Miniatures ..

When I was a child

Though I am still so

I was asked about my passion

What my passion was?

I did not have any 

But mum said it was reading

I looked around and said

I think it's knowledge

Mum gave me that stare                             

I said

It's reading. 

When I was a child

I think now i'm getting old

I was asked again

What my passion was? 

I raised my head above 

and said

"Travelling"

I thought I grew up

and I realized that

I couldn't afford.

I said there should be a way

I must find the one who divided the world

and erase all of these unavailing boundaries.

Now that I am half-adult,

half-child

The three passions are haunting me:

Reading, knowledge and travelling

I said 

There must be a common point

I read, and then, I knew

I knew that travelling is easy

Reading, knowledge and travelling

Reading their history endowed my brain with a vast knowledge

That knowledge reinforced my awareness

I was aware that

moving in space is not the right definition to travelling;

moving in one's encephalon is.

I was aware  that,

knowledge knows no geographic boundaries

and so history.
Reading their history made me finally realize
the countries I thought Utopian
were not paradise.
The color of the ocean was not blue
It was red, suffused with bloodshed
The nature was not green,
It was grey, filled with fumes
I realized that travelling needs no plane,
No passport
No visa
Travelling needs intellect, and a library.

Years later, I will be dead
I won't seek any of the passions I was fascinated by
A scented soil, that's the only thing I would possibly
seek for.
Borders won't bother me anymore
A scented soil, that's all.
This time I will be given a map
They will ask me to choose a suitable land
As death grants the one it grasps with freedom
I will stare,
The same way my mother used to stare at me
They will tell me I am the seed
I will keep staring
To finally settle down along the Northern African shores of
the Mediterranean Sea
And I will be sure that
a rosy-lighted land, that's what I will see
They will shout "choose a land"
And right then, I will shout louder
I won't choose any.
I don't know any.
The only land where I was and will be
 will, beautifully, pick me.

When I was a child, they taught me
that a soldier's duty is to die for his country
Now, I grew up to realize that
we are all soldiers, yet the duties differ
There are those who die for the land
and those who live for it
The thing is that,
We are all soldiers, but, love comes before.



17/08/2016
02:02

They Kill Humanity, and Humanity Kills Us..

*


By definition, humanity is universally known as "the quality or state of being human",
 "the quality or state of being kind to other people or to animals", or it is simply "all people". The fact that we are all "Humans" implies that co-existence should reign over all individuals belonging to this race. Theoretically speaking, we may say that humanity can be idealistically achieved. Yet, in practice, claiming such things seems to hold within its ties heavy paradoxes.

The question we should ask is, definitions and reality, do they match ?

As a matter of fact, the death of humanity within human beings announced the collapse of the world. People no longer care about the common good, Common does  not even exist, as it seems to be supplanted by the Self. The absence of values and the disbelief in Humanity as a value have paved the way for a corrupt existence in which people tend to irritate other people, to destroy them, to torture them, hence, to kill them, as if their only aim is to find a way out of their race. The problem is that we only talk about "the failure of humanity" when an incident is highly-mediatized , which normalized the accumulation of deaths we see everyday, the successive wars, the horrible intentions and the tacky feelings we share, including hatred, jealousy, egoism etc .. People today are required to be aware that the look of hatred towards someone is a crime, a bad word is a crime, gossiping is a crime, hypocrisy is a crime, throwing garbage everywhere in the streets is a crime, hurting someone's feelings is a crime, in fact, every single practice that opposes the values of humanity is , undeniably, a crime, let alone murdering a human being and taking his soul out of him. This is the road monsters keep crossing to kill humanity. As a reaction, paradoxically, humanity kills humanitarians and leaves the floor for monsters to kill humans. 

Weird as it seems, humanity is tantalizing humans. Starting from the KKK till the modern day ISIS, terrorist organizations have made of life a bloody scene through which we see no future. The question in this context is, how come that humanity kills? Well, it does kill, it kills those who still feel bad for the world, those who still care about the human within them, those who still have kind hearts, those who still suffer for mankind, and those who still struggle so that humanity would not be buried in dirty hands. Little do we know, those who are plotting to ruin the universe are about to outnumber those who are trying to make it safe for living, which makes the danger grows larger, and their influence spreads wider. Hence, humanitarians today, are more responsible than ever, not in the sense that they are supposed to donate money ,the classic ways of humanity,but they are expected to rise people's awareness about the coming days humanity will encounter, and to drive them to the lights of knowledge. 
In brief, giving someone an amount of money won't save the world, as billions of people are needing it; giving them erudition and knowledge will obviously make humanity a home for the world. 
A poor cannot give you money, yet can give you knowledge.
You are never a human, until your heart absorbs the entire humanity.
You are never a human, until your mind worries about the pains of the whole humanity.
You are never a human, until you feed the human within you the same way you feed the humans in the world, with love.
You are never a human, until you sleep out, and give your bed for humanity take a rest on.




The Painting:
The East Side Gallery*: it consists of 105 paintings by artists from all over the world, painted in 1990 on the east side of the Berlin Wall. 

References: 
www.flickr.com