SAYED DARWISH

I picked his CD from Diwan. A broken copy. I opened it and tried it to see the voice clarity. A. was concerned of the sound quality. I smile, fianlly someone more detailed oriented than myself.... well, not particularly good all the time. The details annoy me at times if it is something I want, so to heaven with the details and analysis, What the heck I just wanted it; and second because I am becoming a bit of a bigger picture WITH the detailed one. Brilliant Mix I must say!

And... I got the CD. A. insisted that we test it, and I did. The quality was not good and that I loved. I can detect the scratching, and squeezing of the old gramaphone needle, and that what I wanted. Something to transfer me to that old time. To Monsieur Madgy, my physics professor who I adored, singing to us one day at school (8th grade), Mounira el Mahdeya and we laughing and he being serious. I remember that I went home that day asking tons of questions about this lady, and totally in love with the agnoy and sad song he was singing.

I shoot-off topic ---these days a lot!

But anyways, I am just inlove with whatever is Ancient. God is ancient..so they taught me..... I love whatever is Sad. Whatever touches and comprehend silent. Whatever is silent and I do is squeezed in pain yet produce the best music. And proud of the pain that can produce music... because he/she/it knows that only through pain the best music is produced.

So I got the CD. Sayed Darwish. 2 songs. I put it in the car and drove. Listening to it. And I could detach from the company. It was the best music ever. COuld not get all the words. But the music is enough to take me there to visit this feeling that i know. The feeling transcended inward to me was so touching. For some reason I miss Alexandria and the feeling that I get there. It makes my stomach aches, but I just like that. Something in Alex intrigues me. A distant place that although I have no physical home there, but I recognize it and sink in it. On what level? I do not know.

I have never left Alex happy. Everytime something would happen to make me feel sad and at time angry. I never went there when I am happy either. I go there whenever I do feel sad. And I leave more sad. I had glimpses of some good times. Actually only once. I guess I love this place because I can be alone there. Be free to walk around and sit silently. I have my places. It was the first place I went to when I came from the states. When I was suffocated. I found out the little motel I stay in. I liked the room; the old smell; the sea; the location..... There is something familiar there that I love. I always wondered why.... but I have no traces of why Alex in particular would drill deep. Maybe the sea? I do not really know.

In my room, next to my new library, I have 2 maps of alex. Hanging on the wall. A new framed portrait of AbuQueer battle of the french. There is something there. The scent maybe, the people could be.....

Maybe because it gives me the freedom to walk by the sea. An open space to which I could just walk endlessly and look forward to. I do not know.

But Sayed Darwish..... i saw glimpses of his theatre that I walked by last summer; of the old movie by Karam Mutawe3 that I saw when I was 9 or 10. Intrigued by a scene of him listening to his 'watch' ticking and he alone can produce a tempo and music in his ears. In between the tick-tick-tick, he was able to insert his music and feelings.... I, at that age, when I saw this shot, I remember that I immediately recognized a similarity with him.

SENSITIVITY. Extreme sensitivity to everything around.

A bless or a curse! A curse I would say.

And it ruined my life... yet gave me pleasure..... fully mixed with deep pain... And at times, melanged with the smell of death.

I do miss Alex