The Poison Tree - planted & grown in Egypt

Where to find the book?

Online: http://www.bookspotonline.com/ please email moustafa@bookspotonline.com

In Maadi:

Kotob Khan - Laselky street

Book Spot - Street 9

In Zamalek:

Diwan - 26 July street

Downtown:

Omar Bookstore - Talaat Harb

Pottery Cafe - in front of AUC

AUC bookstore

Heliopolis:

Diwan

Mansoura:

Books & Beans - Geziret El Ward

Alexandria:

Ma3rouf Bookstores - San Stefano Mall

حبيبى ... أنت لست رجلا

تسألنى دائما عن سبب حبى لك
تسألنى لماذا اخترتك من بين الجميع
تريد أن تعرف لما احتضنتك عندما نبذت كل الرجال
أجبتك ... و
فنهرتنى ... و
وتركتنى ... و
أول مرة لا تفهم ألغازى يا حبيبى! و
أكررها ... و
أكرر كلامى ... و
نعم أحبك لأنك لست رجلا!! و

لست انانى ككل الرجال
لست كاذب أو خائن مثلهم
لست رجل يبارى الرجال صولاتهم و جولاتهم فى عالم النساء
لست رجل اعمته فحولته عن آدميته
لست رجل اغوته امرأة فسلبته رجولته
لست رجل بخل على بحبه فقطرت عليه حبى
لست رجل اثقل الصمت جدرانه حتى هجرته

ثقتك بى لا تعكس حبى قدر ما تعكس ثقتك بنفسك
تواضعك رفعك درجات فوق درجات حتى اسكنتك قلبى
اعلنت احتياجك لى فملكتنى
حبى زادك فخرا فزدتك فوق الحب حب
سجدت فى محرابى المقدس فعبدتك
لماذا تريدنى ان اجمعك وسط رجال؟
كم كرهت هذه الصفة
كيف تتساوى مع من لا يفهم و لا يشعر و لا يعرف؟
تهاب قوة مشاعرى؟
أنا البتول فى حبك! و
تخشى انكسار قلبى عند رحيلك؟
لا يا حبيبى ... تذكر ... انت لست رجلا

الوهج

بيضاء الثلج انا ... اهلا بك فى ديارى
فارسى الهمام ماذا بك؟
اراحل انت؟اتشعر بالبرد؟
انتظر

الم تتحسس املس ثلجى؟
اشعرت ببرودة انفاسى؟
اهذه دمائك؟ اجرحك حدى الماسى؟
اهذه آثارك على رقبتى؟ اشربت مثلج دمائى؟
انتظر

اتخاف أصابعى الزرقاء؟
قلبى يخفق ... انا حية
اتريد ثلج لكأسك؟
اقدم لك مكعبات روحى المتناسقة
انتظر

احتقن وجهك و اقشعر بدنك
فغر فاك و جحظت عيناك
مات حبك فى سقيع شتائى
ارحل
تعالى يا قطتى ... افتقدتك فى فراشى

Back to blogging

I have missed you all .. I have missed blogging ... what an addictive activity that is!

A quick update ... I have moved to my new home in Sheikh Zayed ... finally ... wrote about it for Identity (Feb issue) & E7na (Feb issue) ... will be able to post the articles here in a week or so.

My first book is almost out .. today or tomorrow ... mixed feelings ... at times I just don't care and at other times I have anxiety attacks:) What's it about? Basically a collection of most of my articles, a few new posts, and lots of editing to sew the thoughts into one canvas.

Why am I superior?

He assumed that I felt superior because of my fair skin … I corrected him.

He wanted to know the reason behind that feeling of superiority … I ignored him.

He insisted … I decided to tell him.

I am not superior because of the color of my skin; it is rather the brightness it reflects.

I am not superior because of the color of my eyes; it is more of the look – and outlook – it projects.

I am not superior because of the shape of my lips; it is probably because of my genuine smile.

It is not the sleek hands that lure you; it is the healing touch that subdues you.

It was never about looks; it is always about how those looks react and interact.

I am superior because I have invested a fortune on my inside – that luckily has reflected on my outside.

I have the super power of dreaming. How many people do you know dare to dream? How many paint their dreams in vivid colors? How many airbrush them with feelings? How many have 3-D dreams? How many have the supernatural power of breathing life into their dreams turning them into a solid tangible reality? I dream big dreams and I focus on the little details and the minute particles of my dreams. I have made all my dreams come true and I still dream more dreams and I will make them come true too. I am superior because ordinary people give up on their dreams.

I am superior because I have defied age. Most women fear aging while I drank from the elixir of eternal youth. So even if I grow into a pathetic heap of bones, you, and other mortals, will still feel my ripe supple skin. I breathed my soul into hundreds of students in my classes – that will live forever. I have shared my spirit with hundreds of lost spirits – that will never grow old. I have made so many girls jealous because they could never be me and I have made so many men jealous because they could never have me – no matter how much I gave; it was never all of me.

I am superior because, as a friend once told me, a gallon of paint could fall from the sky right where I stood but not a drop would touch my head; the paint would defy the laws of physics to form a perfect circle around me and I would stand there untouched and untainted. Words do not stick on me, wounds do not leave scars on my skin, and pain is just a path for reaching my own nirvana. I have the power to rewrite history no matter how sad. I have the power to define the future no matter how hard. I am in love with the present and whatever I touch turns into a hen that lays golden eggs. I am superior because I have good invincible karma.

The Kabnoury Experience

Here I am about to strike again ... Here I am pointing a skinny finger at customer service and screaming "thief"!! Yes!! Thief .. a thief that promises what he cannot deliver .. a thief that robs us of our basic rights of being respected and answered!! OK .. before I begin ranting, I will tell you the story and I will let you judge.

I am living a very exciting phase in my life now ... I am a few steps away from literally laying my hands on my biggest achievement - my very own home ... a really nice home:)

I have a huge reception area and the kitchen is part of that space. I decided to get in touch with Kabnoury to design and build my kitchen; I wanted a rustic English kitchen to suit the fireplace and the stone library in my living area.

On Thursday 6 December, I called the short number 19088 and a nice girl answered. I told her who I was and I told her that I needed one of their engineers to take the dimensions of my kitchen. I begged her to make it on a Friday because I was busy all week and she was kind enough to accept. She told me that the engineer was going to call me on Friday to set the exact time.

So far, I was happy with my choice of such a dedicated and reliable company!!

On Friday 7 December, I waited and waited, then I panicked, and finally I began the chase. I called about four times to make sure that an engineer was going to meet me that day and the nice lady assured me that he was going to call me. Finally he called me, apologized for not calling earlier, told me that he was with clients and we agreed to meet at 4pm.

Engineer Mohamed Said was punctual, came with a catalogue, and took the measurements with utter professionalism. I was happy and so looking forward to seeing the design of my dream kitchen. Engineer Mohamed told me that it would be ready on Saturday 8 December. I told him that I taught on Saturdays and that I was live on OTV on Sundays and we agreed that I would go on Tuesday 11 December to the Maadi branch to check it out.

We met. The design was not ready. I was not very happy but later on we sat together and worked on the design together - a great experience ... I was involved in the details of creating my kitchen.

At the end of our meeting , he promised to send me two quotations the following day (Wednesday 12 December)

He did not.

I called.

He was busy with other clients.

The day after (Thursday 13 December) I called.

He had an accident but he promised to email me the quotations.

There was no email - not then and not now!

On Friday 14 December, I decided to drive to Maadi branch and pick up the quotations myself. I called on the way about 7 times ... he did not reply.

I arrived at the branch and his colleague, engineer Jacqueline, tried calling him but he switched his phone off.

She handed me four pieces of paper that made no sense to me and told me that he would call me.

One sheet quoted LE 37,887 and the other quoted LE 27,175. There were two others; one for LE 46,724 and one for LE 34,800 ... ahhhh and a bathroom unit for LE 4,712.

He never called back .. not on Friday, not on Saturday, not on Sunday ... I guess he will not call.

How would they have treated me had I paid the LE 40,000 + ? I now doubt their delivery promises, I doubt their quality, I doubt their integrity, and I am glad I did not commit!

So guys .. I need a kitchen ... any suggestions?

1:46 am December 17 .... I sent my post to the customer care email on the website - customercare@kabnoury.com

Guess what? It bounced back!!!!!!

For the love of Egypt

I hesitated a lot before writing this post; lately I have been getting messages and emails accusing me of falling out of love with Egypt. I am accused of baring its wounds and pointing at its scars - and this is far from the truth and far from my intentions. It just physically ails me to see little stupid things than can be easily attended to slip the minds of people who should know better.

This is an article in Kalam El Nas magazine that triggered that post. The article, by Dina Mounib, is about a school bus accident. Is it any school bus? No!! It is the bus of an international school - one of those schools that charge more than an arm and a leg to provide privileged children with a super education and utmost care.

The bus driver picked up the kids at 7 am as usual and, like an accident in the making, he drove to school at full speed. Because of his irresponsibility and negligence, he is in a coma and all the kids are injured.

Some parents managed to fly their kids immediately abroad for bone surgeries and others preferred to spare their kids further trauma and have them treated here.

In her article, Dina is suggesting that schools conduct personality tests and assessments as part of the hiring process of drivers to ensure that they have the minimum sense of responsibility, integrity and work ethics.

I am suggesting that such tests should be extended to all company drivers - be it a school, an oil company, a bank, a ministry, or any other company.

Companies like Gallup, Talent Plus, and others have all sorts of assessments and with a little more investment from the side of private sectors, maybe we can make driving less hazardous.

I am urging our young entrepreneurs to give this a serious thought. Here is how it should go ... get certified to do such assessments, form a product line of various assessments, team up with SGS or other quality assurance companies, team up with a few ministries, and then enforce your services on the private and public sectors.

It should sound something like this "your license could be revoked if you do not have your drivers assessed"

I am tired .... out and over!

SOS – The Relationships Guru needs Help!

On this page, now and today, I shamelessly take off my seven hats of experience and step out of my grand cloak of wisdom. I stand naked and shivering before you – my readers – seeking advice. This time my prince-charming is wearing a white coat and driving a Mercedes. He has a ten year old ring on his left hand ring finger, three angels of his creation, and he wants to take care of me for better or for worse. He wants to go back in time and marry the girl who loved him blindly and unconditionally 20 years ago – yes 20! Not a typo! Were you in my 33 year old independent shoes what would you do? Is this the last rescue boat in the storm or is that a test of the strength of my beliefs? Is he a true knight in shining armor or a dream’s butcher in disguise?

For starters, he was shocked when he met me; instead of the OTV star he was expecting, he saw the modest middle class working girl that I am. I was comfortably wearing my face with no makeup, no fancy jewelry, jeans, a wide sweater, and black sneakers. He told me that I needed a makeover and that he was the right man to see me through it. His prescription started with antioxidants, some growth drink/shake, a full medical checkup, a visit to the skin doctor, and at a later stage a boob job to give me the ultimate Haifaa Wahby look. I kid you not – I sat there with a smile on my face listening to him tell me how skinny, pale, tired, underfed, and neglected I looked.

Then with lots of love and tenderness he told me how much he adored me and that he would adore me even more were I to relinquish my silly independence dogmas and like a good girl, move back home with my mother who needed me the most. In the mean while, I could work more seriously on my relationship with God and walk in the path of light instead of the utter darkness that I have embraced over the past years. He assured me that I needed a heavy blow from fate to sober me up from my delusions and maybe then I would go back to God’s way. Concluding his manifesto of love, he reminded me that he was a man but he was still willing to forgive my past and would honor me with the golden opportunity to redeem myself and to be the decent wife and the loving mother that he was certain I could become.

As he was trying to save me from the brothel of a life that I am leading, he continuously assured me that he loved me and wanted to make me happy; that he pitied me yet fully sympathized with me; that all the men in my life despised me but he still respected me; that I belonged to him and that he sincerely cared for me; that I deserved to finally be with him after all the love and persistence that I showed in the past; that he loved me for who I was and that I was physically unattractive to him in all ways or forms; that had he seen me in the street he would have never noticed me and that I was too much of a tomboy to appeal to a real man like himself. Before we concluded the date, out of generosity and benevolence, he told me that I was not exceptionally successful, that I have wasted my life on absolutely nothing, and that he had no ulterior motives – he was not even physically attracted to me!

So ladies and gentlemen – as you could tell – I am completely lost and totally confused. I have a very generous marriage proposal from a man who came back to his senses, after 20 years, to show me how much he loved me and how much he cared for me. I am seriously depending on you to tell me what to do, or how to respond to prince-charming. I will hold you accountable if I took the wrong decision and I would be highly disappointed if you did not take the time and effort and respond to my SOS shouts. I have always been there for you and now I want to see if you would return the favor. I promise to share your replies and advice with him – uncensored!

Love always
Me

Vomit

Be warned!! This is a very disgusting and sickening post ... if you are not feeling so well, do not read!!!

I pulled the cover over my head yesterday as I tried to hush the voices in my head. I closed my eyes hoping that I would soon drift into peaceful sleep. I began counting the sheep but instead of the white furry creatures I used to see in the green fields, I saw cars. I saw lead vehicles of all shapes and colors crowded on a bridge and I could not count ... they were so many ... they were so random ... they were so ugly ... their poisonous fumes crept under my cover and their honking attacked my peace of mind ... I felt my stomach turning ... I saw his face (coming in another post) and I remembered how he sat there so self conceited ... I remembered his bitten untrimmed yellow nails, the grayish wax in his ears, and the scent of his sweat filling the air as he told me that I lacked femininity.

In a split second I was out of the bed, running to the bathroom, with my hand on my mouth trying to stop the flow of what I tried so hard to push down. I have never vomited that much ... I never knew that vomiting could hurt that bad ... It was allover the place .... It was coming from every hole in my face ... I could not breathe ... I felt the motion of the car .... I vomited more ... I heard his hiss of a voice ... I vomited more ... I remembered some work emails ... I vomited more ... I remembered my mom and her anger ... I vomited more ... I remembered my dad and my anger at him ... I vomited more .... I was about to faint.

Then it stopped ...

I thought of my new home .. I tried to smile ... the vomiting started again ... I thought of the painter, the carpenter, the plumber, and the mess they left behind ... I looked at the mess I created ... I vomited more .... My cats were at the door looking at what they have never seen me do before ... I tried to cry ... the vomiting started again ... I could no longer stand ... I could no longer sit .... I threw myself in the tub ... let the water flow ... remembered the cockroach (previous post) and finally smiled.

Why am I not Interested?!!

Why am I not interested in politics? Why do I not care for politicians? Why do I not care for Iraq, Palestine, Iran, or even Egypt? Why am I so apathetic when it is so much against my nature?

Those questions have been ailing me for the past few years - since I began writing basically - but they are haunting me now all the time. In my attempt to track my apathy I have reached down the abyss of my psyche and touched base with my father's preaching and teaching.

First of all, I cannot recall one time when politics was discussed in our house - we have been through the assassination of sadat, Mubarak's regime, Regan, Bush Senior, Clinton, Bush Junior, Iraq-Iran war, Palestinian cause, Iraq-Kuwait invasion, terrorism, Luxor masaccare, all sorts of bombs, US-Iraq attacks, and many more local and international incidents but I cannot think of one comment or one discussion involving politics.

"3eyal seya3" - vagabonds - was the description the fitted all incidents.

Demonstrations were categorized as a waste of time and effort and demonstrators were a bunch of "3eyal seya3". Unions were to be boycotted alltogether be it school unions, university unions, or any other union that is voicing any opinion.

The basic rule was: why bother when the fire is not in your house? Walk by the wall and you shall never get hurt and will never get in trouble.

Making a living, schooling, eating, and mating were the main drives for waking up in the morning. "yewla3o enshalla tet7ere2" as long as the fire is not at our doorstep.

Who is president? Who are members of the parliament? Who sets the rules? Who breaks the law? Who robs us of our bread and butter? Who the hell cares ... they are all the same!!

A few days ago a friend wanted to put an anti MB banner on his blog and another friend decided to help him with the design .... apathy froze my blood in my veins and I turned a cold shoulder to both of them ... I could not care less ... from the ivory tower where I stood, I said "wana mali" - it is just none of my business. It is not my battle and I do not want to be a part of it. What have I to do with the MB or with any other political or non political party?

Then I realized that I was standing on the margin not on an ivory tower .... I realized that my only cause and my raison d'etre - women and their empowerment - is only there because I got burnt ... otherwise I am sure I would have been as apathetic about women as I am apathetic about politics.

On the phone, my anti MB friend told me:

"They came for the Communists, and I didn't object - For I wasn't a Communist;
They came for the Socialists, and I didn't object - For I wasn't a Socialist;
They came for the labor leaders, and I didn't object - For I wasn't a labor leader;
They came for the Jews, and I didn't object - For I wasn't a Jew;
Then they came for me - And there was no one left to object."

- Martin Niemoller, German Protestant Pastor, 1892-1984

In another version, the quote appears in the Congressional Record 14 October 1968, page 31636:

"When Hitler attacked the Jews I was not a Jew, therefore I was not concerned.
And when Hitler attacked the Catholics, I was not a Catholic, and therefore, I was not concerned.
And when Hitler attacked the unions and industrialists, I was not a member of the unions and I was not concerned.
Then, Hitler attacked me and the Protestant church -- and there was nobody left to be concerned. "

To be continued ..... this is just an awakening