Arabs love swords. She shows them off and dances with them, buys them and hangs them as decorations on the walls. They are made of iron and decorated with silver and gold. In his beautiful boasts, Al-Mutanabbi used the sword as a companion to pen and paper. The most famous among the swords was Zulfiqar, the sword of Imam Ali. It was handed over by the then Iraqi Foreign Minister, Ibrahim Al-Jaafari, to former US Defense Secretary Rumsfeld. It will remain a disgrace on the front of the occupying industries.
I watch historical films and see actors wearing fake beards and dueling with wooden swords. Where are these of Antara who wanted to kiss the swords because they sparkled like the lightning of Abla’s mouth? How far is Al-Absi’s sword from Farid Al-Atrash’s sword when he sings: “If a sword passed between us, we would not know whether it would shed my blood or your blood!” The unique image drawn by Bechara El-Khoury stops me and I wonder: how can sword and blood come to mind in someone describing a strong embrace?
Maybe talking about kisses and hugs is better than talking about swords in these days when there is no longer any mind in a sane person’s head. This is a book that a neighbor left in the building’s library, the title of which is: “Hug Therapy”. One of the nice things about our building is that at the entrance there is a shelf where residents leave books they no longer need. The shelf was light, then it began to groan under the weight of encyclopedias and novels. There is no more space for paper in the apartments. Everyone is turning to digital libraries.
The author of the book, Céline Rivière, is a psychiatrist specializing in neuroaffective therapies. She exaggerates in listing the benefits of hugging. She rebalances blood pressure. She improves the happiness hormone. She expels depression. Softens the skin. Delays aging. She keeps marital boredom away. She lifts my spirits. Improves mood and reduces the heaviness of daily life. I add myself: and by the weight of satellite TV analysts.
The author believes that touch is necessary to feel human warmth. Times are difficult and warmth is needed. He confirms that the French are still suffering, physically and psychologically, the effects of the periods of isolation that accompanied the spread of “Corona”. With the pandemic, touching has been demonized and has become synonymous with death. A person would like to hug his loved ones, but he is afraid of closeness and feels guilty. Fear has established itself among people and eliminated handshakes and spontaneous movements. They shook hands at the elbow.
Like lizards, health safety regulations have chased them away from all screens. Stay at home and don’t go out. There is nothing more difficult for a Frenchman than to deprive himself of the possibility of going to a bar and having love affairs and encounters of affection. There is no pleasure in a kiss with a mask. Not one on the lips of a lover, not two in the greeting, and not four on the cheeks of a friend. As for touching the nose with the nose, they do not know. Millions of French people have agreed to hug their dogs and cats as compensation.
People differ in their opinions on hugging depending on their culture. The Japanese don’t like this and stick to polite bows. Americans practice it lightly when meeting with friends, accompanied by a pat on the back. While the French Laurie sings: “I need love, kisses, hugs, every day”. But the English mock the French because they are a people for whom love stops at the borders of the lips. They “bargain” for hours in the streets, in cafes and in subway cars, so that there is no energy left in the homes to do anything else.
Umm Kulthum was bolder than Lori when she sang, eighty years ago, for the longing qibla, which requires thousands instead of one. As for Abdel Halim, she directed her enthusiasm towards her homeland: “With hugs, oh our country, oh sweet, with hugs.” Perhaps the brown nightingale went to one of the girls in the village, since her illness prevented him from reaching her. Then Kazem Al-Saher came to laugh at us: “I kiss your soul.” What kind of soul, man, is lost? Seasonal greetings.
2023-12-31 00:03:23
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