You see a woman holding a chalice, and think, “she looks proud.”
They say that a chalice is the woman’s weapon, or her gift.
The gift she brings to the lost traveler, burning her bare feet on the sands.
The weapon she bears upward with a steady hand, her cloak on the wind like a standard.
And what you do not know
Is that she squeezed herself for you, drop by ruby drop,
Into her chalice.
The author would like her readers to know that this piece underwent an editing process by ArabComment.
Finding love isn’t easy in our day of age. It seems to be everywhere, and nowhere, all at once.
People have abused the term in every way; you almost never know if it’s ‘love love’ or just plain old ‘love.’ Is your fifth grade crush considered love? Most people would disagree, but who are we to define it for you?
I’ve heard people swear that they ‘fell’ at the first sight of their beloved. Others report that they joined the lovers’ club through arranged marriage. Perhaps these different stories are a sign that love can be found anywhere, regardless of your lifestyle, provided you look hard enough.
Instead of looking, however, we spend a lot of time fantasizing. Every girl, at one point or another, dreams of the one: that super hunk of a guy (who just happens to resemble her favorite movie star), possessing the awesome qualities of kindness and generosity. He will make her happy because he understands her like no other. Most girls will tell you that money doesn’t matter, love is what counts. Yet, as we mature, demands will become more practical.
A woman wants to be loved and cared for. And yet, why do women often make bad decisions when it comes to relationships? Read More
My friend, Noha, sat across from me weeping. She had requested to meet for coffee early that day, it sounded urgent from her voice. I’m not one to pry in someone else’s affairs, if Noha wanted to talk, I knew she eventually would.
And she did.
“I can’t have children,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked like a child who just learned that they had lost their parent forever. I didn’t know what to say to comfort her. I’ve only heard of such personal affairs in the old Egyptian classic movies I watched as a child. In one movie, the lead actress, Amina Rizk, gives up her true love and decides to share her husband with another, Huda Sultan, in hopes that her husband’s name will be passed on.
Noha calmed down once the waiter brought our food. She explained that the doctor determined that her husband was the infertile one, not her as they initially presumed. I confess, I was shocked. In Arab culture, infertility is always blamed on the female.
Even if a woman is strong enough to challenge her society and demand that the man take a fertility test, he almost would always refuse. Noha’s husband had a different view, thus the unfortunate results of the test.
I didn’t know what to say: “should I advise her to leave him or encourage her to just accept her destiny/test from God?” Read More
Not because of religion, or politics, do I despise February 14th. Neither am I one of those people who hates it simply because he has no one to celebrate it with (though I sincerely sympathize with everyone who hates it for precisely that reason).
My profound problems with this so-called holiday run deeper than that.
Consider, for instance, the candy:
Too sweet, too artificial, inevitably heart-shaped, and always stuffed in a ridiculous box that no grown man (or woman) should be seen carrying in public. Indulge in a few of these, and you can actually feel your teeth rotting in your head for the rest of the day. No amount of toothpaste can quite erase the sticky film on the enamel. Drinking ten soft-drinks in a row is probably much, much healthier.
Then, of course, there is the rest of the merchandise: Read More
