty, and don’t mind. We are created with different tongues, aren’t we? Isn’t that encouraging to learn and understand others?

In another context, a few years ago, while we were on holiday in Tunisia, I found it so interesting how their Arabic has a French accent. I really liked how different and unique it sounded. This is the same reaction I have when I meet Arabic speaking people from the Gulf region. Sometimes, it takes me a moment or so to understand, but I like how it sounds. I wonder how common it is to find people speaking the same language with different accents. Isn’t that what they call the tapestry of linguistic diversity?

The only exemption from this phenomenon is children. They are so quick, so ready to become bilingual with a fluent accent. I’ve noticed that in my own children, as well as other bilingual children. Perhaps, that’s because children don’t force it or overthink it. It just slips off their tongues so naturally and easily.

I still have an accent, and I like it.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Are you even human?

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Do you think it is a positive or a negative comment? I’m really curious, wondering what comes first to your mind just right now. 

As for me, it’s positive, definitely positive. That’s how I feel and think about it, though unfortunately, it puts humainty into a very critical situation.

Imagine, you received your exam paper with a full mark result. ‘Are you even human?’ they asked, full of wonder, because it seemed you were the one who still uses the best miraculous creation: your brain.

In another scenario, imagine you wept your heart out after your small bird died. ‘Are you even human?’ they asked, again full of wonder, because it seems that butchers outnumbered all civil professions.

You see how you, as a human, need your brain and your consciousness, to prove your capabilities and uniqueness to deserve your living on this earth. After all, God creates us not to be robots or angels, but to be humans with superior qualities compared to everything else. 

Are you even human? Yes, it’s a great honour to be.

Does it make sense? I hope it does.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla