There was a time when everything I ever wanted was to be in Beirut, the beloved home, the enchantress of the Mediterranean, the city that – as the Lebanese Ministry of Tourism would once have it – “will never surrender.” But that changed, and well before the socioeconomic crisis turned our lives upside down, and the blast ensured that our lives would never and could never be the same again. The moment had come for a serious recalibration of my relationship with the city. The invitation to be a contributor to German literary magazine Die Horen’s special issue on Beirut gave me the first chance to do so, at least on paper.
Continue reading ““Hope is a Dangerous Thing””One Month Since the Beirut Blast: “The Wound Will Always Stay Open”
It’s been one endless, torturous month already. One month since what were childhood nightmares of war exploded when we thought we were living in peace. One month since our lives came shattering down into unrecoverable pieces in front of our eyes, just like the glass that remains in every street and corner of this broken city. One month since we thought that life could not get any more despondent, but to our own despair, it did. One month since the Beirut Port blast, since all the paths we ever walked in the city were drawn in blood, since its sound continues to reverberate, viciously intertwined with ambulance sirens, cries of fear and pain, since the night’s mortal silence became a sound only few were brave enough to listen to. One long month and it feels like the wound will always stay open.
Continue reading “One Month Since the Beirut Blast: “The Wound Will Always Stay Open””
Eye on the East 