tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-284114762024-03-07T19:50:03.062-08:00IntotheSunShamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-43168028934555588522010-11-04T08:51:00.001-07:002010-11-04T09:00:43.114-07:00شفتيه....شفتيه...<br />ارسمها بالاحلام...<br />و عينه....عينيه....<br />اتيه فيها الى عالم الغزل...<br />حلم يطوف في خيال بعيد...<br />يبتسم كملاك حنون وسيم<br />و شعره....شعره ريح...<br />و جسمه و شفتيه...شفتيه ريح عاصفة تهب بوجهي.... قبل ساخنة!<br />اتألم...<br />كفاك ....كفاك ياحلم...<br />انزل انزل هنا...<br />و تجسد لي و قل لي ها انا موجود!<br />انزل و خذ بيدي و انا كرهت الدنيا<br />خذنى الى عالم الازل.....<br />الحلم...<br />لابقى دفينة حبك بعيدا عن الخيال....Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-10324851891507497702010-09-28T05:43:00.000-07:002010-09-28T05:45:10.087-07:00موعد مع الاشجانناديت باسم الوطن قالوا لي مات<br /><br /> صرخت باسم الام قالوا لي الوقت قد حان<br /><br />ركظت وراء ظل الشجر فقالو لي الطوفان غلبك<br /><br />ناديت باسم الحب قالوا لي قد فجر<br /><br />ناديت باسمي…فرح…. قالوا لي قد غيرته الاحزان<br /><br />فمات ماكان و انحرقت الجدران<br /><br />فلا داعي لسجون السجان…<br /><br />و حتى كأسي انسكب<br /><br />على الورق<br /><br />و الحبر نشف على قلبي السكران<br /><br />و ما احس….سوى التوهان…<br /><br />تائه في سجون بلا حيطان<br />فلا داعي لسجون السجان<br />و حتى قبلة الشغف<br />انجرفت و اندثرت الى النسيان<br /><br />فماتت قبلتى على تراب الاوطان<br />و تركت همسة حبي له نغمة تغنيها الاحفاد<br />و تلك الشجرة الحنونة بظلها<br /> انقلعت مع الطوفان<br />مع الطوفان<br />و انا سوى ذكرى<br />في عالم النسيان<br />فماتت قبلتى على تراب الاوطان<br />و تركت همسة حبي له نغمة تغنيها الاحفاد<br />و تلك الشجرة الحنونة بظلها انقلعت مع الطوفان<br />مع الطوفان<br />و انا سوى ذكرى<br />في عالم النسيانShamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-91900854846607749442010-06-04T22:42:00.001-07:002010-06-04T22:42:58.042-07:00Until I reach Nirvana…The vociferous agitation no longer materializes into telephone calls to mom and close friends venting of how the disaster has hit, or how has the negative comment of bad souls hurt my very poetic essence…but now, the irritable angriness is kept inside, in an internal burning furnace I call mine, surrounded and shielded with my own medications made of my strong soul.<br />Now I know I have became mature, now I know that I absorb but react with great calculated mutiny if needed, and cry but in an acquiescent voice I call serenity.<br />It is kept and dealt by me solely, I know where my ship wants to sail, and I know how I need to feed those chirping free birds so they can fly higher.<br />And I know this eternal, internal furnace will stay, but can at times be put off with the gentleness of beauty of heavens and earth, of inspiration and reality, and the very strength to look forward from an optimist lens that tomorrow I can have a whole green garden inside me, I call peace.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-34165176783863388102010-06-02T00:03:00.000-07:002010-06-02T00:06:55.263-07:00The long-term fallacy.It was one hot morning, we were walking together on the beach barefooted, wearing the same denim shorts we bought together, and all I feel is peace when I recollect our moments together unifying us in one clamped solitude… we were friends.<br />The beach that we went to discover together to our surprise was variant in colors to include dirty dark green that reminded me of fungi, beautiful mesmerizing turquoise, and angry dark oceanic blue.<br />And it was a strange beach that reminded me of how rough life can be, but with some added mysterious beauty, there was nothing gradual about it; the land crust of its shallow shore did not extend its arms much to the faint-hearted, only to have a sudden deep dive almost in less than one meter in some instances, but I loved it.<br />I hurriedly called off my beach walk with her and took off my shorts and top and swam. But my friend with her wide-brim hat concealing her sensitive skin, kept on walking as she came underprepared for a swim…she did not wear her bottom bikini under the shorts, and despite my many requests that it is ok to swim with the shorts, but she did not. <br />She enjoyed looking at cute little tiny fishes. Long time ago I used to like the zoo.<br />We are different, I am crazy and act according to the spur of the moment, and she is this demure lady with low voice and gracious acquiescent smile, but we do meet in many similar moods and modes, and what I like the most, even during our ultimate differences, and complete silence, we enjoy each other’s company, and nothing feels at odd or odd.<br />But when we called our early morning beach discovery journey to an end to head back to the office, and after settling in her convertible car listening as usual to her great fusion of music collection, we started talking about guys! We discovered our similarity, we have the same taste in men, and did not understand how can George Clooney be rated as ‘hottie’, in addition to his sad dating record of being a womenizer which we both despised. <br />Yeah, not that everyone should be a monogamous person, and I understand that marriage is not for everyone, its just we both did not like him, and we shared the same bias.<br />I thought… it was the right moment to further our commitment, and filter our friendship from any girl to girl jealousy. I felt that we needed the talk …of the friendship contract.<br />“I do not know, if I am going to appear as unromantic, I do not fight about men, because it is a choice, so if he likes you I would not really care, that is life, and people have to move on,” I said.<br />“Oh no, I would never do that, and I would not go for it,” she replied with concern, however not commenting on the ‘unromantic’ part.<br />“I am saying this, because I will take my chances, I am sorry,” I said laughingly, adding, “I guess, we can not give each other sex or babies, I can give you 50-75 percent happiness, but how about the rest, so I would want you to be happy, and I expect the same from you.”<br />“I think you are right, you are being realistic,” she replied.<br />I overlooked her fast conviction of my argument, but I do understand those eyes of hers, they have this subtle sadness….after all, we are friends that understand each other, but I do understand that nothing is long-term, and I am up for a deep dive any time life needs me to, I thin I grew wiser to believe in the long-term fallacy and in any aspect in life. Maybe, this long-term we define is a set of short-terms, and maybe this long-run we perceive is a set of mutated dramatic short-runs.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-56391224820234561772010-05-19T02:23:00.000-07:002010-05-19T02:25:20.422-07:00Chocolate is for pussies.Modern warriors no longer wear helmets and carry engraved scars on their demolished skin and anatomy, rather those modern fighters are the best dressed, with vitamin-c moisturized skin, donning their best fearless smiles in the worst times.<br />And they do not fume anger, at least in the presence of others, as they want to signal self-discipline and self-control. Putting their ultimate zealous-defiance upfront is a priority, to not let the quagmire bog them down further in the slump.<br />These warriors do not use swords to thrust it into their enemies; it is their computerized gadgets they use to re-align their strategic defense, and marketing campaigns to clean mirror images of their polished positive, entrepreneurial spirits.<br />They are the go-getters, with no time to question themselves.<br />Their weapon of defense and attack lies solely in their capability to think ‘straight’, excised from any emotional beating amid fiery situations.<br />Are they robots?<br />No, but they have became like advanced technology, with think-tank rational backing up their system to settle from the chaos to stability, after all their fight is the continuous mind-discipline to think – positive – all the time, at all costs.<br />Their scars are of an interior type, hidden inside their inside, blocked and deleted for anyone to see.<br />The solemn, quiet, non-reactionary inside of these warriors is what makes them rational.<br />After all, who needs emotions when they are the ultimate downfall for anyone to ascend the corporate-ladder or even in the modern-day romance.<br />If they ever want to hit with their cruise missiles, be sure that they hit the targeted location with their strained and constrained minds to squeeze refined creativity in the intangible war of ideas.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-85201309227210257532010-03-08T01:00:00.001-08:002010-03-08T01:00:56.143-08:00Interesting.Many of the human species make experiences as the factorial multiples of a person’s magnitude of being ‘interesting’ or otherwise.<br />There are some that send their rancor, that a certain set of individuals have lived along a certain scheme of arrangements, and they do not trespass the boundary of monotony, and simpleton thinking which itself can never out bound the conventional.<br />I found it ‘interesting’ whether or not it is really the experience that heralds a ‘distinguished’ person among others. Of course no one can ever argue that one simple experience can add one thousand meaningless jargons to be of a soulful, changing, thoughtful one nevertheless.<br />However, the question begs itself, can there be an ‘interesting’ person located in a limited zone interacting with such zone’s limited experience, or there is always a possibility that a simple thought can give to the progeny of thousands of invigorating thought processes, which can one day be grandpas, heralding the wrath of the younger thought generation yet to bring another new disagreeing generation.<br /> I believe, what makes a person ‘interesting’ is not exactly the Ibn Batutta stories she shares, however the critical thinking she carries regardless of her location, it can include her while she is sitting on the toilet proving her very mortal being.<br />The ultimate question then, what makes some to have critical thinking while others cannot uphold the minimal requirement of its logical processes.<br />Of course, societies with a wider set of freedoms will entertain a higher number of people of critical thinking skills. Their critical thinking can even be entertained quite unconsciously for the freedom they enjoy.<br />It is simple, in a closed society all those ‘interesting’ questions will go down the drain in the name of hearsay and trespassing the very imposed union of family and social norms. It is even the fear that makes such free critical thinkers to fear their very own selves!<br />All in all, I take a rather Marxist take, the world is under the procession and construction towards great enlightenment, I do believe however that it will never be achievable, but this is the real ‘interesting’ engine that keeps us progressing forward.<br />And whoever ‘interesting’ is the one that stands a great sentinel of her own ‘critical mind’, and what is even ‘interesting’ is to see Iraq’s election results! Hmmmm could it be that Iraq’s head-turban experience can lead to a secular party winning or having more seats!<br />I hope next time to discuss science vs. social science differing critical skills, and if there is a difference anyways, I guess I was tired of my computer science sister to call my logical reasoning an embryo drunk with poisonous acid hence to the level of retardation.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-5768397248571195312009-11-18T13:23:00.000-08:002009-11-19T03:24:38.119-08:00It has been such a long time.....I thought I would not write anything again.....:)<br /><br />أقرأ فنجاني فأرى عاصفة و نمل دئوب و ريحان<br />أقرأ كفي فأرى زلازل و طوفان و مآسي<br />و أقرأ جريدتي فأرى الحبر المطبوع يشعل نيراني<br />و أتقلب...و أنحني بأفكاري لأتلق لسماع الاوتار....<br />لكني أسمع بطرب الاحزان...<br />و أغني بإسم عبد الحليم و بقلم قباني<br />و أغني...<br />وأغني...مندفعةً....ملهمةً....منطلقةً<br />و بطرب شجن الوجداني....<br />مسدود ....طريقك مسدود...يا....<br />أتوقف و أرى بطرف عيني الغارق...و جفني المتبلل – فنجاني –<br />لأرى...<br />ورود تبخرت و نخيل أثمر بحجار...<br />و بحصى ..........و أعاود لأغني.....أغني......فأنا مفعمة<br />منجرفة و محبة لأوتار و إيقاع الحياة....<br />مسدود.....مسدود طريقك يا....<br />و أتلعثم...<br />يا إبنتي...<br />...........<br /><br />ها أنا أتعثر و أتلعثم<br />و أكتب بدمي سيرة حبي المفقودة<br />ها أنا عارية...<br />من غزل و حب و قبلة باتت اقدم من ماضي مضى<br />مسحته الامطار<br />ها أنا...<br />أقلب صفحات حياتي<br />لأرى لعبة الشطرنج ألعبها مع الاقدار...<br />فهل يا ترى سوف أغني بعلم نابغة الذبياني...<br />فهل يا ترى أقوى و أتصلب لاصبح عشتار....<br />...............<br />أشطب...أغير.. أمسح...و أكتب...<br />فأنا منهمكة بالكتابة على سطوح جوفي....<br />لكن المساحة أصغر مما كنت أتصور<br />فأردت أن أرسم وردة و شجرة و أثمار<br />و أصبغها بألحان القيثار<br />و أدغدغها بحب الإيثار<br />و لكني و جدت أقواس و بسامير و حيطان مهددة بالإنحطام<br />و قنابل و حروب و حصار...<br /><br />حصار<br />حصار<br />حصار<br />فهل من الممكن أن ألعب لعبة الشطرنج مع الاقدار؟<br /><br />..................<br /><br />مال....و إلتوى طريقي...<br />فسكبت قهوتي على جريدتي...<br />و قبلت كفي – وجه و قفا - لأحمد ربي<br />ها أنا في الحياة<br />إمرأة<br />إمرأة<br />و أتحدى الرجال<br />و الاقدار<br />و بصبغة قهوتي أرسم مستقبل الاوطاني<br />مجاهدة بحرية و اشرب كأسي لا أبالي<br />معاصرة<br />متحررة<br />فكري نور طريقي<br />و في جوفي رسمت وردة بتصميمي<br />و سوف تبقى حية ترزق فماءها و شمسها من حناني<br />و إصراري...<br />لأعيش.....لأعيش و في جوفي وردة<br />و أنا إمرأةShamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-43084819829808954042009-05-21T22:43:00.001-07:002009-05-21T23:01:54.151-07:00I was trying to write depth, but my ink did not even sink in the shallow pit, my pen no longer holds the paper in pain, nor kisses any line with the red passionate flames. I sit here, down beneath all of the pits, down in the ground covered by gravels and sealed with cement, my shouts rebound, anguish can not be ceased, I can not reflect nor exhume my intellect... for my flesh can not speak its past, his kisses were smothered and forgotten and no longer work the magic like -our- past, my professional attire is redundantly hung for a painful scene that of my unemployed hands...oh I look at these hands, amid the shades, behind the sun, sun burned, nail polished, refined, dull, have died, for it does not fondle with affection to him, nor produces industrial mechanics for them....Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-12436576873553204642009-01-17T14:44:00.000-08:002009-01-17T14:56:13.381-08:00Kissinger to Rabin<br /><br />"I ask Rabin to make concessions , and he says he can't because Israel is weak. So then I give him more arms, and then he says he doesn't need to make concessions because Israel is strong".<br /><br />I got the above quote from a newly purchased book - The Israel Lobby and the US foreign policy , and I can't wait to finish reading it.<br /><br />Ah, god, I thought the quote was hilarious, although reality is dreadful and bloody, and I do feel regreful for not going to the protest with my sister in Montreal.<br /><br />Anyways, thank goodness, there is ceasefire now, and alah yir7am ili matawo, ameen....Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-63531249152188142792009-01-09T21:56:00.000-08:002009-01-10T10:38:00.327-08:00To my dear girl :The liberated will need you to be screened through the stipulated act of sex, to check the limbs, size and hips, and the conservative want a stamp seal of the hymen is not destruct, even if she<br />reached the fermentation brink of late twenties, virginity is a must.<br />With the ultimate extremism that diffuse through men, contradictions seep through his penile existence. Different contradictory attribute must be found in you, and certain mixed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">proportions</span><br />has to be you, or made by you, my dear you have to know how the game is played, man is a chess game to be played, save your queen...your queen....<br />Extreme intelligence and intellect they seek but not over his reign of supreme control. That play girl and overt sexual wants they seek but not as obscene, she has to be shy and demure.. you milk shake, white and pure, but a vessel of sperms, you <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">horny</span>, you poor.<br />They seek in you sensitivity but not love, power but not weakness, love but not marriage,marriage but not love, contradiction lay in man...<br />...they calm you down in the name of modernization, and attract liberation to sway your temptation to meet his penile desire, and you wonder, why it is all lies, lies , lies...it is never past, present or future, it innate nature...<br />And it is only mixed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">proportions</span> of contradictory diplomatic affairs....and you wonder why man, never solved war....war is man, and man is war of contradictions...they tell you to embrace your age, when they take you young over your old age...<br />You were brought up with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">virtues</span> of honesty, bravery and principles, but when the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">heartache</span> begins, you know that you offered the utmost idealism and honesty of all, and you forgot war is man, and man is war of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">contradictions</span>...<br />you think attraction is spontaneous, and all the natural chemistry of two civilized beings, you mistaken, attraction is politics of hide and seek and the use of imagination to obstruct reality...Reality for man does not see romance in daylight, only through beams of illusions bestowed from the godly concubines above...<br />How can you be obvious in politics, you loose, how can you not use tactics and diplomacy to refute, so is the case of war and man is war of contractions....<br />you want your heart to speak in truth, you want your hands to stretch in liberty to his use, you want to reach deep in your feminine side, you want to give and give and love... I then apologize for your idealists shortcoming for he is an animal, he would not understand truthful civilization, he wants the game, the challenge, the risk, the caveman life... the exception are only for the enlightened, kind ones, and you can count few, almost a myth ....<br /><br />However, for the beloved I apologize, for I know him kind to my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">bosom</span> and my heart ....but now, I must admit I despise men, how can a rational human communicate to pure animal instincts...So my dear girl, grow your tactics, wear your feminine<span style="color:#ffff00;"> </span>garments, be the queen of all and know the game early on...it is deception!Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-1379535425721809502009-01-03T20:12:00.000-08:002009-01-03T20:13:06.836-08:00I drink Iraqi nationalismTwo Middle Eastern countries bogged down in muddles of mud, one I come from, the other is a brethren nation of Arabs just like me.<br /><br />Both share the same news of raucous blood smeared on TV screens. So the call of civil demonstration is as vociferous as the pain of the silent, mute, insignificant Arab corpses, and the sounds of rockets, bombs are the cheerleaders to cheer my steps to go and protest the injustice.<br /><br />I am human I sympathise. But beneath the layers of what makes me an Iraqi my march rewinds and passes through the oblivions, I feel apathetic.<br /><br />I hear the sound of vengeances of Halabja in 1981- 6000 dead, chemically gassed, no protest of their unimportant death.<br /><br />They cheered Saddam’s mongol invasion on Kuwait. No one protested to lift the sanctions from the Iraqis; the sanctions resulted in one million Iraqi child, and the price was worth it according to Albright. I heard no protest of our worth! The post 2003 invasion, even though throngs, crowds and thousands of Iraqis welcomed the invaders and others resisted them on Iraqi dead bodies. No unified protest was organized to send a message of anger due to the high number of Iraqi deaths, no protest to unify Shi’as and Sunnis from a regional Arab spirit.<br /><br />But there is the tick button, the US , the stimulator of the crowds to protest and attend their right to express and attuned their consciousness to justice, and most likely Al Zaydi’s shoe symbol is used.<br /><br />The mass graves, the dead buried beneath the sand are long forgotten. “Oh you Iraqis never tried to topple Saddam,” I remember my Lebanese friend uttering unlearned history of not knowing our Iraqi history, for him and especially as he was a Hizbalah Shi’a , the 1991 uprising sunk down in the gutter, forgetting our resistance against the Ba’ath from the South to the North , to take our fate with our hands, with much hope, America supplied the helicopters for Saddam to suppress the uprising!<br /><br />Leave that alone, I think I can forgive, and I sympathize and I do feel my blood is almost taking the form of diffused steam when I see what is happening in Ghaza.<br /><br />But my march to protest the injustice, will it ever lead to somewhere? Do I come from an Arab entity that is strong and smart enough to take its fate with its own hands?<br />I am against emotionalism now, I find it meaningless, and just as we march and protest more are dead not just in Palestine but also in Iraq!<br /><br />Maybe if I ever go tomorrow, I would like to express the message “Stop killing our Children too, Iraqi children”.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-19326689779013581472008-12-17T10:23:00.000-08:002008-12-17T12:44:07.442-08:00The last in my tribeI want an academic, analytical mode to ensconce my remaining brain neurons other than the mind's ardent desire to envisage wild rolling in the hay and gravy. Oh the pleasures of the world you are such a trick! Oh lonely spinsters how can you do it, oh erudite of knowledge how can you preoccupy yourself with the sole of human's curiosity ever so independently. Is it the scarce of passion or the abundance of passion that leads human procession, never is it the median of all things middle, ever?<br />I ponder my remaining brain neurons on a corpse of a red rose that of lost love, I cry over my growth ever so stunt in imagination, I can not write,in worlds I can never enter, in knowledge I can never decipher, only the touch, the smudge of killer red lipstick on his neck and lips. I wallow in the den of my ancient tribe seeking the heart's knowledge and feeds to my inner soul...I am the last lost shrew of my tribe, let my dither of where I belong die, Die, so I can ponder Plato and Pythagoras.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-354821674632711962008-12-07T20:28:00.001-08:002008-12-07T20:28:28.366-08:00<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On a pillow,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">lived a tear,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">on a pillow,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">the asserted fear,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On a pillow,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A secret scribble....</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">of words utter....</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">incomprehensible tatters,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">like a torn fluff of pillow's feathers,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">scattered in space,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">like wishful dreams,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">attached in voidness,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and just belong high up,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">on ink clouds,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">pouring red scribble,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">of heartaches.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">on a pillow,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">warmth of mother's womb,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">is gone,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">on a pillow,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">a lover's kiss,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">is lost,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">in tears....like wishful dreams....</p>on a pillow....Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-13727341466927112022008-11-19T20:37:00.001-08:002008-11-19T20:41:05.959-08:00Just not so pleasurableWhen comparing past and present, nothing that boggles my mind more than the anthropological , sexual and cultural behavior of the people of the Middle East.<br />Not only did ancient Arabs before Islam circled around Mecca bare and naked, but red flags on tents were the symbol and the emblem of women desire and request for sexual intercourse. I pity all the spinsters who hit thirty nowadays and never had any sexual encounter of any sort. I have no idea of how some one do it, I mean not do it, thirty something and never been kissed, maybe the promise of heaven, maybe its part of the package coming from a seclude, innocence-glamorized type of culture!<br />But more than ancient Arabians, there were the Sumerians, Assyrians, and even Phoenicians women whom due to religious and customary habits, made-available that of their bodies and vaginas to temple gods, to have sex prior marriage!<br />Compared to nowadays, the first encounter must be with the husband, and those blood splotches are not only important but the evidence of honour! It is crazy that some women not so long time ago, would not even know what exactly sex is, or would not even recognize the physical appearance of a male phallus. A lot will suffer thinking of how they can take such foreign body in their first wedding night, after years of indoctrinated, excessive sexual estrangement!<br />Did those ancient Middle Easterners thought it was important for women to have training and qualifications before dispatching them as loyal wives? Did quality sex really mattered? What happened!<br />I have no idea, did men taste change, before maybe they wanted a somewhat experienced women, later virgin and holy was their requirements? Do we only evolve under the male-dominance reign of power which heralds sexual fulfillment to men more than women, hence, four wives. Though I must admit Arabia's red flags did win the title of freedom, liberty in pursuit of sexual pleasures, though some baby girls were all gone under the crime of infanticide.<br />Now fragments of male-power is still a reality to dissect, Iraq now wants to mimic Kurdistan's move of prohibiting the four wives issue, even though the husband by law has to get the consent of his first wife, but it seems equal rights are somewhat wanted in that country. What is even funny Kurdistan still has problem with honour killing crimes. I guess nothing is perfect for us women! To be political correct Honour Crime is still not only a cultural problem but also a judicial, constitutional problem; maximum sentence is only six months for the murderer father/husband/brother, almost ALL over the Islamic Uma. It must be noted you can not do that in Islam, it is more of a backward cultural disaster that is not constitutionally challenged until now.<br />Now, here are some goodies I found while browsing<br />why is it men are mostly the choosers and not women?<br /><strong>“I.196: Of their customs, whereof I shall now proceed to give an account, the following (which I understand belongs to them in common with the Illyrian tribe of the Eneti) is the wisest in my judgment. Once a year in each village the maidens of age to marry were collected all together into one place; while the men stood round them in a circle. Then a herald called up the damsels one by one, and offered them for sale. He began with the most beautiful. When she was sold for no small sum of money, he offered for sale the one who came next to her in beauty. All of them were sold to be wives. The richest of the Babylonians who wished to wed bid against each other for the loveliest maidens, while the humbler wife-seekers, who were indifferent about beauty, took the more homely damsels with marriage-portions.”<br /></strong>And I really pity “ugly women” , and Silver coins can never be rejected, huh, what if she did not want him, oh how holly Ishtar said so!<br /><strong>“I.199: The Babylonians have one most shameful custom. Every woman born in the country must once in her life go and sit down in the precinct of Venus [Ishtar], and there consort with a stranger. Many of the wealthier sort, who are too proud to mix with the others, drive in covered carriages to the precinct, followed by a goodly train of attendants, and there take their station. But the larger number seat themselves within the holy enclosure with wreaths of string about their heads---and here there is always a great crowd, some coming and others going; lines of cord mark out paths in all directions the women, and the strangers pass along them to make their choice. A woman who has once taken her seat is not allowed to return home till one of the strangers throws a silver coin into her lap, and takes her with him beyond the holy ground. When he throws the coin he says these words: "The goddess Mylitta prosper you" (Venus is called Mylitta by the Assyrians.) The silver coin may be of any size; it cannot be refused, for that is forbidden by the law, since once thrown it is sacred. The woman goes with the first man who throws her money, and rejects no one. When she has gone with him, and so satisfied the goddess, she returns home, and from that time forth no gift however great will prevail with her. Such of the women as are tall and beautiful are soon released, but others who are ugly have to stay a long time before they can fulfil the law. Some have waited three or four years in the precinct. A custom very much like this is found also in certain parts of the island of Cyprus."</strong><br /><p>Oh apparently, ahal Cyprus have tishreeb bagila too in their diet :D</p><br />From here http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/greek-babylon.htmlShamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-12049147352337882292008-11-12T15:18:00.001-08:002008-11-12T15:18:46.307-08:00Making wrong decisions all the time.So it has been six months or better HALF a year since I came back from the UAE. I can not believe how fast time goes by.<br />I spent it by applying for jobs, relaxing, and later studying for the GMAT. I was at first quite excited that I returned back, no more traffic jam, ridiculous heat, the conservative Sharjah and their lurking men, bad odors, classicism, and of course to recharge some energy.<br />I thought my experience I gained in Dubai, will land me a lucrative job in no time, I thought my relationship with everyone will reach to a higher sincere, understanding level.<br />But here I am, with the prospect of having a promising offer , career wise! But why is it when real things happen I start getting cold feet and not commit to it. I am so immature, now I am thinking of more than ever to return back to Dubai -UAE.<br />Reasons being are all emotional, and not concrete rationality, I really can not stand my father, again. I am not talking to my elder sister. And I can not stand my youngest sister's immature and childish stupidity. I feel way too old to live with them again, I hate asking for permission to go out, even though my curfew time has expanded with promising liberty.<br />Though last month was the hardest, I could not stand this town, the people, the redundant everything. The lack of ambition, the unsophisticated people I met, the PHDs immigrants with no jobs, and not much of decent Iraqis either.<br />I want to flee back, as if I am a refugee, back to the thriving social life, meeting far more successful entrepreneurs and creatives, the lounges, the more Arab guys, Budha Bar, the quality of Iraqis I meet there...I can volunteer while working, the UN has a headquarter there, and there is always something happening.<br />But why did I leave? I thought I really wanted Canada back. But my apathetic feelings towards Canada submerged and floated like some oblivious trash on the sea shore, such climax happened during my one week stay in Toronto. I felt the lifelessness of my own , maybe I did not meet the right people, but it did not get me or I go it, but again I am measuring things according to feelings, or fake feelings, since the real bonding with places happen through people and real career!<br />So I started lamenting my utterly stupid decision of coming back, I felt so stupid , after all the hard work, I left my established contacts, and people that have became close to me!<br />It seems I am just looking for that sense of belonging, I do not want to be negative, but the ground I walk on ever since I left Iraq, has sprouted into my sprigs there and there, and my mind is nothing but a fuzzy, confused, bogged-down, futile instrument of mixed feelings.<br />Though talked with my mother, it is better to earn what I have just earned and finally get my Canadian job, and then go back with an added Canadian experience to work in the UAE , again!<br />But I will be 26 something, close to 27, and still with no stability, and jeopardizing the higher probability of meeting the right guy there in the UAE.<br />In the same time, it is time to settle in and shut the hell up! Though I miss greatly, the social life there, and prospects of me finding a decent Iraqi guy in here is much less compared to Dubai, but again most of my female friends are still single all over the globe.<br />Maybe, my pillar of conduct should be mere rationality and nothing else, and I really want to marry my career, I have this great thirst to gain career success more than anything else, and sense to toss my prisoner the biological clock out of the window and be free, rational and creative!<br />The I should circumvent my feelings and fears, and do what I need to do. Maybe that is just maturity.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-4325406267180601202008-10-28T19:40:00.000-07:002008-11-01T21:31:21.427-07:00Harbingers to Middle East/Arab democracy:Oct 16<br /><ul><li>Sectarianism or the natural sectarianism from Islam's two main branches Sunni and Shi'a Islam. The reason is not only political but also ideological/theological. If reconciliation keeps on being missing, there won't never be any stability, only turbulences.</li></ul><ul><li>The Palestinian problem/Zionism.</li></ul><ul><li>Oil in the Middle East. Why Iraq? It might sound like conspiracy theory, but it was an invasion, why not ousting Zimbabwe's dictator?</li></ul><ul><li>Is Islam compatible with democracy? Can Islam allow separation of religion and state ?</li></ul><ul><li>Instability halts research and technological advancements, therefore less jobs and more brain drainage, and far more dependency on foreign imported technology.</li></ul><br /><ul><li>Disintegration, separatism, vengeance, hatred, unemployment makes a weaker region, therefore alliances with the devil at times is a must.</li></ul><ul><li>Right wing conservative American policies, and of course fundamental Christians.</li><li>Stupid people/voters on both the regional and the international realms.</li></ul><br /><br />I think the main two is Islam's polemics on its two theological differences of Sunnism and Shi'asm, and the Palestinian problem.<br />With the former, we definitely need far more historical review to reach reconciliation, however the later is rather more powerful than our meager, degenerating weakness.<br />So what can we do ?<br />The Gulf is concentrating more than ever on investment, and money making, with UAE in the lead, it is now the glamourous trade hub in the region.<br />Iran with all the restriction has a potential of being a producer of technology, with its resilient nuclear enrichment, however its values not only undemocratic but holds a great threat to other M.E. countries, infamously over Iraq.<br />Egypt the exporter of culture, movies, and music, sits on a heated belt of social problems and is only a minute away ,ready to vote for the Brotherhood!<br />It seems our only chance in democracy is money and investments, we are allowed of free entrepreneurship as the big powers are capitalist, however our civic and political rights won't be earned with money, but with our brains, history review and reconciliation, and mitigating or even deleting fundamental Islam.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-61051295501878943972008-08-10T11:33:00.000-07:002008-08-10T11:34:14.026-07:00Miscellaneous impressions - Canada - UAEAfter two weeks of getting back to my hometown, surprise surprise, one of my old uni mates is still in town, we decided to go to some west-side pub for a laid-back, relaxing chill . God one of those things I truly missed when I was in the UAE. The area me and K went to was in the ghetto, the awesome west-side; it was the place I used to live during my university days. <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> I had a strange feeling, first I missed the place, and it made me proud that one of Canada's small cities' ghetto is actually a thriving, culturally- rich , nicely designed area compared to many many highly perceived places of this poor world. I felt as if I just started to know the place again, even when comparing this place to other Canadian spots, it actually stands out.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">This area has a huge number of infested pubs all around, and it felt almost surrealism, that I am going to an affordable, close to home pub, what's more, it does not have to be in a hotel, and one can sit on the outside. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">In Dubai, one can only get drinks in hotel joints, this has its disadvantages, but I can never forget Khaleej Palace's hotel lounge, the epitome of ethereal class and coziness, a place where you can have your wine , pistachios and have a nice chat with friends over low, soft music and gentle, dim- lights flickering. And it is something I won't get to experience in my blue-collar, small city. Though after many encounters with old uni friends, the curve for wanting my Heineken decreased quite aggressively , especially and quite particularly after I met my beloved friend M, a heavy drinker, and who also pitied my downfall as an unemployed person, so she kept buying me shots. So now, I reached my saturation point, and I am done with the booze, I decided to quit three weeks ago, though I did not crack the news to M, poor her, I am her third friend who stopped drinking. But the decision might not be so incessantly binding, though I feel I am done with alcohol.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">But after many encounters with old friends, I can not but notice the sparkles, in their eyes, “you went to Dubai!”</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Dubai became almost synonymous with big cities' names such as Tokyo, New York, and London.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And I remember when I was with my friend K in the west-side,the busy bustling bartender, who had the aura of wanting to ignore the customers' re-iterated chatter, changed features when K was talking about Dubai with him, it is like an open window to leave re-iterated localism, and more breath of fresh internationalism. The bartender looked relieved for having such particular and perpendicular talk on Dubai.... yet another person moving to Dubai, leaving the dwindling riches.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">I must admit, with all the economical slow-down in Canada, Canadian's are still the nicest, friendliest, most behaved people on planet earth, sorry if that comes off as exaggeration, but at many stops in UAE, UK, France , I would have fired many of their sales representatives on the spot, not for their lack of facial expression such as a smile, but for the very fact for being shity at what they do supposedly -best- </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">I remember my first eating out experience in a pizza place in Canada, the waitress was this cute, pregnant Canadian whose smile I would not substitute for any waitress somewhere else, I was bewildered, and exactly I knew that I am back home. I will never forget those two stiff-faced, cold-blooded British ladies, though I must admit, those are the oddballs, but the chances are far less slim in Canada, so imagine. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">I am glad that I am back to Canada, services are easy to get, everything is organized and well planned, there is no stark manifestation of class division, and everyone gets paid according to their qualifications and not place of origin. There is no constellation of a monotonous group clustered in a failed public transportation system, there is no stomach cramps occurring from excessive passings from extremely cold air-conditioned places to extreme hotness and humidity, there is no shortage of taxis, and it is not an privilege to get a taxi in a split second, and there is not silly federal laws.......in UAE, given the shortage of taxis, a Dubain taxi can't pick a Sharjian who is going to Dubai, leaving a trail of wasted fuel, and more empty taxis adding to the already congested crazy traffic jam.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And in Canada, there is no pernicious, filthy smelly body odors.....and muffins are local commodities and are quite cheap, nothing beats Tim Horton's French Vanila or hot chocolate, sales are really sales, cotton quality are far superior, it is really sad that with all the high name Dubai is getting, the UAE still gets a cheap cotton quality form Turkey, yet another class division but on an international basis. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And.....Even though both in Canada and UAE girls can get their share of guys eyeballing their physique, in Canada I would not never and ever be mistaken for a prostitute, given the fact I was wearing a big huge coat that covered me really well. It was during that heavy, crazy rainy day, when it took me FIVE hours to return home, yes no sewage system in Sharjah, it was flood everywhere. I remember when I return home, it was late, a shady car, passed by, and open its door slightly, I hurried quickly, thank god nothing happened. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">What's more, planning in Canada is not about resurrecting tall buildings, you do not dump and place, and buildings actually have lined-parking lots of each apartment!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And most importantly, I do not miss the traffic jam, four hours everyday wasted to commute forth and back from home to work. I took my ride at 7:15 am and came back home at 8 and sometimes 8:30 pm. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Last but not least, I miss UAE's thriving social life, the quality of Iraqis I met, and most importantly, the economic BOOM, I had a call for a job interview after four hours from sending my resume. Things are quick and dream jobs can happen on a much faster paste in the UAE, and I know for sure If I don't find any dime for me in here, I am going back straight and will bear all the odors and the hectic traffic. It is no surprise that many Westerners and naturalized citizens of western countries of Arabic origin are all there, so many Iraqi Canadians-Kiwis-British-Austrialians....I even met our Iraqi neighbors in Amman, now I am Canadian and they are now Kiwis. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And I met neighbors from Baghdad. UAE is truly the transit point of people I knew from the past or even online buddies I chatted with for a long time who by the way knew people I knew either way, real life or online, a crazy, social-interlacing chain.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">After three months in Canada, I miss the exposure and the new learned experiences found in that Gulf country, I miss meeting top notch people, I miss feeling that I am part of a bigger goal, and I am way too ambitious for the slow-motion Canadian economy, Three Months of sending my resume and no ONE single interview, I truly hate how this country makes me feel, I hate doubting myself, as if I have nothing to offer. But no worries, MBA/UAE is my next target, and self-employment is my long-term business target, I will never want to be susceptible to economic down-turns, whether it is the national or the global economy, yeah I am talking big , so what!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p>Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-22029601713217916462008-08-04T15:38:00.001-07:002008-08-04T15:38:49.893-07:00My new nickname is Shams :)Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-30079822704133318332008-07-26T21:48:00.000-07:002008-07-26T21:52:42.114-07:00Some really Awesome Job posting!<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2">But 10 to 15 years of experience is required ! I would like to have such interesting career, careless of my outlook on globalization, but for kicks, that one interesting, boredom-routine-killer job!<br /></td> </tr> <tr><td style="vertical-align: top;"><br /></td><td style="vertical-align: top;"><br /></td></tr><tr> <td colspan="2"> <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"> <tbody><tr> <td><br /></td> </tr> </tbody></table> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2"> <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"> <tbody><tr> <td> <table bgcolor="#cccccc" border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td class="FormLabelBold">Job Description</td> </tr> </tbody></table> </td> </tr> </tbody></table> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="2" bg style="color:#cccccc;"> <table bg border="0" cellpadding="6" cellspacing="5" width="100%" style="color:#cccccc;"> <tbody><tr> <td> <table align="center" bg border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" width="100%" style="color:#fe8f00;"> <tbody><tr> <td> <table bg border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%" style="color:#ffffff;"> <tbody><tr> <td> <table bg border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5" width="100%" style="color:#ffffff;"> <tbody><tr> <td class="FormLabel"> <span id="TrackingJobBody" name="TrackingJobBody"><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: 13.5pt;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:9;" >Responsibilities: </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Provide analyses of critical political and economic ssues in the Middle East for stakeholders and </span><span style=";font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >clients </span><span style=";font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >who are doing work in Turkey, UAE and surrounding area.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Provide analyses of critical policy, political risk and crisis issues for private industry, commercial interests, government and non-government agencies, foundations and individuals with interests in the Middle East and in regional crisis mitigation. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Analyze macro or micro political and economic situations, warning of developing crises or providing information on a specific individual or company.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Provide written assessments of specific topics, such as the political or security situation in a country or region, regional economic trends or cultural and social issues. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Provide cost quotations based on the issue's complexity and the desired time frame for product delivery. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Provide custom-tailored presentations and lectures for decision-makers, business organizations, and community groups. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Offer multimedia presentations as well as standard transparency briefings to groups of interest. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Assists business’ in providing cross-cultural training for staff, including information on social customs and traditions and where needed, a contextual understanding of the political and religious environment of the region. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" > </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" > </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Qualifications:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" > </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Extensive knowledge of region and culture, firsthand experience a must</span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Ability to effectively provide information, finding and recommendations through both written and verbal methods</span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Analytical thinker who can respond quickly to changing landscape, while continuing to provide information to clients in a strategic manner </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt; background: white none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; line-height: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:'arial','sans-serif';font-size:10;" >Able to create strong social networks</span></p></span></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table>Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com106tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-88914282450433047162008-06-22T20:02:00.000-07:002009-01-13T19:54:53.306-08:00To The End<p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in">Our last words...our last words are not salient, nor vivid to remember, for it did not encrypt its lost meaning on my pained heart, for meaninglessness would not add nor subtract from my torment...our last words did not end, but left its lonely trail infinite, keeping wonder not so sad, but dark, for no path I can find to explain how your soul has turned so black...... how can the first kind words I hear turn so selfishly brutal, how can love and friendship turn to be void space of nothingness.......our last words were a lost one, unfounded, unwritten, unspoken..our last words were a lonely trail, empty sand, hollow words, diluted illusions....</p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in">Our lost and last words did not belong anywhere, nor did we belong anywhere, right to hollowness, voidness, a bleak moment of history ...not existing..... a deja vu , a short dream, we lived under the summer and yellow rays of warmth, and amid a quiet winter surrealism, held each other, loved each other watching the snow melt on our skin.... </p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in">our lost words was our end, for we do not know what to say to each other, any longer. Farewell my love, farewell , now in my written message I documented my lost love...and .......friendship...</p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in">The withered rose you sent, </p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in">Our End. </p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"><br /></p><p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0in"></p>Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-10154576100736867982008-05-30T22:37:00.000-07:002008-05-30T22:58:47.666-07:00Radicalism is a Must.I have learned that extremism might not necessarily be extremism per <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">se</span>, and that is referring to whole attached negative euphemism of -extremism; only what I understand now, is that extremism is simply, whatever that is contrary to the status <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">quo</span>, conventionalism or changing such conventionalism.<br />Change is inevitable however stagnant, and it will be as such at many historical intervals, and such inertia of no change can take a while, if not years and centuries.<br />Maybe it does not sound correct, maybe I am trying to coin the word radical.<br />However, one needs to be radical to reach a certain extreme point whom the society can not accept nor fathom.<br />Extremism is a composite of radicalism and radicalism is the process of inventing a new thought, though not technological to facilitate laziness/costs of production into material production but it is the soul and the spirit of human freedom and discovery amid its unknown unconscious and complex changing realities than can put forth different realms of values <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">simultaneously</span>.<br /><br />The reason that radicalism is the unacceptable breakthrough, lies behind many many reasons. It can be new, untried, scary.<br /><br />For them not accepting it, it might change power structures and positions for some key people whom would not subdue to such change.<br />Or not being able to fathom such radical concepts, because their level of “understanding” is still stagnant at one level and they can not imagine otherwise, and also, perceptions Change Reality and ingrained values can not be seen otherwise due to fear, anxiety, life complications and not being able to freely contemplate Life and its existence therefore -curiosity is somehow ceased into the oblivion.<br />As crazy it is, native Americans could not visually see the European ships reaching their Shore, because they have never seen a SHIP before. Reality is not 100 percent <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">perceived</span>, we change reality, we change our variables yet there is something out there, but who can cope to see it...<br /><br />Also, and most importantly extremism or the incipient thoughts of radicalism occur because humanity did not reach a certain interval which is the complete manifestation of itself and that understanding itself and the “truthful” values of its existence.<br />Knowing is always different than realizing and realizing always different than manifestation, not everyone can manifest what he/she realizes, it takes you to the next level of being AWARE.<br /><br />We all have different levels of staying in touch with “reality” or what makes “reality” to us.<br />Even at such level of rational-industrial stage of humanity, I still think we lack behind and very very quite backward.<br /><br />but how do I measure us? Not really just TV or our lack of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">sustainable</span> development, I think it is the sense of my soul that feels like crying....<br /><br /><br />p.s. <span style="font-size:78%;">though</span> Standard is a Must ....Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-91360384706942630152008-04-03T17:27:00.000-07:002008-04-03T17:32:33.077-07:00احضان الاصدقاء<br /><br /><br /><br />ارتباك يشق طريقه في كل انحاء قلبي المرتجف, فهل من غطاء يلف لحمتي من حنية.<br /><br />يا لها من مصخرة, الحنية موجودة, و العطاء الانساني المنهمر موجود و سليقتهه كلمات اصدقائي الحزينة, الفرحه , الفكاهية و المبعثرة بهجا و نيرانا في هذا الكون....... لكنها...لا ادري... لا تأتي الى القلب لتسكن ارتجافاته, و لا تسد تشققاته التي باتت تمدد الى شتى الاتجهات, ليبقى قلبي اشلاء لحمة اصدقاثي المتبعثرة ما بعد التذكرة........ كلماتهم و جملهم و حكاياتهم التي اعشقها ...لكنها....هذي الكلمات لا تروي تشققاتي لتجعل مني ارض خصبا, سوي ارض ناشفة و غير قادرة للبكاء لتروي بدموعها ارض قلبي.<br /><br />ن. يا صديقتي, يا لك من روح عبرة, يا للك من شعلة ذكاء كبرة, و يا لروحك الحالمة الواقعية.... قلبك في المثل والاحلام و راسك بكتب تقارير هموم الايتام.<br />و يا ع., من صمم قلبك هو الرحمان و من قاس صبرك لاستوقفت امواج البحر انكساراتها الغابرة لشحة المحيطات, يا ع., روحك الخيرة النظيفة تبقي شمعة الامل, الالهام لتنير دربي في كل الايام, في العتمة و الضياء.<br /><br />ي., يا جندي العراق المجهول, يا فتى لم تكشف الايام نخوتهة و يا ايها الصبي الناضج و سبقت ايامك بالتفكير.<br /><br />و يا ر., يا بهجة النكات و الكلام , و تدفقات حركات عفوية...يا حركة الصبا و نبض الاحساس المفعم بالحيوية.<br /><br />. ما تبقى سوى, هي لحظات وداع و سوف ارتوي حب الاصدقاء عندما احضنهم و ارتشف من دفئهم لاتذكر ذكرياتنا و ابتسم نحو دربي الى الامام.<br /><br />اصدقاء العمر<br /><br />اعرف سوف لم احضن اخواني ....لا ابالي فهم بالقلب.<br /><br />الى الامام.........ابتسم !Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-8506795870669293732008-03-25T19:30:00.000-07:002008-03-25T19:52:51.105-07:00Dating and facebook.Never add or tell a guy you dating that you have a facebook account or that he should acquire one. A guy with no facebook account is a blessing!<br /><br />Now..Beware! Girls' double standards are on the way, but let me be, god bless feminism :D<br /><br /><br />Facebookers and them being males is one combination that does not pass the attractiveness test for me, something I have discovered lately but it is such a turn-off! And no matter what their age, status or "maturity" level, they will still be questionable no matter what, especially if they are married, oh how I despise the info filling "married" but interested in "women", despicable!<br />Adding fuel to fire, Facebook also and somehow takes from the manliness factor and I would rather have him rugged, with automobile oils all over his torn, messy hair, half naked, washed out jeans fixing, some car! Ok I am fantasizing in here, ignore :D<br /><br />One guy who seem to top the scale of all the guys I have met in the UAE – marriage wise- have joined facebook under the auspices and encouragement of ehem, me…(what was I thinking! ) And it created blackout and a communication gap between us, and only now we are catching up, when it is time for me to go.<br /><br />Not only he viewed some flirtatious and damn cute remark of a guy I knew from university whom I have long lost in touch with, or a guy I have met randomly in my –real- life and somehow decided out of the blue and at some point to send me a cat icon gift but never bothered to be interested when we met in "real life" but also, guys who think they are my real friends or I am their real friend, and give me a shout of "how am I doing and how are my parents doing?", even if they have never met my parents and do not even know that I have relocated to the UAE a year ago!<br /><br />Facebook and the internet gives guys the courage to speak out more and communicate with females on a higher level more so than real life, I have two guys (my two main crushes in my life so far) who have admitted likeness to me on the net but they could not have done it real life and these guys are considered personable and strong. But this lack of courage and spontaneous behaviour really makes female lives rather dull and boring.<br /><br /><br />But really, due to this abrupt, out of no where remarks from obscure guys I have met back in the Richard the Lion times, can deter serious relationships from budding and blossoming.<br />Facebook really gives my social life a fake "facelift" that I am all about and all going, but it is really fake remarks and comments from people who I did not seen ever since the ice age, that can screw dating potentials by creating mistrust and suspicion.<br /><br />Nevertheless, it can be a real challenge for the two warring genders, to weave trust from all the fakeness, and even though it created discrepancies with this "potential", it also somehow taught him to trust me.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-38582328641315768572008-03-17T12:05:00.000-07:002008-03-17T12:07:01.401-07:00Double standardsDouble standards are everywhere, but I find it most prominent in the Islamic/Arab region.<br />And it is worst, when people whose most valuable efforts are to give "religious wisdom". Those religious men and women, I find their double standards to be the most irking and frustrating ones, maybe because it appears to be more than hypocrisy!!!<br /><br />A relative of mine is so religious, he forbids his kids to listen to music, for him it is a big haram, he scrutinizes what his daughters wear before they leave the house just in case something was tight, he switches t.v. whenever there is a song playing, or too much female skin is showing.<br />He did not buy his daughter the mp3 only when she promised that she will only listen to Quran and anasheed.<br />One of his sons, a Metallica loving person, and on top of that, he listens to radio music, he as well forbids his sister to listen to music. It feels that such double standard is creating some new found rights under the absentee of the father's knowledge for the son, as well creating further gender biased double standards, though in a very twisted, retarted way.<br />The son smokes, and his haram doing, is not allowed to be done by his sister, of course she is not interested in that, but they had an argument once, she told him "you do not let me to listen to music but you smoke and listen to music". Of course for him, he is protecting his younger sister and he is being wise, and yeah he smokes about everywhere in their place, how not-selfish!<br /><br />So back to this relative of mine, he is so strictly religious.<br /><br />One time he was telling others quite publicly in a family gathering, how his Metallica loving son (of course the dad does not know) had his marks boosted from failure to passing grades.<br />The relative is a college instructer and his son went to the same school. His son, despite his dad's efforts did not like studying, and he was not keen on even caring to actually pass, though he had the brains but too stupid to use it.<br /><br />What is so interesting, such "illegal" mark camouflage, appeared as a good will gesture by his other colleague whom he taught his son, my relative Emphasized.<br /><br />One of the woman sitting, his sister, the auntie of the Metalica loving person, objected for such illegality. Though, her brother, replied rather jockingly "Shasaweela, mawatni, ma yidrus".<br /><br />Today, the same relative of mine, pokes fun, and it is rather legal mockery type of a joke, of how his wife, now in Canada, buys clothes and return them after a month. Translation, she is using and abusing the system mithil il ma shayifa.<br />Another distant relative replied "that is not Islamic, she can't do that", the relative is still in mode joke, I did not hear his reply, but the distant relative asked "do they do that often in Canada", the relative of mine, as if he did not believe such quick fix replied: "yes they all do that".<br />No They do Not, they do not buy a bag full of clothes and return it after one month, hell, the whole shops in Canada would have changed their return policy, maybe the will when there will be more influx of that type of people. So apparently, if the majority does that, then it is fine, it is Culturally acceptable and lies within the "islamic" acceptance of no where it is Haram!!!<br /><br />Oh, I had a very religious co-worker of mine, I told her the story of the mark-comflage, she also agreed that it is ok!<br /><br />I guess that’s why the standards in the Islamic Umah is below Zero, or double zero!Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28411476.post-52491178837780089092008-03-16T16:04:00.000-07:002008-10-28T19:39:34.935-07:00The oil money please, my panka is not working!!Iraq is a hard place to understand, not because chess is a game I do not play, but finding information is not clear and always distilled to tidbits that do not match, well of course, one can easily guess – corruption, but how and why , the ratiocinative to link events are rather missing.<br /><br />With controversy plaguing the screens, though only within the Iraqi media, I have heard that the Iranians are stealing from Majnoon oil field. The next day, a special reportage appears, flashing my screen, Shahrastany is reassuring.<br />The reportage heeded by some ministry showing Shahrastany on ground at the Majnoon oil fields, reassuring that everyone is Iraqi and of course oil is Iraqi as well.<br /><br />Though, how did such allegations happen, why and by whom? Why is their growing mistrust?<br /><br />Iraq's main income is oil export, yet Iraqis' essential needs are not met, green water or little drops of it, decamp Iraqis' household taps, and electricity shortage is leaving many Iraqis in the dark.<br />Why is it that our oil revenues are not there to remedy simple needs? Why there have not been real construction efforts despite the government's ardent entrepreneurial invitations of other nations to have business, investments and embassies in Iraq. Why the contradictions?<br />Why is it that the U.S. taxpayer money has been running the show for reconstruction in Iraq for the past five years.<br />Why is it that our oil revenues are there in foreign banks. How about priorities Mr. Shahrastani!<br />Squabbles are there with the ministry of electricity, but why are there excuses for public service men/women not to serve their people at least with minimum essentials.<br />At least make use of the gas that goes off along with oil when gushed from the ground, why can't they build some gas facilities to cultivate this gas to remedy such needs and Leave alone oil for export purposes as Shahrastani wishes.<br /><br />Now, there is the senate committee requesting a full accounting of how Iraq is spending its soaring oil revenue.<br /><br />Of course, Americans have the rights to protect their taxpayers money, which somehow, quite coincidently seeps into Iraq's interests to know why priorities have not been set in Iraq to serve the severely effected populace.<br />And Yes, of course it is the democrats who signed the committee letter request.<br />What is so funny, during Bremer's administrations, he hired a certified public accounting firm to ensure proper controls of Iraq's oil, but apparently the contract was not given to an accounting firm but to a – tiny - consulting company, Northstar , its headquarter somewhere in San Diego!<br /><br />It is them at top when they wish, they can make it right.<br />I do not think that the Iraqi population is respected.Shamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596537702922899654noreply@blogger.com17