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?
Maybe..


15 comments:

ibhog | August 12, 2011 at 10:19 PM

I didn't know about this blog!

And your post is simply beautiful :)

Anonymous | August 12, 2011 at 10:30 PM

I remember when I was 6 years old I met my lebanese cousin in Jordan for the very first time, she was 20 bs we became 'best friends' ma3 eni I didnt see her for another six years.

Sweet post :D Noor xx

Knee | August 12, 2011 at 10:32 PM

@ibhog Well, it's been there for a while =D
Thank you, da bs mn zou2ak wallahi =)

@Anynomous basha =P Yes it really doesn't matter as long as you're always young at heart =)
Teslamee babe <3

Maria | August 13, 2011 at 12:23 AM

Welcome to LBC. I had many older cousins who I remember being my friend or at least playing with their maternal feelings. I am looking forward to reading more of your work.

Knee | August 13, 2011 at 2:06 AM

Thank you!! You guys are awesome! =)

Rummuser | August 13, 2011 at 2:18 PM

I am now a senior citizen myself and my father still tells me that I will understand only when I reach his age which is 94! I tell the same thing to my 40 year old son!

My childhood is over at my blog. Have a go at it.

gaelikaa | August 13, 2011 at 5:04 PM

Sorry, I should have edited my previous comment, there is an incomplete sentence in it. It should have read: "I once visited some Indian friends in Jordan." Hope this clears up any confusion.

gaelikaa | August 13, 2011 at 5:08 PM

I left two comments. I lost the first one and the second one alone is appearing. My first comment introduced me as an LBC member, Maria who blogs as 'gaelikaa', unlike the other Maria who blogs as the Silver Fox. I also mentioned that I once visited Jordan and that I am fascinated by the middle east and would love to visit again. I also linked back to my own LBC post and invited you to visit.

Hope to see you over at mine.

Knee | August 14, 2011 at 12:15 AM

@Rummuser Lol I guess we'll never grow old unless we're dead? :D I'll give it a go in a few =)

@Gaelikaa Yup, I think people need to understand the Middle East before they judge. You know, you have to see things to judge them the right way (:

Rohit | August 14, 2011 at 1:28 AM

I agree with you, friendship by definition is between individuals who agree to be at the same level at each other regardless of age. I had one such friend who was a lot older than I was at the time...understandably my parents had concerns as they felt I might fall prey to bad influence..but he was fine.

Reading your posts and noticing the number of times you quote The Book Thief now makes me want to read it. Even Noor keeps recommending that book...I must now! Just waiting to finish the book I started last year lol..

And yes, welcome again to LBC! Hope you are enjoying the fun! =D

Grannymar | August 14, 2011 at 10:43 AM

Welcome Knee, to the LBC. This is a very interesting post and I look forward to many more in the weeks to come. When I go back to Dublin for visits, it often includes time with friends from my childhood most of whom were older than I was. Real friends are ageless.

Noor | August 14, 2011 at 11:36 PM

I love this post. Sorry for the late comment. Your friendship doesn't sound weird at all to me, living abroad really changes you in so many ways, like the people you get to meet and such.
It's amazing that you know how your relationship with poetry started. I love that. <3

Knee | August 16, 2011 at 1:22 PM

@Rohit yes it really is a great novel. If you love writing and words, this is the book for you! =)
Thank you!! =D

@Grannymar it's so cool that you are actually still in contact with them!! I'd love to reconnect oneday :)

@Noor thank you babe, you're so close to knowing my whole history =D

padmum | August 17, 2011 at 5:16 PM

Even today I have friends of all ages--many of my colleagues (including my boss) call me Aunty. Others call me Padminiji. My mother's friends are now my peers! So I understand your friendship and admiration for your 19 year old neighbour.

Lovely post..wish you had translated your poem into English! Welcome and keep writing.

Knee | August 18, 2011 at 2:50 AM

@Padmum That's the spirit you guys! =D Friendship indeed is an ageless thing! =)
Well, I'm so sorry I couldn't translate it, it's about the death of the Arabs' conscious among the martyrs of Palestine.

Thank you for stepping by! =)

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