I've been neglecting this blog lately. I used to be more of an avid blog keeper before, back when I was blogging incognito. But Kuwait is small, and now everyone knows everyone in blogger. To top it all, many of my readers are students of mine. So social decorum had to be kept if only for that purpose :)
But enough of that. Kaify. It's my blog. I can write whatever I want here. Personal and disgruntled writing is part of the reason I started a blog anyway. So to my dear readers, I implore you, what you read here is personal. I am indeed 'airing my laundry' here. And though you are privy to my blog airing of that laundry, don't be complete asses and take it out of blogger. And to my dear friends and family (and students?), if I lash out on you here, you are only allowed to lash back here. Schizophrenics have always fascinated me. And in light of that, I am inventing for myself a schizo personality here on blogger, separate from my real identity. Don't mix up the two.
Now that the lengthy intro has been dealt with (shda3wa kil hatha. Just get to the point already), we move to the topic of this post: forgiveness (quite a Ramadaani topic, won't you agree?)
Now watch this for a break (and animated rendition of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado":
I'm always haunted by my inability to forget injury. And it haunts me most when I find it in others. I can't accept it then.
يعني حلال علي وحرام على غيري؟
What if someone told you they forgive and forget (your injury to them), do you believe them? If I hold a grudge, why would I not expect it from others? If I hold a grudge, how can I understand other people's ability to let go?
كل يرى الناس بعين طبعه
And 6ab3ee is that I can't forget, even if I act as though I've forgiven.
I won't go as far as Montresor and burry my Fortunato alive in my wine-seller (come to think of it, I don't have a wine-celler. Will have to settle for a basement that is no basement at all), but I am known - if only to myself, a few friends, and the blog community :) - to hold grudges. I'm not totally proud it it. But it's human nature; my human nature. As such, I am not ashamed of it either. Of course this is blurred by my 'other' human nature: keeping pretenses. So if you ever cross my path, I'd be as good as Montresor in acting civil with you (but only to lure you into my cellar and bury you alive maybe?).
How's Ramadan treating you? Giving rise to any of your demons? Amazing what repression can do.