Life is a drama, and drama is a drama within this drama, and most of it talks about this drama that emerges from it, and the process of acting is the enemy of this drama. The more we are honest in presenting this drama, and the more we are spontaneous, the more we seem real, and the exact opposite is true. When you look like you are acting, you will be closer to failure, and farther away from the audience’s love. Even a clown must clown with sincerity and spontaneity that makes him appear real. Our example is Charlie Chaplin, who used clown tools in all his roles that people know, and the audience interacted with the humanitarian issues that he raised and sympathized with them. .
We all know that what is presented on the screen are nothing but events that have no basis, so we think, but why do we follow them if we believe that? We follow it because we are in fact the heroes of this drama: its author, director, actor, and the rest of its makers speak in our name, act for us, and represent us at the same time, and when we follow them we are watching ourselves, or details from it.
This collection presents a group of stories that attempt to approach the worlds of drama in one way or another, in writing and acting.
Love is the most dangerous and mysterious emotion. The most dangerous of these is because the lover often loses the ability to appreciate reality. Nothing makes him ready for death as love does. How many men lost their lives to reach their loved ones, and how many women defied their societies and were killed for a moment of connection with their beloved. History and literature tell us about many love stories that ended in death or madness. Because love is a powerful emotion that pushes the sails of the heart into the gates of an adventure with choppy waves. It does not value any danger, and it never accepts submission to mental trials.
As for the ambiguity of this emotion, it comes from ignorance of its causes. Most of the time, we do not fully know what we love about the person we love, and we often discover in him the opposite of what we thought when we loved him. Love - despite its arrogance - remains the most fragile of emotions, and often dissipates when it comes into contact with reality. Just as it blows like a storm, it can suddenly calm down, leaving... The air behind him was filled with dust.
Despite everything, love remains the most beautiful feelings that a person can possess, and the moments of connection that often precede a tragic end for lovers may be the happiest moments they live.
Some of them call it (the service of knowledge), and some of them call it (the compulsory service), but the truest name for it is the name given to it by the public: (compulsory). Compulsory, no matter how much they cover it with national cellophane, will remain one of the heaviest experiences that a person goes through. He will live a long time and die, and the heavy feeling that there is a gun on his shoulder will never disappear.
With every meter that Rudy passed, his resistance to the influence of the fortune teller’s words became more intense, but at the same time, the fortune teller’s words became more deeply rooted in his soul and mind. Although he did not admit it, the fortune teller's words had completely controlled him. “Indeed, what knowledge do we, the inhabitants of this vile grain of dust called the Earth, claim to say, ‘This is possible and this is not possible?’ If we were merely irrational beings, we would say that we were created as a result of certain interactions between different chemical elements, such as mushrooms, algae, and others. But where does the soul come from and where does it go?” Do you go? And the mind and feelings? It is impossible for a bone or muscle in my body to feel love or hatred or to think and make a decision. All of this is carried by an energy that resides in my body, an energy that is stronger and bigger than me. It does not even reveal to me who it is or what it is made of I am just a dead battery for this energy, what a worthless piece of junk I am, but why should I accept that the fortune teller’s words are true? He, too, is just a piece of junk like me! These thoughts were fighting inside Rudy, and he did not know which idea was victorious over the other
The life of an expatriate is a journey of pain and happiness, loss and discovery, success and disappointment. It is a painting in which contrasting colors, very dark and very bright, clash. The life of an expatriate is a journey whose end, according to plan, is a return to the mother’s embrace, the mother who carried him and watched over him as a child, and the homeland mother that contains all his previous memories, but it often ends with the end of the expatriate before the end of the journey or with the end of the mother. This book presents stories of the life of an expatriate that are almost identical to reality, and carry within them all those emotions that we mentioned at the beginning, and it has a tendency toward presenting the condition of the expatriate without adding the usual touch of romanticism, as it is, and without exaggeration or frills.
The subconscious is a world full of life, which has no rules or pre-determined form. It is a life like a crashing wave, in which stories occur that only their owners know, and which rarely reach paper. Wading in this sea is a very complicated matter, but it is a very enjoyable matter, and the more you know, the darker it becomes, because ideas throw their impurities into it, forming in this way their opposites that disturb us whenever we sail in them.
The village has always been a symbol of simplicity in its system of life and in the psychological makeup of the villagers, who rarely suffer from what is called “phobia” or “mania,” and accept everything that happens to them as normal, no matter how harsh.
This was in those eras when crops fed those who worked the land and provided them with a surplus for sale that provided them with an important part of their living expenses. However, after agriculture became a loss-making business, and sometimes a heavy burden on the farmer that did not provide its owner with the minimum necessities of life, the village mixed with the city due to the migration caused by various crises, which generated sharp paradoxes that were nullified by that person who was imposed on him in the city a new way of life. At the same time, his customs, traditions, and connections to the village remained strong, which created a duality in him that made him a rich and diverse personality. This friction that occurred through migrations, as well as due to the great technological development that occurred, also transferred part of the city with its relationships and way of life to the village, which constituted a shock to a part of the villagers whose thinking remained based on the old pattern of rural relations.
All of this constituted, and continues to constitute, an important source of literature and drama. In this book there are a number of stories whose events take place in the village of Umm al-Tanafas, a name taken to be a symbol of the village in all works that touch upon the village. This will be the first village notebook and will be followed in the future by other notebooks, because the village’s stories are inexhaustible.
The period of writing these stories extended for many years, extending from 1987 with the story “The Smell” to 2013 with the story “May God prolong his life.” They were all written under the weight of heavy tyranny, which made our thinking almost paralyzed and made us free executioners and observers of ourselves. It is “natural” for most of them to be apologized for publishing, as happened with the story “The Smell” which was either apologized for publishing or was ignored by all the newspapers to which it was sent at that time, as well as It happened with several other stories.
All the stories are united by a single concern and a similar atmosphere. Their events take place in the imperial atmosphere, with the meaning of the emperor’s word. The reader does not need effort or help from anyone in deciphering it. They speak of a general concern that everyone feels the burden of, without exception. Some were vocal about it at the times when the stories were written. Some people kept it quiet, but despite the fact that the majority were forced to remain silent, and those who opened their mouths paid a heavy price for not remaining silent, for everyone it was a heavy burden that a person could not get used to, or at the very least hope that it would go away.
These stories were among the forms of expression of that general pain. Some of them were destined to come out to the screen - in some short periods of relief - to reach the audience, even in different formulations from the stories in the book, and some of them remained imprisoned until circumstances allowed them to appear on the pages of this book in your hands.
This collection presents views from different wars that the writer's generation either witnessed and was a victim of, or fought in. It extends from the June defeat, which was beautified by calling it “the setback,” through all the other wars that did not end with the last war taking place now. The stories presented in this collection present different humanitarian situations experienced by the person of war, in which Syria has become something of a practical laboratory for it due to the large extent to which its people have suffered from the scourges of war. It includes the suffering of a child of war who was uprooted from his home and his childhood playground to begin a departure that most likely will not end with a return. The child of war who was accustomed to it and lived with it later to become a victim of a different kind; When the fragments allocated for killing turn into monetary wealth created by his innocent mind, and then he becomes an element in this war, this time being a victim in the form of a fighter, circumstances force him to be placed between two options (either the killer or the killed). The stories of all the world will not be sufficient to express the horrors and suffering that man experiences in wars. These stories are a simple example of them in the form of samples from different stages. Unfortunately, it seems that this notebook will remain open indefinitely, and more tragic stories will join its pages, because the experience It has proven that the tragedy on our land takes escalating forms and generates pain that grows more every day. It seems from the scene in which the events take place that we will experience all forms of pain.
