And it’s sunny and warm. You could say… it is neither warm nor cold.
And it’s cloudy, and what beautiful clouds we have today; grey, white, and golden yellow. A stunning portrait of natural beauty!
And it will be rainy ( a bit later.) Still let’s imagine it; drizzles then light then heavy showers.
And it’s a busy morning: wind rustling, birds soaring and singing, trees swishing, cars racing, buses braking, children hollering, road workers drilling, and aeroplanes whooshing through the sky. What a real, live soundtrack!
Won’t this beauty make you happy, make you alive, make you feel blessed?
How many times do we have this beauty all together, all at once?
Sometimes all we need to do is to set aside whatever we’re doing, stand by the window, and simply look around.
Because pompous people are too blind to see anything and anyone but themselves.
They walk the darkest roads, convinced they are the light.
They build vast empire, believing they will last forever, into infinity.
They accumulate wealth and make fortunes, believing that they will never taste need or misery.
They look down on others, convinced that they are the superior, the supreme.
And they hate truth, evade it, and believe they are right even though they know they are wrong.
But…
Dark roads are dangerous, full of humps, holes, and perhaps even a massive trench. And fake light doesn’t give good light. Fake light doesn’t guide. Fake light doesn’t last.
That’s a pompous fall.
Empires may be vast in shape, in power, in wealth. But, before these empires, there were other great empires. All becomes history, and history teaches us we that the greatest empires can vanish in the blink of an eye.
Another pompous fall.
Do wealth and fortune guarantee true happiness or only the hollow repetition of the name without living its meaning? The pompous crave genuine happiness, dream of it, but what they grab is nothing more than the word itself.
Another fall.
Doesn’t it happen that the very ones the pompous looks down on, may one day become their keepers, their leaders, and perhaps even their partners? The tables turn.
Another fall.
Truth is objective, but the pompous makes it subjective. They miscalculate, misuse, and misjudge, intentionally. Then, instead of admitting their mistake, they raise their heads high, puff their chests, and announce that anything is possible. So, 2+2 can be five, or even ten if they think so. But, truth walks its own path, and survives.
Another fall.
And there can be more falls.
If there were no such pride, there would not be so many falls.
Do you like to read a review with a spoiler or not?
I don’t like spoilers, but sometimes… when a book is too boring to enjoy, too complicated to follow, or… too bold to imagine, I take the shortcut and try them.
But, when I write a review, I try my best to keep it spoiler-free. At the end of the day, what’s the point of giving away the story instead of encouraging others to read it? Most dishes served on golden plates, are not really filling, right?
Have you ever heard the phrase “my mortal enemy”?
Well, that’s the title of the book I’ve just finished.
Some people curse their lives, blame others for their misfortune, and regret their choices. They begin to believe that the closer the person is, the more likely they are to become an enemy.
Things happen when, for example, a friend turns against you, or when someone you trusted becomes the cause of problems rather than the solution.
But, what about your inner selfish self, your bitter self that starts all the dilemmas? Could they be your mortal enemy?
Some stories make you think twice before taking sides with any character, because the morals they give are not always true.
So, as we say in Arabic: don’t say Amen to whatever others say—remember to use your brain!
“Anyone who requites faith and friendship as I did, will have to pay for it.”
The Professor’s House by Willa Cather.
I’ve already shared my review of this novel, and this quote has inspired me to write this post.
The reason behind this quote was the loss of a friend —not through death, but through disagreement and disappointment. One was an idealist, the other an opportunist. Though they made good company together, at the first conflict, their paths parted. It was the idealist who said these words, lamenting the loss of true friendship to uncompromising ideals.
Faith and friendship are such precious gifts— too precious to be returned, too fragile to be repaired.
One is blessed to have them strong, and to keep them safe and nourished.
How strong? How safe, how nourished?
The balance depends on how much you are committed.
Along this journey,
perfection and idealism are neither required nor recommended.
Materialism, modernism, and other -isms have no place here.
These precious gifts need a simple home with strong pillars.
Understanding and sincerity can be the main pillars.
But, if the pillars break, the building will collapse.
Then, regret follows,
and what a heavy, merciless creditor regret can be!
In brief, this is my interpretation of the quote, which I see as the bulb of the book. And perhaps you might think of it as… just a pat on the shoulder on the first of December.
Well, I have. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be writing this post right now.
Now, let’s think of common opposite words such as… tall and short. But, actually, the word tall has more opposites than just short.
There are, for example, little, small, petit, and others. Not to mention how you can make an opposite of tall through figures of speech by using, for example, dwarf.
Besides, tall is not only about height, for it can be used to describe a difficulty, for example, a tall task. In this case its opposite would be easy or simple. By the way, I hope my posts are not too tall.
Don’t think that this is a grammar lesson, because it’s not.
It’s just about the idea of flexibility and perhaps… possibilities.
If a word has many synonyms, why should you be stuck with one opposite when you have other choices that can express meaning in different contexts.
And this is simply another way to avoid embarrassment, monotony, or misunderstanding.
Hopefully, you’ve got my point.
If not… think of how the word opposite itself has more than two opposites and, ironically, synonym is its most popular opposite.
What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?
A month or two ago, my son’s friend brought his cat home for a short visit while he was travelling abroad. Actually it was my suggestion. I was both excited and relieved as a few days won’t form a strong bond between you and your favourite pet—cats.
Cats seem to have an anticlockwise routine, right?
They sleep most of the day, and stay awake all the night.
Perhaps yours is different, but the ones I’ve had the honour to befriend have always followed that routine.
So, when the cat arrived safe and sound, she ran and disappeared behind the sofa.
Expected.
The place was new and so we were.
A few hours later, night fell, and she was still hiding.
I tried to give her food, but she didn’t eat.
I cradled her in my arms, but she leapt away and disappeared behind the same place.
I closed the door and left her in peace.
But there was no peace.
The big fun began—
noise echoed downstairs.
running,
sliding
and jumping.
‘That’s the cat,’ I told my daughter, couldn’t help laughing at her panicked face .
In the morning, we were the ones making the hustle and bustle, and the cat watched us with heavy lids, and half closed eyes.
But by afternoon, she was full of energy.
After stretching her four limbs, and letting out this wide, funny yawn, she jumped and stood onto the windowsill.
Like a hawk, she watched the birds, the flies, and perhaps other creatures we can’t see.
Her tail swayed, and eyes shone as if she was plotting how to catch them for dinner.
A bit later, she tiptoed around the house, exploring every room and corner.
Then she slipped back to her hiding place, curling into her catnap, until it was our turn to go to bed and leave her free to have all the fun she wanted.
Sometimes I wonder if cats can ever skip their catnap?
But I think that would hardly happen.
Honestly if there’s one thing I wish I could add to my routine, it would be the catnap, but then it would be the hardest thing to skip.
It happens that, out of all the books you read, some leave you with funny memories. You may totally forget the author and the book, yet some of its narrative, perhaps its themes, stuck into your head.
Have you experienced this before?
I have, and that’s what inspired me to write this post.
So, in one of the novels by a popular author( whose name I cannot remember right now, and if I try, I will lose the thread of this post)
But you don’t want me to lose the thread, do you?
Now, back to the main point: a parrot was one of the characters in the story. He wasn’t a main character, but an essential one.
Do you wonder why?
Because he brightened the last days of an old lady’s life.
By the way, in Egypt, when one repeats other’s words without thinking— or worse without understanding, they’re called a parrot.
In the story the parrot was… imprudent, throwing swearing words at others, not for fun or for a fight, but because his owner was professional in that craft.
Then one day, the person who was taking care of the parrot while his friend was away on business, decided to give her flat a good cleaning. She grabbed the vacuum, turned it on, and got to work. The place looked so clean and tidy, but something was missing.
She felt something was missing, clearly, definitely missing. And that was it: the flat was so quiet. She could hear a pin drop. But how? Where was the source of everyday noise, the maestro of the swearing symphony?
A few moments later, she saw him, swallowed by the vacuum and trapped inside like a fluffy toy.
She rushed to pull him out and held him in her hands.
His eyes were open and he was breathing, but that was all.
It seemed the shock, whether an electric or emotional, had switched off his brain.
For days, his condition remained unchanged. No noise, no food. Still, he was alive.
A few days later, he was taken to the old lady. She laughed at his mishap, but she also felt sorry for him.
She didn’t give up on him. Every day, she gave him food and water.
Bit by bit, his life was restored, but his voice was never the same. And, the good thing was he lost his old vocabulary. Yet he made the old lady laugh, and she felt quiet responsibility towards that poor creature.
I remember there was a quote that explained how a pet can help people live longer and happier.
I like to think about how, in my blog, I begin to practise creativity, how I find my voice, and how ideas and thoughts start to flow.
It becomes my favourite place in my city of writing.
By the way, I have another favourite place in my imaginative city—books.
You can’t write without reading, can you?
Books are not only for reading with your eyes but also for imagining with your mind.
You imagine characters, and you also imagine their places, their cities, and their era.
Or you may prefer science, philosophy, or even politics, and there too, you’ll find yourself as if you were in your favourite place.
So, wherever you live, in a small or big city, if you pick up a book and really enjoy it, your reading will turn into a visit, short or long, to a special, imaginative spot in your imaginative city.
Just imagine: step out for a moment from the real world, from the actual city.
Pure and Simple 