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After a year and half - What the blog means..

Since many people/followers asked me to explain the blog title and I had to dig deep with details..here's what it means:
Haiku is a Japanese poetic form that I never really seemed to fathom nor did I ever attempt to write. I still don't have the capacity to hide so much in so little words.

Haiku 俳句 is also a Japanese word that means hurry up or quickly (hī'kū).

I share here everything random, yet useful I find online, which is still a very very small part of this huge world, but still makes a difference to know; and there comes the description of the blog: The teeny tiny things that matter.

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Meet the HBBC Members [Updated]

HBBC: The half-baked bloggers Consortium. Where bloggers and non-bloggers will be posting their points of views about political, economical, social, sarcastic, psychological and religious topics.
We'll be tackling an issue/topic every weekend insha'allah.

First and foremost, special and deep thanks to my friend Noor Al Zubaidy for introducing me to the original Consortium Members, some awesome bloggers and pretty decent people :)

HBBC Members and their blogs (if they are bloggers):
  1. Abeer Zaki
  2. Ammar Al-Majali
  3. Christina
  4. Deppy
  5. Engi Amin
  6. Ibhog
  7. Maha Mohamed
  8. Maryam
  9. Nema (me)
  10. Noha Hanafy
  11. Noor Al Zubaidy
  12. Noor El terk
  13. Nouran Ziad
  14. Rana Safi
  15. Rania Khaled
  16. Salima Al Masrouri
  17. Sara Amr
  18. Shireen Zayed
  19. Yara Hani
  20. Yasmine Fayez
  21. Hagar Haggag
Please take the time to visit the blogs, and take the links from here so you can share them when we take off insha'allah on the 2nd of September :)
Thank you all for the support and positivity!
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Illusion of asymmetric insight

The Misconception: You celebrate diversity and respect others’ points of view.

The Truth: You are driven to create and form groups and then believe others are wrong just because they are others.

The illusion of asymmetric insight is a cognitive bias that involves the fact that people perceive their knowledge of others to surpass other people's knowledge of them. The source for this bias seems to stem from the fact that observed behaviors of others are more revealing than one's own similar behaviors.
Relatedly, people seem to believe that they know themselves better than their peers know themselves and that their social group knows and understands other social groups better than other social groups know them.

Sources: YouAreNotSoSmart and Wiki.
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Pompeii: The Cloud of Death (Part II)

This documentary explains the whole story, without me philosophizing. Here is what you might want to know.
Some words and definitions you might want to know:

Pumice: A light, porous, glassy lava, used in solid form as an abrasive and in powdered form as a polish and an abrasive.

Pyroclastic Surge: a fluidized mass of turbulent gas and rock fragments which is ejected during some volcanic eruptions.

Plinian Eruption: also known as 'Vesuvian eruptions', are volcanic eruptions marked by their similarity to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79 (as described in a letter written by Pliny the Younger.

Credit goes to the awesome blogger Deppy for sharing the link with me on Part I :)

From the religious side, the experts explanations on the eruption did not honestly convince me; it cannot be a coincidence that the eruption happens every two thousand years which means if we calculate it properly, we're about to witness another volcanic eruption of Vesuvius pretty soon. AND, I think the documentary explains the corruption of the nation. Which if we measure it this way..a corruption always leads to eruption.

P.S the translation at the bottom is Norwegian, just in case you were wondering =D
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Animosity - Loose Bloggers Consortium (LBC)

This is my weekly post with the Loose Bloggers Consortium (LBC) including Rummuser, Anu, Ashkok, Gaelikka, Grannymar, Conrad, Padmum, Anki, Will Knott, Maria The Silver Fox, Noor, Paul, Plain Joe, Rohit and myself, where we have a Weekly topic to discuss. This Friday's topic is Animosity. Please take the time to view the other bloggers' points of views about it as well :-)

Your heart is sick, it needs to be healed somehow, perhaps by curing your soul. Just don't let go.
I remember Moez Massoud's episode about envy and animosity (A Muslims activist and preacher who holds a program called Revolution on the self), the way he described animosity and how we generally degrade the greatness of the trait made me feel bitter; like we're actually degrading everything bad we're doing, maybe even on a daily basis.
I don't know how bad is that within me, but to be brutally honest, I do know it exists, and it can creep up inside any one of us and consumes their soul. Some things are hard to control, and that's why fighting the self is one of the hardest things in life.
You know that the simplest thing to do to make others despise you is to be a failure fighter against your own self, you will procrastinate fixing anything within you and enjoy watching life goes by, and only earn more enemies than friends.
Without further ado, because I didn't think I can actually blog about this, I wish we'd understand the self more in order to understand each other better.
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Pompeii (Part I)

I'm trying to do a research on the Italian city Pompeii, during the Roman Empire, a city buried underneath a massive volcanic eruption. The reason why I'm interested in such a thing is that it's nearly impossible to believe that a whole city was buried under a volcano just like that; there must be a godlike wisdom and reason for this.
Here is a brief history taken from here:
Pompeii, also known as the forgotten city, was a Roman settlement that was devastated by volcanic eruptions in 79 A.D. The city was first occupied by Romans in the 6th century and converted into a Resort city. The volcano that was responsible for the destruction of Pompeii is called Mount Vesuvius. The eruptions from the volcano were so strong that the buildings and the people were covered in twelve thick layers of mud and ash. After the city was covered in volcanic ashes, it was slowly forgotten and erased from the history books until it got rediscovered in 1738 by workers working for King of Naples.
Before Pompeii succumbed to the eruptions, it used to be a blossoming township and a progressive commercial port of the Sarno River in Italy. The most notable buildings that have been excavated from the ashes are a Roman basilica and an amphitheatre. The excavations also include many intact wall paintings, pottery and coinage. Pompeii was one of the earliest excavated cities in the world, where archeological work started in 1738.
The above picture is a neat one from now. Here are a couple of pictures of the buried nation..

And even animals..

What I'm trying to grasp is the info my sister told me; she did a research on that some time ago and read that the people of the city were so engulfed in lust, ecstasy and a worldly life lived completely to the fullest. Paintings of concrete sexual intercourse were easily seen on walls. Everything was just about satiating their needs. And that's what I'll try to get info about in part two insha'allah.
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Though it literally translates to “fear of chemicals,” this term is used by some psychologists, scientists and organizations to describe those concerned about the “industrial,” “synthetic,” “artificial,” and “man-made” particularly with regards to food and drink. An article by the American Enterprise Institute on chemophobia boldly states “The false idea that our bodies have become ‘toxic waste dumps’ is not just wrong but counterproductive.” Do they really think there’s no correlation between the skyrocketing rates of cancer and the increase of chemical additives in the food supply? It’s probably only a matter of time before psychiatrists use this word to describe people who resist chemotherapy for cancer (i.e. Daniel Hauser has “chemophobia”).

In the third world countries like us, what would we say about this?

Source: Listverse

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قصيدة من الطفولة

أنا مش هتكلّم كتير هنا ، هحكي بس قصة الأنشودة ، أو القصيدة دي
القصيدة دي من ذكريات طفولتي التي مش هنساها ، الذكرى الحلوة ، بالرغم من إن القصيدة مؤلمة و حزينة ، لكن لا زالت بتعبّر عن حالنا الحالي. ببساطة شديدة القصة اللي عمري ما هنساها إبتدت في عربيّتنا هناك لما كنت لسه في الإمارات ، كنت تقريباً لسه في أولى إبتدائي و مكنتش فاهمة حاجة في الدنياالمعقدة -الخالية من البراءة يعني - إلا إن في ناس في فلسطين بتتقتّل و العالم ساكن و مبيتكلمش من حرب 48 و من قبل كده بكتير. بابا سمعنا القصيدة في سيارتنا ...أنا فاكرة الشريط كان لونه إيه و فاكرة إحساسي ساعتها قوي قوي قوي زي ما يكون حلم بيتردد كل ليلة في نومي. جسمي قشعر ، على الرغم من إنّي دلوقتي بفكّر إزاي بابا كان بيسمّعنا حاجات كثيبة كده ، بس لما كبرت فهمت إنّي فعلاّ كنت محتاجة أسمعها ، عشان لو أنا مش عايشة في وسطهم و حاسّة بيهم ، لازم أحس بيهم في أي حاجة و أكبر على كده عشان أتعود و لما تقوم الثورة العربية الكبرى أبقى مبسوطة بجد. الحمد لله إن لسه الناس فيها أمل أصلاً تغير!
دقِّة الأنشودة مش على قد كدا بس دا اللي لقيته للأسف ، لو حد لقى دقة أفضل أبقى شاكرة والله.

آخر حاجة ، أنا عايزة بس أكتب مقطعين بحبهم في القصيدة و شايفة إنهم معبّرين قوي في الزمن دا. ممكن لو مش هتسمعو القصيدة كلها تقرأوا الكام بيت دول

الحـــــــــــــرُ يعـــــــرف ما تريــــد المحكمــــــــة
وقُضاتـــــــــه سلفـــــــــاً قــــــــد ارتشفــوا دمه
لا يرتجي دفعاً لبهتان رمـــــــــاه به الطغـــــــــاة
المجرمون الجالسون على كراسي القضـــــــــاة
حكموا بما شاءوا وسيق أبوك في أغلالـــــــــــه

دا واحد...و الثاني

كذبوا وقالوا عـــن بطولتــــــــــه خيانــــــــــــــــة
وأمامنا التقريـــــــــر ينطــــــــــــق بالإدانــــــــــة
هذا الذي قالوه عنه غداً يردد عـن ســــــــــــواه
ما دمت تبحث عن أبِيٍّ في البلاد ولا تــــــــــراه

اسم القصيدة "نم يا صغيري" و لينك القصيدة كاملة هنا
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Art and Artists are two different things!

"This is a post from deep within"

I often wonder about the conclusion or the consequence I will get from writing all those thoughts down on my blogs. I often confuse writing my own thoughts with writing thoughts that would address humanity in a way that is unforgettable, with feelings that are palpable and words that are thinkable. I never got to experience the importance of my writings two years from today; every word was a mere consolation to my own struggles, or shall I say, simple experiences.
I think the first thing that tugs every artist into that precise kind of art is the self-struggle they are put through along the phases of their lives. There is always a need to run away from everything, to find shelter and a beautiful escape into something - and then the escape becomes the addiction, the habit, the talent. Everything then takes a path that we all know: casual pieces (either in music, writing, painting or drawing..etc) that are shared only on a personal level. And then things go step by step until you find yourself unable to be extremely happy UNLESS you're doing your own special art. It's a cure, but only if you know perfectly well how to take advantage of that.
Then you get to a point where you suffer with your incapability to create -- another phase of life probably interferes with your artistic thoughts, and then you either become numb, or you become so miserably exhausted from all the attempts that are left on your desktop or your folder as drafts. Too many draft. Just too many that you sense failure dragging you downwards, though inwardly, you're hysterically addicted. Still are.
This is the point I need to talk about the most in this article; the point where you start questioning your own talent and whether or not it's doing people any good.
Does your music inspire people to write more purposeful lyrics to be sung?
Do your portraits speak about something beautiful God has created, for people to ponder, deeply?
Do your writings hold ideas that can change the world in a way, or lessons and stories that let people know they are never alone? That we're all in this together and all we need is to understand that our thoughts are just about the same in different minds?
Let's face it, many of us never had these purposes when we started loving that artistic difference within us. Perhaps none of us now thinks they can truly, thoroughly change the world with some mere artistic piece. But you know, you can only achieve what you really believe in. Or say, what you really fight for before death's visit, let's just not be idealistic here.
For now, please remember that your art isn't yours, or let's say it's not yours alone. Your art is for the whole world, even if you think it's awful. The way we have different tastes is the reason why artists are still creating, because some people will loathe them, other people will fall in love.
Please right your purposes if they're wrong, or create them if you only use your art for your own consolation. Please put in mind that your art is an important factor in the lives of others. Compose lovingly. Portray inspiringly. Write wholeheartedly.
On a final note, never forget that you're a great source of inspiration to everyone, even if you don't get to see that. Here is me telling you.

Inspire on!

Image Source

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My Childhood - Loose Bloggers Consortium (LBC)

This is my very first post with the Loose Bloggers Consortium (LBC) including Rummuser, Anu, Ashkok, Gaelikka, Grannymar, Conrad, Padmum, Anki, Will Knott, Maria The Silver Fox, Noor, Paul, Plain Joe, Rohit and myself, where we have a Weekly topic to discuss.

I remember writing a blogpost here some time ago that partially talked about my childhood in a way.
Like everyone else, I wanted to grow up, no matter what that meant to anyone. At some point in my life, I really wanted people to stop telling me "You only get to understand this when you grow up". Sad how I can now repeat the same thing, only to myself though.
I thought the worst words you can tell to a broken heart were those words, no consolation or, like the quote in The Book Thief, any wordly tricks to make us feel better. Sometimes all you do need is an honest consolation for the pain, and then when reality strikes you numb, you'll surely get to learn what that consolation actually meant.

To be quite frank, I was one stubborn child, I knew that what I had in mind must happen. I knew that I wanted to be different, insanely different. I remember back then when I used to live outside Egypt (UAE), I had a friend who was way older than myself, and by that I mean that she was 19 or something. And I was 6.
She was my neighbor. She was Algerian, which means I was lucky enough to understand her language. She talked Arabic too well with me. (In case you don't know, Algerians talk French more than Arabic, because of the French colonization). Mum used to tell me off for the age difference between us.
Which makes me jump to the conclusion question: What difference did it make, if we had the same definition of a true friendship?
I probably will never forget how beautiful she was, how nice she was to me, as a child. We will never meet again, however, I will never forget how she taught me what friendship meant no matter how old.

I dreamt of being a Gynecologist. Reason? Because I knew too many women are shy enough to go to male doctors. Yes, dreams of a child are so innocent!
And then somehow, and I really don't know why or how did that start, my story with poetry took off.
It was every Friday. Coincidence? I don't think so!
There was a weekly newspaper dad used to buy, it had many writings of young poets. I used to collect them and guard them in my desk. Then I started writing them down on my agenda so that I may memorize them or read them whenever I wanted to remember war and martyrs, because most of them were about Palestine, the martyrs of Palestine, and war on Arabs.
I still remember a few lines of one of them:
أبُثُّ إليك وفاة العرب فهل يا نِزار توارى الغضب
أبُثُّ إليك وفاة أبي و أمي و أختي بِلامَ سبب
فهل يا نزارُتوارى النهار و هل يا نزار تموت الشُعب

I probably will never forget them!
I remember them more than I remember the very first piece I ever wrote. And I remember that back then, mourning the Arab world has become my ultimate thought.
Maybe that's the only reason for my poetry having this dismal touch?

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Kübler-Ross model

In other words, the Five Stages of Grief. We all know them, but I just felt like they are important now, in this stage of our lives. Please consider.

1. Denial — "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me."

Denial is usually only a temporary defense for the individual. This feeling is generally replaced with heightened awareness of possessions and individuals that will be left behind after death.

2. Anger — "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; '"Who is to blame?"

Once in the second stage, the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue. Because of anger, the person is very difficult to care for due to misplaced feelings of rage and envy.

3. Bargaining — "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."

The third stage involves the hope that the individual can somehow postpone or delay death. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. Psychologically, the individual is saying, "I understand I will die, but if I could just do something to buy more time..."

4. Depression — "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die... What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"

During the fourth stage, the dying person begins to understand the certainty of death. Because of this, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time crying and grieving. This process allows the dying person to disconnect from things of love and affection. It is not recommended to attempt to cheer up an individual who is in this stage. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed.

5. Acceptance — "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

In this last stage, the individual begins to come to terms with her/his mortality or that of a loved one.

Source: Wiki