Dreams of Our Lebanon

THE DREAMS OF OUR LEBANON

"Everyone is leaving ... and I do not want to be left alone..." uttered Fouad to himself as he cemented the thought of emigration in his mind. He looks once more at his mother country. As the horizon washes over his eyes, his spirit is worn out by the worn out cities, the crashing markets, rising fumes, and leaking eyes.

Fouad had ambitious dreams he wanted to morph into a new reality. He had the seeds to wild visions in his burning heart and he knew they could not survive in Lebanon's soil. He was willing to leave his motherland behind for his own aspirations. He was willing to abandon the motherland that held him in its arms his whole life in order to achieve his goals abroad. It pierced his soul to take this decision, but he knew it was for his own good.

With a few rips of a heart and tears of an eye, Fouad chains Lebanon to his past and moves past it. He was determined to carve its name on the walls of his memories. Fouad was willing to begin a new future that did not know the name of the land that held the weight of his body his whole life. He was racing to discover new worlds. And by doing so he was rewriting his culture and traditions. Lebanon sat in the corner of his mind until it began fading away.

With every new undiscovered territory
Lebanon fades away in the memory
Unfamiliar faces with foreign tongues
Drown out an alphabet once sung

Melodies that once traced a lifeline
Are replaced with a foreign bassline
Once culinary handprints of a mother
Are now behind fast food frontrunners

As every calendar sheds its skins, as every grain of sand plummeted down the hourglass, Lebanon loses another man to the world of the abroad. The surface of Lebanon loses the weight of its people that the deep heart within regains. Lebanon's silhouette is left intact, untouched by any appreciative eyes. As the eyes of the Lebanese emigrants wrap themselves in tears, Lebanon is forsaken gathering dust on a shelf.

Rolling bags
Taxi cabs
Fouad prepares a departure from a now familiar society

Crowded lines
Upcoming flights
Fouad makes his way onto the aerial ride with anxiety

It's been years since Fouad has even set foot on a plane. He has been content with his new home. His desires and dreams perfectly synced with the lifestyle of his chosen homeland. However, governmental paperwork and responsibilities of that sort were the final thread bonding Fouad to his forgotten Lebanese home. Fouad's expired attachment to Lebanon was not the one piloting the plane this time around. He was planning on completing his tasks in Lebanon and returning to his land of abroad as soon as possible.

Fouad blessed Lebanon with the weight of his body for a few days. The last time he did so, his silver hair was still of a charcoal tint, his wrinkled skin was a fresh blank page empty of any tattoos, and his heart was still longing to bathe in the landscape of Lebanon. During his momentary visit, Fouad experienced the sunlight of Lebanese sky and the moonlight of a Lebanese night sky. It tickled his childhood memories, but it wasn't enough to spark up the desire to settle back.

Before Fouad could gather his bags and thoughts and leave Lebanon again, destiny knocked on his door.

However fate will collapse upon us
And our destined death precedes us
Fouad's lifeline reached a dead end
Right after sighing his final breath

Fouad's corpse was buried in the soil of his hometown. With an open wound from Lebanon, Fouad's body was sunk into Lebanon's. Fouad merged with Lebanon. For the first time, his spirit was now intertwined with the land and its nature: he became one with the land. Fouad was now a piece of Lebanon's perfect mosaic. Fouad was now a brushstroke on Lebanon's perfect canvas. Fouad was now a chord floating within Lebanon's perfect symphony.

At his fingerprints, Fouad could feel what Lebanon sensed.

Fouad could feel Lebanon.

Fouad could feel the frigid wind rising in Baalbek as it whistles through the ancient columns like they are a set of gapped teeth. Fouad could feel the waterfall plummet in Jezzine like it were a fair lady's perfect silky hair flowing with the breeze. Fouad could feel the ghostly fog swim through the Qadisha valley as it carried the holy haze on its bare back. Fouad could feel the soaring mounts of Faraya gripping onto the blankets of snow as they battle the forthcoming warm air. Fouad could feel the oceanic waves of Tyre melodically crash at the shore as they paint the sands like a Daoud Corm painting. Fouad could feel the majestic skyscrapers of Beirut reaching for the stars that taught them the importance of glowing in the darkest times. Fouad could feel the ruins of Sidon as they meditate and disconnect themselves from the ever-present rush of time. Fouad could feel the wind choreograph the rhythmic dances of the grandiose cedars in the heart of Barouk. Fouad could feel the Akoura lakes reflect the splendor of the heavens on its shimmering face.

He absorbed the beauty of Lebanon with every sight, sound and smell. He could see and feel Lebanon like it were a portrait shimmering in an elegant robe of artistry. He could see God's golden fingerprints on every inch of Lebanon's silhouette. He could feel its art in its senses, a golden beauty that transcended space and time.

Fouad could feel a rush of joy in every thread of his soul.

He never opened his eyes on this side of reality. It was a bit too late, but Fouad was finally celebrating the realization that Lebanon is a one of a kind paradise. He finally remembered what it's like to be at home. Only when he returned did he realize that he had always been lost. He had been trying to force himself in a mold that rejected him. Fouad finally felt like he was fitting in the right puzzle.

However, soon enough, the rush of joy turned sour...

A tank of a pain weighed him down
His joyous smile morphed into a frown
Suddenly, the blues of an ancient scar
Resurface as they rip the skin apart

Fouad could feel sorrow, but it was not his.

It was Lebanon's.

"Why is everyone deserting me? Why? I thought I was giving them everything. If I sacrificed more, would they stay? At the end of the day I'm nothing without them. As I lose the weight of a man on my corpse, a new weight plagues my aching heart. My lifeline is on a slow spiral to demise with every soul I lose to the world outside. As they all build distance between me and them, a part of me degrades into nothingness. And with every degenerating part of me that fades, my eyes leak acid on my body. Pollution preys me down. Disasters grip on me tight. I cannot preserve my ideal profile if the acid tears I shed shred my skin. I don't desire anything... I just need them to stay.

My dream is to have them in my arms and give them everything. But why should I bother piercing parts of myself and serving them on silver platters if my customers have left? While they grip onto their map and hunt down their picture perfect paradise, I look in the dirt for a form of life to give mine to. I'll leave it up to you to determine how deep my ache should be to have them as my dream, when I will never be theirs."

Fouad feels his soul move with a wave of emotions. He feels ache within him. He feels guilt within him. His leaving caused a hurt in Lebanon. He traced a scar on Lebanon's clear skin because of barb wired selfish desires and dreams.

Lebanon utters one last time, "Everyone is leaving...and I do not want to be left alone..."