Mood
Love is an undemocratic emotion.. Love is Hitler.. Nero.. Caligula.. He orders without trying to justify his orders or searching for a logic or a majority to support them.. He is a free tyrant.. A freedom that does not accept review. .. It is the ultimate freedom .. It is the freedom in which barriers fall .. and others disappear and nothing remains in it except me, me and my beloved .. and my soul .. me and I .. the pleasure that makes us dizzy while we love .. and the royal state and this is the secret of the kingdom in which we live while we love. If love were a subject of advice, counseling, and logic, it would have become an ordinary subject like agriculture, commerce, and engineering. We would draw our kisses on the lips as we draw bridges on paper. But the kiss is not a project. It is something like a disease. It is a fever that makes the head dizzy and loosens the nuts on the joints. And you cannot kiss your beloved while at the same time you are reading the newspapers and shaking your legs.. The kiss takes over you completely.. As for drawing a bridge on paper, it is a calm and cool project that you do, while you are smoking, whistling, and making jokes around you... in a poetic session. My friend told me his love story, and he explained to me his passions that lasted eight years and revolved around one woman. She is my love.. my life.. we are one person.. her faults have become like my faults. I embrace her and look for an excuse for her.. and my desires are expressed by her before I utter them.. that thing called.. shame.. and dignity.. and humiliation.. and pride has ended between us. I take off my clothes in her presence as if it were my own room. She takes off her clothes in front of me and utters phrases that she is ashamed to say to herself. She says them to me with the joy of a child who knows no shame. We no longer know what is wrong... because we have lost contact with people... and are content with ourselves. She is mine.. and I am hers.. I write for her.. I stay up for her.. and I drink for her.. I am he.. because there is a woman in the world whose name is such and such.. She made me the man you see before you.. and she spoke a lot of words with intensity and emotion. And he was drinking and getting drunk...and I wondered while thinking, was any of the reasons he mentioned...the reason that made him love her so much...I don't think...he loves her...because he loves her...simply like this...every one of these... The reasons could be a reason for aversion... or they could be a reason for love... and his mood is what made him a reason for love. If he had loved a shy woman, her shyness would have become a reason for his love, and if he had loved an arrogant woman, her pride would have become a reason for his worship. Love has no image by which it can be identified. It is a mirror of mood. Mood fluctuates with age. It has seasons, such as summer, winter, spring, and fall. And my friend is in the summer of his mood... and the woman he loves is a summer woman... and tomorrow in the spring of his mood he will love another woman... despite all this drunkenness and excitement... and she will be the opposite of the first in her qualities... and he will get drunk again in her health... if The good on the cheek that we think is what made us fall in love... others look at it with aversion and disgust and consider it a defect... The issue is a question of how... and how is what gives us the qualities that you like... and the state of how is a state without a constitution. Mood is the only forbidden area that does not involve rationality or logic. One of us does not convene a parliament with his family to decide whether he will drink tea or coffee. He does not provide justifications or provide reasons for choosing the navy blue suit or the gray suit. Rather, he usually suffices with that. He says.. I want that. So if they told him: Tea makes you constipated, coffee keeps you up, and the navy blue color is too dark for you in the summer, then he just says again: O brothers, my hobbies are like this, like this, how are you like this, and he is in He usually drinks tea and wears navy blue.. and walks according to his mood and does not care about anyone.. Why? ! .. People eat chili pepper .. and scream in pain .. Why .. Mood .. And the mood is freedom .. It is our only area of freedom in the midst of the electrified barbed wire erected around us Our poor souls are besieged by duties .. obligations .. family obligations .. School obligations, job obligations, social class obligations to which you belong, moral obligations, religion, friendship, and courtesy. In the midst of these chases in which others chase us, we search for a moment that is ours, in which we broadcast the contents of our hearts, the essence of our souls and our longings, and this moment is our mood. A cup of tea...and a cigarette...and a chili pod...and a bowl of pickles...and a chat with a soul we love in an hour of serenity - this is all that remains of the world...that is why we cling so closely to this hour and do not accept bargaining, logic, advice or advice, because this... The moments are our moments.. our mood.. our freedom.. it is like our mustache.. we do not accept anyone to bargain with us about his fate.. we shave it when we want to shave it.. and we raise it when we want to raise it.. the total amount the state spends to import pulp, peanuts, hazelnuts, pistachios, cigarettes and liquor. Movies, detective books, radios, televisions, CDs, recording tapes, newspapers, and perfumes... are more than you spend on producing iron and steel, and this is normal... because these things are not luxuries... but necessities... they are the mood... and the mood is the core of our personalities... In the past, pepper was more expensive than gold. When ships carried it from India and took it around Africa via the Cape of Good Hope. Pepper dirhams were serious gifts exchanged by kings. The reason was temperament. Pepper was temperament. Nothing equals temperament. Also, nothing equals freedom. We give everything we have for our mood, just as we give our lives for our freedom. A woman sacrifices her life waiting for a husband who matches her mood. If she does not find him, she may sacrifice her honor to get him a man, not a husband. It is the mood. Napoleon ruined the world. Because war was his mood. We all paid the price for this Napoleonic opium. He also paid a double price in the end... Mood is the weak point of all of us... because it is the loophole through which temptation enters and the mind does not guard it... and the mind is of no use... That is why the Qur’an forbids us from whims and moods. The woman who enters me through the gate of my mood kills me. She knocks me down. Oh God, protect me from the evil of the whims of my mood. As for the whims of my mind, I am responsible for them.
From a book on love and life by Mustafa Mahmoud
