Lebanese Jester

Me, my Lebanon, and I.com weblog

Weep silently.

I weep silently, just like a hungry new born who has it in him not make his selfish mother feel guilty for not feeding him.

I weep silently, just like a toddler who fell down the stairs and his silent cries were ignored.

I weep silently, just like a teenager who had his heart crushed for the very first time and no one noticed your pain.

I weep silently, just like the first time you left your parental cocoon and felt lonely.

I weep silently, just like when you finally realize that “for better or for worst” is not a lifetime warranty.

I weep silently, just like when you see the one person you love the most on his death bed, and you are the only one present.

But shed rivers of tears my Lebanese son; for soon you will find yourself without the 10452km2 your ancestors shed their blood in order to call this land a permanent home.

When push comes to shove you will have to decide, either to put your life at risk for the “cause” , or to convince yourself (like I did) that now is not the right time; use your trump card (the other inherited citizenship) and take the easy way out.

In both cases, I can assure you my son that you will shed oceans of tears; and this is the curse of being born Lebanese.

N.B: You know where my stash of weapons is.

April 21, 2011 Posted by | Tarek | , , | Leave a comment

My pride and joy !

No it is not a song by Stevie Ray Vaughan (although it is one of his favorites), but a sens of pride, and here is why, so go check it out !

http://thejesterson.wordpress.com/

August 31, 2009 Posted by | Stevie Ray Vaughan, Tarek | | 6 Comments

Wlek fri2ouna bi ri7a taybeh !

Sick and tired of half backed local election speeches vulgarly delivered by erected dicks from all sides, pretending to have my country’s best interest at heart.
Like every father, I had dreams and hopes for my son. Such dreams included a happy childhood away from struggle and strife (civil unrest, let alone civil war), and a deep rooted sense of pride in the fact that he was Lebanese. I am fully aware that the “cocodi” has long been gone, the family trips to “Spinneys” by the airport road can no longer be undertaken, “Saint Simon” and “Accapulco” have now been replaced by “Tasli7 ashikmon”, that Christmas does no longer officially begin with the lights on Hamra street, and “Toyland” is no longer there. Many memories I would have liked to relive through Tarek (my son). Granted people evolve and things change, but a great part of local history has been wiped out and no one seems to care. None of those erected dicks (running for election) seem to give a damn about keeping this “life line” going. What we are left with today in this cursed country of mine are landmarks reflecting the hatred that has been brewing for years and suddenly exploded.
Today I took my son for a haircut and for a split second I was transported back in time, back to the days when my dad took me to the local barber shop (now we have “salon de coiffure”). It made me realize (although a normal evolution) that even the simplest of experiences I would have liked to share with Tarek is no longer possible; for the times have changed. If only they have changed for the best, I wouldn’t have minded. I came to realize that many of my childhood’s cherished memories I will never relive or share with him. He will never ride the bumper cars at the “Cocodi”, swim in the “Saint Simon”, go to Toyland or 2aisar 3amer, cinema Saroulla…. Etc.
At the “salon de coiffure” today I could smell talcum powder and Old Spice, but it was only in my head.
So to my dear leaders (all, with no exception) Wlek fri2ouna bi ri7ha taybeh, but be kind enough to pick any of the following, for it reminds me of days long gone but never forgotten.

Old Spice

Tabac

Balafre

Pino Silvestre

May 27, 2009 Posted by | Balafre, Children, Christmas, Civil war, Family, Hamra street, Old Spice, Pino Silvestre Vidal, Saint Simon, Tabac, Tarek | | 1 Comment

Blessed I am.

Blessed I am for I still enjoy the love of those who are dear to me. Those people who have put up with my mood swings, my very short and bad temper over the years; reminded me today how blessed I was.
below is the testimony of the one that counts the most.

birthday-card-tio1

Just in case you ask why he counts the most, here is one of many reasons.

March 25, 2009 Posted by | Tarek | , | 4 Comments

!

Lost, lost as a child’s first thought. I must have arms to hold me.
Lost without lovin’ care. I must have my fair share.
Fair, fair is a changing word. Fair is an honored promise.
Justice if you’re still there. I will have my fair share.
Justice is a lady. Lay me down with justice in a long white gown.
With a breath of love, we can share.
Share, sleep with me if you dare. Celebrate my fair share.

Fair, fair is a changing word. Fair is an honored promise.
Justice if you’re still there. I will have my fair share.
Justice is a lady. Lay me down with justice in a long white gown.
With a breath of love, we can share.
Share, sleep with me if you dare. Celebrate my fair share.

September 19, 2008 Posted by | Memories, Music, One on One, Seals And Croft, Tarek | 6 Comments