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I almost became a criminal!!
Ahmed Seif Hashed
In the first stage of my life, I was sensitive like a highly sensitive measuring device.. introverted, shy and transparent.. sensitive and emotionally charged.. rebellious to the point where I rebelled against my father.. emotional to the point where I think of salvation from life.. sometimes wretched to the point of madness. A struggle in which good over evil, life over death, and man over everything else.
Perhaps one day a corrupt idea crossed my mind, but soon its contradiction within me would resist it.. Maybe one day I wanted to have a cane to take it from those without me as the professor used to do with his students, then I remember what I went through, so I expel her and do not allow her to come back to me..
In my childhood, I attacked the homes of wasps, and they were just chasing me, and their stings got from me, and my face was swollen from their stings, and my neck and limbs thickened, and their poison ran through my skinny body, and some of them needed days to recover and heal from their tumor, and the fever that I had because of their stings..
I was the aggressor at that time, and she was defending her right to life.. her right to live and she found herself in a forced life.. I did not understand this situation at the time.. and when I grew up, I found that life does not appeal to me, and its evils hurt me.. I search for justice and goodness. The pure, a world that has not yet come and may not come forever..
***
Among the most important books that played a role in the formulation of my later awareness and thinking, the book Criticism of Religious Thought by Sadiq Jalal Al-Azm, a book from the history of political torture in Islam, the book of political assassination in Islam by Hadi Al-Alawi, materialistic tendencies in Arab Islamic philosophy by Hussein Marwa, and the hidden truth of Faraj Fouda. And some books of Salama Musa, and the novel of the village of al-Batool by Muhammad Haniber and others.
I dreamed of being a martyr.. I was affected by the story of Sanaa Muhaidli’s martyrdom.. I grew up and did not forget her story, and I named my first daughter Sana after and admiration for this Lebanese girl who carried out a suicide attack against a convoy of the Zionist occupation vehicles in southern Lebanon..
I admired and read about the Cuban Revolution, and about the revolutionary Guevara at an early stage in my life.. I named my son Fidel before his name became Fadi, in gratitude to Fidel Castro and Cuba to the fortress of steadfastness, and the voice that sided with Arab issues in international forums during the “America” war on Iraq..
I belonged to the left, and named my second son Yasar before his name became valid..At one stage of my life I became biased towards the poor and the left in economics, and perhaps at another stage I became disillusioned with liberalism with regard to freedom of thought, but later I found all liberalism may not accommodate an idea or a book.
Today, I claim that I have become an opinion, and I belong to man first, and I tend to be independent a lot, and I refuse to be one in a herd.. I do not like the restrictions that want me to live in their holes, or their dull past.. I resist injustice, oppression and tyranny under any title that comes to it, or By any name..I am loving freedom to the fullest extent..
***
Being in a stage of your childhood or all of it sensitive and tender does not mean that you did not commit foolishness, emotions and abnormal actions at some stage, some of which may reach the point of crime or almost.. Various factors may push you at a critical moment to lose your mind, and not to appreciate the results of your actions And maybe you and the victim together are victims of your reality..
Being a very emotional child does not mean that you will be a perfectly normal event, and that your teenage life will be free of sharp bumps sometimes, and that it will not deviate from the right path, perhaps in a crude way.. a life that will be surrounded by a lot of rebellion, and perhaps naughty and cruelty also in some way. In a society that practices cruelty as a virtue..
I lived the cruelty of life in a more severe reality, and perhaps I found myself in some moments, even if it was fleeting, imprinted with a sharp emotion, and I committed or almost committed something that is outside my context and contradicts my nature and instinct, but soon followed by regret, or guilt, and wishing that I had not done what I did..
My life is in a part of my childhood and adolescence, in which my relationship with my father may have been harsh in some of them, but I can say that in the last ten years of my father’s life before his death, who died probably in the last quarter of the end of 1997, it was fine and fine.. Love, friendship and feeling Dense each other.
My father died while he was very satisfied with me, and I was satisfied with him to that extent and more.. He relinquished his cruelty and his patriarchal authority, and I gave up my rebellions against him.. A lot of love, respect and appreciation prevailed between us.. I reconciled with my father to a large extent, and I did not I reconcile with the tyrannical authorities to this day, and I am about to enter the door of my sixty years of rejecting tyranny under any title.
My rebellion against the unjust political authority has continued to this day with all its false names and masks.. I live with tireless stubbornness.. my life is rejection, compulsion and continuous resistance with it, perhaps because the tyrannical authority, in any dress other than my father, refuses to give up its authority to the people, and seeks with its hard, toil and violence to subjugate them She owns them, owns their present and their future as well.
I can only say thank you, my father. I had a school where I learned and was able to resist the authority that seeks to impose its power, authority and visions on people, and it wants to own them, and own their present and future forever.
In the same place, I claim that life, tragedies, many scenes, and reading about what is human have taught me as a whole to reject the practice of oppression and oppression of people, and to avoid recklessness and sharp emotions that lead me to regret and guilt.. I make sure that my conscience is my guide and watchdog, against injustice under any name..
I find myself against violations of human rights and freedoms, whatever the allegations of the violating authority.. against injustice and tyranny in all its forms, the first of which is the one who wears the garb of religion and whose oppression and tyranny wear the guise of the sacred.. is biased towards the causes of the poor to whom I find myself affiliated, but without affecting the place and position of man. And his dignity.. I studied law and the judiciary and defended the rights and freedoms of people.. I adore freedoms and dream that their ceiling would be the sky, and even more than that if it was possible..
***
I know that the criminal was not created as a criminal, or was born with a desire for crime, but there are various factors, and multiplying and stressful circumstances converging, and slippery paths that overcome the prohibitions..
Between normality and criminality, which I mean is a fine line in a moment of narrowness and blindness that we do not see, so we slip into what is not good, even if regret overtakes any of us; Fate answered him: I unleashed madness; So she slipped into a slippery slope, and fell into a grave predicament, and “there is no hour of regret”… Here the power of punishment is necessary without excessive, politicizing or violating justice..
Perhaps the dewy breezes in the mourning stove become a mass of flame.. Perhaps tender and sensitive feelings will become a criminal who threatens those around him with danger, and whoever was sensitive and emotionally charged, he may be invaded by a pollution in his mind, or a fit of madness.. Perhaps he who used to care for ants, feed them and be kind to them And whoever used to release mice from the trap, sympathize with them and understand their need for life, becomes for once, his father’s killer.
Perhaps someone who was destined to be a high-level judge, lawyer or jurist in the future of his life, becomes a man with a fall in the night, or a slip during the day, that kills a person..
***
I am a human being, and I was almost overcome by evil one day.. I almost became a victim of my circumstances, my first indiscretion, my haste and foolishness, and perhaps also my hateful selfishness, and my stray emotions that got out of my control and forced the precautions.. I almost became a criminal who killed his father, and at the same time a victim of this reality. The condemned and the unknown..
I still remember when I went looking for fire water in the herd of Aden, to buy it with a little money I needed for my other needs.. but the seller told me that day that he only sells fire water with a license..
I went looking for another way, and I was assassinated and revolted.. I suppressed my big anger, and turned my heat inside me for a while.. I bought a knife and folded it with a white paper, and put it under the belt.. I hid it with my shirt and aprons.. I went looking for it in the mosques that I usually go to, but I I did not find him, as if “Al-Hafiz” at that time protected him or sided with him..or I was protected by an angel, luck or the kindness of fate..
I searched for him in all the places he frequents, and I am supposed to find him, but on that day I did not find a trace of him or a glimpse of an eye, as if luck or the kindness of fate was intended and deliberate to protect me from myself and save him..
I was looking for him, imagining what I would do.. My right hand was stimulating like a hawk waiting to pounce.. My hand was jumping out of me in the air to do what I imagined and whimpered.. I was walking nervously, similar to that madman called “Al-Awlakiyah” that was named after him, and his fame overcame his name that had vanished. In the orbits of loss..
He was nervously shooting his hand into the air, as if he meant to dig his hand into the stomach of the one who saw him in front of him, and we did not see him and wonder.. It was like a knot breathing from its deep and buried dungeon..
When the blood calmed down in my burning veins, and the lava and fires that were sweeping me and eating me and burning in my angry interior subsided, I felt great remorse. Because he let me down in a fit of recklessness and madness.. I was under 18 at the time..
Today, my imagination is recovering a memory buried by time and casting its shadows on it, I imagine that terrifying and frightening situation, and I see myself that I almost resemble those criminals who fell into what is forbidden and heavy, in a moment of weakness and selfishness, or the recklessness of anger, or provocative frivolity.. I remember the folly that One day she would take me with her to prison, and a disgrace would follow me without ending, and then I would spend the rest of my life regretting, sad and heartbroken.
And between today and the distant yesterday, everything was different.. I began to see extending the hand as a rude backwardness, and slander of the tongue as something unbecoming of a human being..
***
Continued..
Some details of my life..
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