6 Oct 2008


And my Alex was intended to be a 'megalopolis'. Created in the shape of what is called a chlamys, a macedonian military cloak, with walls that would strech endlessly into the distance, streets wider than any yet seen. An ideal city. Laid in such a way as to benefit from sea breezes yet providing shelter from the wind. Aristotle will call my alex so. A library. A lighthouse.

When the originial founder, Alexandre, died his generals quarrelled on who to lead it. As if Alexandria refused to be led by anyone but the original leader, my alex split.

But it was for its learning and teaching that my alex was chiefly known. The library was built there, dedicated to the muses. From the start, the plan for my alex was not like any other. Bigger than elsewhere. Authentic. Different. Original. Created with a purpose.

And it got tired. From the greed and selfishness spreading everywhere. The endless fights to obtain it and control it. Naively or kindly or even dignified as my alex had stood always, refused to utter a word. Allowing, under the cloak of surrendering, and depending on the military origin, to be used for all other purpose than the one created for. Watch silently the burning of its library; the destruction of its lighthouse. Forgetting its real purpose and original nature. Allowing to be inhabited by those who are scared and timid. Incapable and unable. Selfish and abusive. Leaving itself to be inhabited by lazyness. Purposless. Transferring it to be their replica. But unfortunately, a mild copy that is struggling between the great past, the bright future and the lost present. Forgetting by the second what it was created for. To be a destination to those muses and continue shelter those in need. But in doing that, it will remain Alexandria. A center. Not a deserted corner.

Alexander died. Muses left. Chlamys cracked. Breeze squeezed. Shelter exposed.

I can no longer recognize my alex

انا بعشق البحر
زيك يا حبيبي حزين
و ساعات زيك مجنون
و مسافر و مهاجر
و ساعات زيك زعلان
و ساعات مليان بالصمت
انا بعشق البحر



Blogger Cave said...

... and your alex goes unrecognized.

10/06/2008 12:27:00 pm  
Blogger haal said...

only YOU would think so. You have never seen alex the way I always did. If I do not recognize it now, it is because I feel like a squeezed stranger in its, once upon a time, wide street. Can no longer walk and sing under its protective shelter. But I never stopped visiting it. Never stopped closing my eyes to remember my real alex. refusing to accept what it had become now and share in accepting it. Even if it did that to itself.

10/06/2008 01:08:00 pm  
Blogger haal said...

I will never be a partner in this crime. even if it means that I never walk in alex again.

10/06/2008 01:09:00 pm  
Blogger kareem said...

chlamys? I never knew this term. which walls do you mean? does it still exist or it was destroyed.

you write beautifully.

10/06/2008 04:52:00 pm  
Blogger Lisa Simpson said...

Are you ok?

10/08/2008 07:18:00 pm  
Blogger Néphèle said...

i am not sure it will provide you with any emotional "association", but greek ppl, who cherish alex and keep it in the depths of the heart, are all so disappointed in the shadow that is left of her (coz it IS a she).. But, as you said, we all close our eyes and remember our real alex, and sigh keeping them closed just for a few moments longer to hold on to the picture

10/08/2008 11:03:00 pm  

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