Of Home & Memories...

“Home” is a real problematic concept. I went “home” for a week and I felt like a stranger, if it weren’t for the familiar faces I would have been completely alienated.

What is home anyways? Is it the place where you were born? Is it where your family resides? Is it your own residence? Or perhaps it is where your heart dwells? Why do I feel home in exile while I’ve spent most of my years else where?!

I thought that my trip home will do me good, it was supposed to be like a trip to ancient ruins which you admire in awe and hopefully its magical powers will set your chemical balance straight.

When did home lose its enchantment, why did home get disgraced by memories of treachery?

When will "home" be home again? When will I ever stop feeling hurt? When will I ever lose sight of betrayal?

Going back to Alexandria with a numb mind overloaded with memories of what was once a sincere genuine sentiment, with an injured deformed soul that used to be humane and a clogged heart filled with hurt and betrayal, walking around in the shady streets, smelling the air that used to be saturated with her scent, going to places that carry memories of us being there, being saluted by those places with a commiserating smile, being inebriated with a trance of melancholy and commemoration of the leave; all in all made me realize that facing my daemons is one thing but facing a good memory turned bad is the ultimate trounce.

I can contend against my daemons, but it’s those memories that I cannot vie.

Blogging a month…

This Ramadan was my first away from home, and something tells me it will not be the last.

For me, Ramadan is a whole set of rituals that have to be encountered to give you the scent of the month, and I am not just speaking of religious rituals, I am taking about personal and social ones let alone sociological behaviors.

I missed the streets of Alexandria just around sunset when every body awaits the call to break their fast with family and friends. I missed the silly shows in the TV and my friends’ gatherings at our favorite spots.

I missed myself in these 25 days more than I ever missed myself in my 25 years of age.

But the good thing is that I enjoyed myself I enjoyed experiencing the ultimate solitude and the snap out of “everything is set” mood.

Ramadan is almost gone now… and with it something has definitely changed… It would be early to tell what it is now...