Rachel Hajar's Blog: My Life in Doha - Posts Tagged "magic"
Lawful magic and a blind Arab poet
“Clouddust of battle over their heads was like the night
And glitter flashes from the motion of our swords
Lighted the darkness like falling stars.”
Bashar Ibn Burd (714-784 AD)
(Trans. By HH)
The verse above is extracted from a poem by Bashar Ibn Burd praising his tribe during a battle with an enemy. The visual comparisons used are remarkable and one would never suspect on reading the above verse that the poet was blind. Bashar Ibn Burd was born blind.
Some famous poets in Western literature were also blind: Homer, Milton, Helen Keller, Jose Luis Borges, James Thurber, James Joyce . . . to name a few.
I sometimes wonder how blind poets/writers are able to craft beautiful words to convey a visual image . . . how do they craft the visual similes and metaphors?
Bashar Ibn Burd lived in 8th century Baghdad during the rule of the Abbasids (rulers of the Arab Empire whose capital was Baghdad from 750 AD to 1258 AD). Then as now, poetry was central to Arab social life. I have observed first hand how Arabs are fascinated with poetry. Who can forget the image of Saddam Hussein reading a poem he supposedly composed on the eve of the US bombing of Iraq? That was certainly surreal.
Historians and social observers state that no people in the world are so moved by the word, spoken or written, as the Arabs. Sometimes, I read in the newspaper how modern audiences in Baghdad, Damascus, or Cairo are stirred to the highest degree when there is a recital of poems. The poems maybe only vaguely comprehended or partially understood. The rhythm, the rhyme, and the music, produces on them the effect of what they call “lawful magic.”
In their history, there was always the sha’ir or tribal poet filling the role of historian and propagandist. The poet praised his tribe, elevating it over other tribes and denigrating or putting down other tribes. Thus, the poet boosted the morale of the tribe especially in times of war.
But another function of the poet was to write poems in praise of a ruler, and so Arab courts competed to retain in their courts the best of the Arab poets of the day and were amply compensated. Remnants of this practice still exist today. In the Arabian Gulf states there are still people who write poetry excessively praising a ruler or someone in power expecting to be amply rewarded. It is a form of social hypocrisy that is accepted in the society.
In the case of Bashar, he was condemned to death by the king (Al-Mahdi, 745 – 785 AD) because he criticized the king in a poem. That was a crime in those days. These days, such extreme punishment no longer exists but you could lose your job.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.c...
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com
And glitter flashes from the motion of our swords
Lighted the darkness like falling stars.”
Bashar Ibn Burd (714-784 AD)
(Trans. By HH)
The verse above is extracted from a poem by Bashar Ibn Burd praising his tribe during a battle with an enemy. The visual comparisons used are remarkable and one would never suspect on reading the above verse that the poet was blind. Bashar Ibn Burd was born blind.
Some famous poets in Western literature were also blind: Homer, Milton, Helen Keller, Jose Luis Borges, James Thurber, James Joyce . . . to name a few.
I sometimes wonder how blind poets/writers are able to craft beautiful words to convey a visual image . . . how do they craft the visual similes and metaphors?
Bashar Ibn Burd lived in 8th century Baghdad during the rule of the Abbasids (rulers of the Arab Empire whose capital was Baghdad from 750 AD to 1258 AD). Then as now, poetry was central to Arab social life. I have observed first hand how Arabs are fascinated with poetry. Who can forget the image of Saddam Hussein reading a poem he supposedly composed on the eve of the US bombing of Iraq? That was certainly surreal.
Historians and social observers state that no people in the world are so moved by the word, spoken or written, as the Arabs. Sometimes, I read in the newspaper how modern audiences in Baghdad, Damascus, or Cairo are stirred to the highest degree when there is a recital of poems. The poems maybe only vaguely comprehended or partially understood. The rhythm, the rhyme, and the music, produces on them the effect of what they call “lawful magic.”
In their history, there was always the sha’ir or tribal poet filling the role of historian and propagandist. The poet praised his tribe, elevating it over other tribes and denigrating or putting down other tribes. Thus, the poet boosted the morale of the tribe especially in times of war.
But another function of the poet was to write poems in praise of a ruler, and so Arab courts competed to retain in their courts the best of the Arab poets of the day and were amply compensated. Remnants of this practice still exist today. In the Arabian Gulf states there are still people who write poetry excessively praising a ruler or someone in power expecting to be amply rewarded. It is a form of social hypocrisy that is accepted in the society.
In the case of Bashar, he was condemned to death by the king (Al-Mahdi, 745 – 785 AD) because he criticized the king in a poem. That was a crime in those days. These days, such extreme punishment no longer exists but you could lose your job.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.c...
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com
A Magic Time
Last night I put my grandchildren Aziz (almost five years) and Saud (2 ½ years) to sleep. Their mother was busy, so I was delighted to stand in for the bedtime task. Putting my grandchildren to sleep always gives me great pleasure.
When I arrived in their house at 5:30 PM, Saud had finished with his bath and was brushing his teeth; Aziz was still taking a bath. They smiled happily when they saw me appear in their bathroom doorway. They simultaneously called, “Grandma, grandma . . .” both competing for my attention. Both chorused, “I want ipad.” They love to play games on the ipad. Aziz in particular is very adept with the games and he gets so engrossed in them. “Oh, I don’t have the ipad. Tell you what, we’ll watch cartoons and then I’ll read you stories.” They seemed happy with the compromise. Their Mommy (my daughter) does not keep an ipad around in her house so that her children will do other activities besides playing ipad games.
We then settled down to watch some cartoons in the TV room but after a few minutes Saud became bored and started to wander around. He found a ball and was soon happily playing with it when his Daddy arrived and his ball became a conversation piece. Aziz ran to them, fast as lightning, and snatched the ball from his brother. Saud started to cry wanting the ball back. Their father tried to persuade Aziz to give the ball back to Saud but Aziz refused. The two little boys ran around chasing each other, Saud whining, “Want ball, want ball.” I looked at my watch - almost 6:30 PM, Saud’s bedtime! I was a bit dismayed. It wasn’t good to get him upset or excited just before his bedtime. I tried also to get Aziz to give up the ball to no avail. Saud started to cry. Finally, his Dad ordered Aziz to give the ball back to Saud but Aziz said, “Never, never, neveerrrr!”
Uh, the situation was getting out of hand and I quickly scooped Saud in my arms, trying to calm him down by distracting him. Fortunately, it’s his habit to drink milk from a baby bottle before he sleeps and I calmed him down a bit with the milk bottle but there were tears in his eyes. At that moment, his Dad miraculously got the ball from Aziz and gave it to Saud who clutched it tightly in his hand and closed his eyes as though he was asleep. I carried him to his bedroom, picking up Winnie the Pooh, his favorite sleep companion. Still with closed eyes, he groped for his milk bottle, putting it to his mouth to suck. I turned the lights off, cradling his head, rocking him gently and humming a little tune. He squiggled, still clutching the ball and then put it inside his shirt over his chest, settled down, and fell asleep. But my cell phone rang! It was his mother asking if Saud was asleep! Saud woke up, sat up on my lap, sleepily muttering, “Aziz . . . want play with Aziz.” He twisted his little body from side to side in an effort to climb down from my lap, all the time whispering, “Want Aziz.” He settled down only when I started to narrate a story: “Once upon a time, there were two little brothers. Their names were Aziz and Saud. One day Saud was playing with a ball . . .” He loves to listen to stories where he is a participant. He quieted down. I rocked him gently, humming a tune softly and soon he was in dreamland . . .
In the dark, I kissed him, continuing to rock him, and softly humming a tune. I loved cuddling him. Soon, I laid him down in his bed . . . It was a rich, peaceful, and quiet time.
Aziz was watching cartoons in the TV room and I sat down with him, reading one of my books. Occasionally, Aziz would chuckle or get excited and narrate to me what was happening to a cartoon character. He was watching a Madagascar cartoon, which I also found humorous.
Aziz’ bedtime is 8:00 PM and I prepared him mentally by announcing that in “10 minutes, it will be bedtime” and he nodded and when the hour came, he gladly surrendered to the bedtime ritual. We went to his bed and by his pillow were his favorite bedtime stories. He kind of likes The Shapeys, an educational series for children. He likes to have a book all by himself and “read” it aloud. He can’t read yet but he narrates the story by looking at the pictures. He usually likes me to have another book to read. So, he “reads” aloud and I read from my book simultaneously with him so that we sounded as though we were doing a medley. After reading, we turned the bedside lamp off. The room was not dark because of a night light. Aziz does not want the room dark when he goes to sleep, unlike Saud. And then it was time to stop reading and just be quiet; no talking. After a while Aziz was also asleep . . . and the room became very, very quiet but filled with love.
Children’s bedtime can be either stressful or pleasurable, depending on the adult. This time – the hour of going to sleep – is a very special time. I cherish always the time I spend with my grandchildren. When I put them to sleep, I am happy and sad and I would remember countless bedtime moments when I used to put my children to sleep, when they were small.
Whether you live in Qatar, America, or Africa, it is important for children to feel that they could trust the world and bedtime provides such an opportunity.
Bedtime is truly a magical hour for parents and children – and for me.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.(Wednesday, January 12, 2011)
My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.c...
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com.
When I arrived in their house at 5:30 PM, Saud had finished with his bath and was brushing his teeth; Aziz was still taking a bath. They smiled happily when they saw me appear in their bathroom doorway. They simultaneously called, “Grandma, grandma . . .” both competing for my attention. Both chorused, “I want ipad.” They love to play games on the ipad. Aziz in particular is very adept with the games and he gets so engrossed in them. “Oh, I don’t have the ipad. Tell you what, we’ll watch cartoons and then I’ll read you stories.” They seemed happy with the compromise. Their Mommy (my daughter) does not keep an ipad around in her house so that her children will do other activities besides playing ipad games.
We then settled down to watch some cartoons in the TV room but after a few minutes Saud became bored and started to wander around. He found a ball and was soon happily playing with it when his Daddy arrived and his ball became a conversation piece. Aziz ran to them, fast as lightning, and snatched the ball from his brother. Saud started to cry wanting the ball back. Their father tried to persuade Aziz to give the ball back to Saud but Aziz refused. The two little boys ran around chasing each other, Saud whining, “Want ball, want ball.” I looked at my watch - almost 6:30 PM, Saud’s bedtime! I was a bit dismayed. It wasn’t good to get him upset or excited just before his bedtime. I tried also to get Aziz to give up the ball to no avail. Saud started to cry. Finally, his Dad ordered Aziz to give the ball back to Saud but Aziz said, “Never, never, neveerrrr!”
Uh, the situation was getting out of hand and I quickly scooped Saud in my arms, trying to calm him down by distracting him. Fortunately, it’s his habit to drink milk from a baby bottle before he sleeps and I calmed him down a bit with the milk bottle but there were tears in his eyes. At that moment, his Dad miraculously got the ball from Aziz and gave it to Saud who clutched it tightly in his hand and closed his eyes as though he was asleep. I carried him to his bedroom, picking up Winnie the Pooh, his favorite sleep companion. Still with closed eyes, he groped for his milk bottle, putting it to his mouth to suck. I turned the lights off, cradling his head, rocking him gently and humming a little tune. He squiggled, still clutching the ball and then put it inside his shirt over his chest, settled down, and fell asleep. But my cell phone rang! It was his mother asking if Saud was asleep! Saud woke up, sat up on my lap, sleepily muttering, “Aziz . . . want play with Aziz.” He twisted his little body from side to side in an effort to climb down from my lap, all the time whispering, “Want Aziz.” He settled down only when I started to narrate a story: “Once upon a time, there were two little brothers. Their names were Aziz and Saud. One day Saud was playing with a ball . . .” He loves to listen to stories where he is a participant. He quieted down. I rocked him gently, humming a tune softly and soon he was in dreamland . . .
In the dark, I kissed him, continuing to rock him, and softly humming a tune. I loved cuddling him. Soon, I laid him down in his bed . . . It was a rich, peaceful, and quiet time.
Aziz was watching cartoons in the TV room and I sat down with him, reading one of my books. Occasionally, Aziz would chuckle or get excited and narrate to me what was happening to a cartoon character. He was watching a Madagascar cartoon, which I also found humorous.
Aziz’ bedtime is 8:00 PM and I prepared him mentally by announcing that in “10 minutes, it will be bedtime” and he nodded and when the hour came, he gladly surrendered to the bedtime ritual. We went to his bed and by his pillow were his favorite bedtime stories. He kind of likes The Shapeys, an educational series for children. He likes to have a book all by himself and “read” it aloud. He can’t read yet but he narrates the story by looking at the pictures. He usually likes me to have another book to read. So, he “reads” aloud and I read from my book simultaneously with him so that we sounded as though we were doing a medley. After reading, we turned the bedside lamp off. The room was not dark because of a night light. Aziz does not want the room dark when he goes to sleep, unlike Saud. And then it was time to stop reading and just be quiet; no talking. After a while Aziz was also asleep . . . and the room became very, very quiet but filled with love.
Children’s bedtime can be either stressful or pleasurable, depending on the adult. This time – the hour of going to sleep – is a very special time. I cherish always the time I spend with my grandchildren. When I put them to sleep, I am happy and sad and I would remember countless bedtime moments when I used to put my children to sleep, when they were small.
Whether you live in Qatar, America, or Africa, it is important for children to feel that they could trust the world and bedtime provides such an opportunity.
Bedtime is truly a magical hour for parents and children – and for me.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.(Wednesday, January 12, 2011)
My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.c...
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com.
