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A letter: Interfaith marriage and crime

Where do I get my inspiration? Different places and times: Sometimes it's from personal experiences and events, sometimes it's from stories I hear or read, with a bit of pepper and salt. Sometimes it comes from nature, dreams, and news reports. Sometimes inspiration just comes, from a place unknown to me. Usually, it's a combination of all those things. Below is a paragraph from my latest performance, "In the Lost and Found", followed by the letter that inspired it. (I apologize for taking so long to publish it Leila .) The letter is set against the reality that in Jordan, as in several Arab countries, a woman cannot transfer her citizenship to her husband (while the man of course can). "They tell me I will lose my inheritance if I marry a non Muslim. He has to convert, otherwise the marriage is false, the kids are bastards, and the wife is an apostate, her "blood is permitted" - with no punishment to the killer. I am obliged to give my husban...
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Challenging Tradition in a Traditional Society #1

There are some traditions that are worth upholding, but many have collected thick layers of dust so opaque that we can no longer see what was once beneath them. We mistake the dust for the essence, incessantly complaining about a'raf and wajibat, the rights and wrongs of our forefathers...but we play along to avoid ridicule and choose the chains of cowardice, prejudice, and misconception. Ignorance. I am not saying that all traditions are outdated and useless-far from it, in our Arab culture are jewels and treasures, and I am the first to call for preserving them. But let us stop for a moment and consider what we are heeding, rather than following blindly like grazing sheep. Sheep and goats: I am reminded of kindergarden and a song we learnt in school. The teacher would walk around the classroom singing: Ya Ganamati . And we'd respond: Ma Ma . ...Ghannou waraya : Ma Ma ..and so on and so forth. Very endearing, but also very telling. We grow up, Ma Ma-ing until we reach the gra...
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The sky is purple

Man has always aimed to the sky KItes Planes Rockets And we dig into the ground with a shovel But rock stops us midway or less than mid way We stop sometimes we find a spring or well If we're cursed, we find oil Into the sky What flies is an extension of me There's a thread between us Translucent but sturdy like that of a web The spider crawls from beneath the carpet I squash it -just kidding, it's alive. Ode to the internet So what if it's a window into secrets A spying eye into the files of any self So what.... The way it makes me spy with my little eye something that begins with -You name it, and there it is. Life in 3D ... and the fourth? Five people and two dogs Cirque du soleil on the PC screen, on TV is National Geographic -Abu Dhabi edition On one, a women in red hanging from the sky The other, Omani men dancing with swords Repeat Life goes in a loop But we don't have to We can skip, from one hill to the next in a green car L;-
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