A Bubbly Baby, a Restless Rockstar

Note:
Excuse the recurring incoherence. I wrote this entry over a span of months. I deliberately chose not to edit, in order to stick to the true illustration of my observations as they occurred.

My subject, Nessreen, is not a personal acquaintance of mine. My study of her is derived from her blog and merely based on my literary admiration and sense of penmanship for her, which brings me to my next point:

Some readers may perceive me as obsessive and impressionable. That would be because I am obsessive and impressionable, but I try to keep it healthy.
Others may go as far as to assume that I strive to stalk Nessreen; enshrine her in my cryptic basement, lurk about in her milieu, mask my face with her underwear and sniff like there is no tomorrow, the works. For those quick thinkers, I have but one assurance: I don’t have a basement.

Lastly, the unadvised switches between 2nd and 3rd person in the post are part of keeping with the spontaneous spirit. At times, I felt I needed the individual to be addressed directly. Most of the time, however, Nesreen is more ‘talked about’, than ‘talked to’.




Old habits die hard. But I remember back then, my fingers sprung into action every time I had a real thought. Now, I see and hear things so much more then I used to, and for a while I did write about them, but now life’s blows have eroded my writer’s spirit and somewhere along the way, the flame went out…..actually, that’s bull shit. I just can’t be bothered.


She attributes herself as a rock star and, reading some of her previous entries does make me imagine her on a Harley, riding 140 km/hr. on a an empty highway, chasing the sunset, but a more contemporary perception of her would be somewhat less provocative. Things change, and so have her posts.


Reading her these days, and when I say ‘reading her’ I mean reading what she writes to read her through what she writes, I am reminded of my brief foray into literature.
I found fascination in the works Shakespeare, not for the fatally fancy lingo, but because I discovered that the material demanded thinking; creative and abstract thinking and all this while respecting whatever intelligence I might have had as a teenager, and while allowing me to hold my own opinion of it. Growing up under the circumstances as I did, this was a privilege.


Nessreen is like what fascinated me as a younger reader, full of expression, lessons; learned, unlearned and yet to be learned. Secrets, flamboyance, ice cream humor with toppings of irony, an enigmatic progression, crossed fingers, limitless possibilities, outrage and a charm that can kindle sane and disturbed individuals alike. Multi-dimensional explanations, where things are left to how much an observer can observe, how far he can chase, where he’d stop, what he’d settle with.

Did Hamlet really have an encounter with his father’s spirit, or was he insane, or did the devil take control of his mind? Was Macbeth the good guy or the bad guy? And how did this valiant army general’s balls land in his ambitious wife’s coin purse?
Conflicts between a lot of good and a lot of bad’ve seldom had safe repercussions. Only one of the two things can come out of a situation like that; either one eclipses the other or they cancel each other out, a k a self-destruction, a k a, not a good thing.


I often argue with friends about the importance of --- art and literature in our world, past, present and especially the future. Great thinkers have allowed us access into their worlds with their work to share their knowledge. I, for one believe that what we write and create reflects us or a part of us to others. Debates will always be there, is it just trivial rhetoric or poignant insinuations? Is it mere impedimenta of conceit that hinders real progress or an essential acumen that keeps us vigilant against our faintest weakness and yet, our mightiest strength as the dominant species; the human mind?

The truth is, in my view at least, that it is everything listed above and more. Moreover, we should know that whatever novel we read, song we listen to, painting we observe, is ultimately about the artist himself. (De Ardappeleters is about the painter’s respect for people who work hard and earn an honest living, not about potatoes or people eating them, Eric Clapton’s song ‘The Core’ was inspired by a guitar riff that he came up with while working on the right sound to convey his fears, in Apocalypto, Mel Gibson prompts us to foresee what’s going to happen by reminding us of what already has, and almost every other hip-hop song now is usually about the performer’s ambiguous journey from tacky outfits, petty crimes and street shenanigans to money, fame, tacky outfits and 20 inch rims, and the heavy influx of whoes that follows).


I was once asked by Nessreen as to what I would do if my love interest were a writer. I didn’t respond in due time; not because I chose to be cocky about it, but simply because I didn’t know what I would do. As I’ve said before, especially when it comes to relationships, what I’d do, can be ill advised in so many ways, so I’d rather not ponder.


She said that she’d like to be with someone who’d understand the way her mind works. That’s every girl with hopes n dreams. These are do’s and don’t’s of the average and in her case, that’d hardly be anything more than the tip of this iceberg of criteria we’re looking at. I think he should not only understand the way your mind works, but know why it does what it does.

‘The Pool of factors’ comes to my mind when I think of da man of her dreams. It’s a place where hungry great whites lurk and hunt, playful dolphins perform for affection and salmon, where mermaids pluck their harps and amateurs aren’t allowed to dive.

He needs to be aware that she grew up in a house full of boys with an older sister as her symbol of womanhood, he needs to know that she is a smart and intelligent person, and to that an extrovert, without shriveling with intimidation. He needs to have the wisdom to percept that this energy, and the coextensive lack of it, is to be channeled towards building a healthy relationship. She probably spends enough time practicing intellectual modesty with the people she socialize and works with and her sanctuary is hardly the place for such charitable upkeep, not with her spouse anyway.

Where’s Waldo?

While reading one of her entries, I noticed she has, or at least had till that point, an inclination towards Saudi squires. While this might just be a matter of mere personal preference, it draws a little attention to the natural affinity she seems to have for this place; which is rather natural and reasonable. The word –home- redefines its meaning in the lives of so many people, who’ve lived here all their lives, without the entitlement to a sustainable amount of homogeneity. Instead, as in my dad’s case, he was reminded of how temporary his stay was in his own home, and how what was to be appreciated of him was actually resented, and what is to be scorned was actually desired: the former being his corporate contribution and natural sense of belonging etc. and the latter, being his imminent departure.

From third to second person…..

Now, if you think you’ve found your needle in the hay sack, then its jingles all the way and “This Guy” you high horsed some entries ago, seems like quite a prospect. Is he really smarter then you though? Or is he just really good at acting smarter for the time being? You are a desirable girl and we guys can be shockingly complicated sometimes. I would hardly condemn this gentleman for wanting to be desired by you. In some cases, it soothes our ego to tame a wild dame and have her purr. I’m not saying that Mr. Right has to be smarter then you. Ultimately, it all comes down to having a working relationship with him. Does he read what you write? Or go beyond to wonder why you don’t write what you don’t?

Please, take no offense.
I’ve only commented on what you’ve made public.

The Envy

Something she has that I don’t. Her articulation, that’s light and clear. As I was being sucked into the vortex of her entries, I took a moment to ask myself, “What is it about this person that I can’t find elsewhere on blog sites?” As someone who likes to kindle with eloquence from time to time himself, I put my own literary abilities on the scale and that’s when it dawned upon me; While she swifts through the language, I make a meal out of it. Her style flirts, mine tries to regulate, hers is engaging, mine, seems presumptuous. She welcomes anyone and everyone who know how to read, I on a good day would impress a post menopause widow, who’d like the idea of knowing a relatively young man with enough anachronism to validate her disapproval of Barbra Streisand as a genuine artist.
Masha'Allah Nessreen, you're so blessed....I hope you know that.