Talk on Writing and Literature

I recently gave a talk at the Gulf University for Science and Technology (GUST). The talk was mainly aimed at fostering a love for writing and literature. I spoke about my personal experience with writing poetry, and I interviewed an old colleague and friend of mine, Dhari Buyabes. Dhari has written a novel, and we discussed the significance of writing in English, and how we both dealt with the experience of writing in English as non-native speakers.

The audience was very receptive and I really enjoyed the conversation with the students. I was very happy to see that many Kuwaitis are interested in writing in English, not just Arabic, and that it is no longer viewed as a betrayal of the mother tongue. We also spoke about the healing power of literature and writing, and how writing can be very therapeutic. I love talks like this, talks that aim to inform, educate, and also simply allow us to connect to one another.

As always, I am blessed to be an academic!

   
 

Hikma Talk

This October, for the first time ever, I gave a talk that was both personal and academic. I was asked to speak at an event in Kuwait, by a group called Hikma. Hikma talks are a bit similar to TED talks, and they are meant to be informative, personal, and raise important social issues. I was initially supposed to be discussing Shakespeare and how I teach his work in Kuwait. But, because I was recovering from an MS relapse, and I was using a cane, I had to tell the Hikma group a bit about my personal background, and why I was using the cane. Before I knew it, they asked me whether I would tell this story to the audience. I was very hesitant, and I was not sure if I wanted to tell strangers all about me. I didn’t want to sound like I was inspiring, motivational, or even successful. I didn’t want the talk to be all about “me, me, me.” So I hesitated. And I thought about it for days. I wondered if I had anything to say, and whether people actually cared to hear it. I decided to approach the topic both personally and academically, explaining my journey through academia and with Multiple Sclerosis.

I gave the talk, starting with “I am not here to inspire or motivate you.” I really didn’t want people to think this was a success story or a sob story. So I talked about how we all have choices in life, and I linked that to the study of literature and the humanities. We all have a choice, to be either a hero, villain or a victim. We make choices every day. I choose to be where I am today. I choose to get out of bed every morning. Bad circumstances happen. Life is random and there is no equation you can follow. There are no guarantees. Those who look for logic in a life that does not offer any answers still don’t have it figured out. There is no answer, and there is no one way of living, or one truth. We find this both in literary works and in life. The humanities and literature saved my life, and that is what I said during my talk. I wasn’t exaggerating. Literature gave me purpose and meaning. I was able to learn how to accept imperfections, flaws, and make sense of a world that was chaotic. I learned how to deal with myself, my body, my identity, and others. Any other. Any other that was “different” by society’s standards. In literature, “others” usually find a home. Literature gave me a psychological home, and through it, I was slowly able to accept loss, pain, chaos, and also attempt to help others find the same comfort. I spoke about my experience teaching literature to undergraduates, and how we always have lively discussions in class. Literature connects us across boundaries, borders, and time. We learn to speak without shame, and there is always an open dialogue.

The event was successful, and I was approached by many lovely people. Everyone thanked me for speaking so openly. One woman said she could relate, because she suffers from mental health issues. Another said that her sister also suffered from a disability and was ashamed of her body. I met so many wonderful people that night. And I felt as though I had finally managed to stand up in front of a huge audience and speak about what matters the most to me. I didn’t think I could do it. I was a nervous wreck before the talk, and I felt as though I wasn’t ready. But the truth is, as with everything great, sometimes you’ll feel like you can never be ready. And maybe it just takes that jump. You just jump. I had to. And as always, no regrets, no regrets.

The talk will be available on YouTube with Arabic subtitles. For now, this is a tiny clip of it and some photos. 
  

 

An Open Letter

I am not writing this to elicit your sympathy. This is not a cry for help. I am not interested in moving you. But, this is an open letter, to the world, to my family, my loved ones, and those I’m yet to meet.

I am a 28 year old who feels like a 60 year old. I look good, though, by society’s standards of “good looks” and a “healthy” appearance. I drive a Blue jeep, and you would never guess that there are days where I struggle with the steering wheel. I’m just about to get my PhD in English Literature, but I have spent years coping with chronic fatigue that has made my research nights incredibly difficult. There were nights when I typed up my thesis using one hand, one eye closed and the other half-peering at the screen. It took double the time and effort. Let’s just say, it was no easy road (but then again, a PhD journey hardly ever is).

But what bothers me? Is it the fact that I have Multiple Sclerosis, a progressive and degenerative disease that affects young adults? A random disease that has no scientifically proven cause? No, not really. MS is a hassle, but I have been living with it for twelve years. We’re pretty much acquainted now. What really annoys me, aggravates me, and leaves me wanting to constantly write about my experience with MS, is the lack of awareness and lack of understanding that I am faced with. People don’t get it. Not because they don’t want to, but because it’s difficult to believe someone with an ‘invisible’ illness. It’s difficult to imagine. And because you don’t see it, it’s hard to understand.

I am tired of people telling me to take vitamins to feel better. I am tired of people telling me to avoid stress and “stay positive.” How do you actually avoid stress? Stress is amongst us. Stress is just a part of life. You can’t help it, no matter how aloof, and even numb you are. We all interact with others, and just that simple interaction can raise ‘stressful’ situations. Should I curl up in bed and hide? I refuse. It’s just not me. I want to live. I want to experience it all. The good, the bad, the stress, and the peace.

People tell me I should try this diet, or go to the gym, or try this herbal potion, or this magic recipe that is bound to cure me. Now, I haven’t actually asked for advice from the general public. I would think that my doctor would know better, so I usually turn to him. But my inability to keep up with people my age, my constant fatigue is sometimes (not always, to be fair), considered ‘boring’, ‘old’ and ‘lazy.’ The fatigue that MS patients suffer from is not your everyday fatigue. It is not how you feel after a sleepless night, or after a long flight from the States to Kuwait, or during the flu, or even from a major hangover. Maybe, it’s all of the above combined, along with a heavy, strained body. And it happens every single day, for no reason at all. It happens randomly, it happens at work, while you’re driving, while you’re out for lunch with a friend, or after you’ve just woken up. No amount of sleep or rest can relieve the fatigue. It’s just there, it’s a part of you – your shadow.

And here’s the thing. I don’t want to be lazy. I don’t want to be old, or boring, or miss out on that gathering, or that party, or be unable to stay awake. But it so happens that sometimes, I am that person. And not by choice. But I have learned to deal with it. I know that sometimes MS fatigue gives me slurred speech. I know that sometimes, I may appear drunk (when I really am far from it). And I just wish people would understand that there is nothing that I can do about it, and that they can’t either. There is no cure. There is nothing I can do in terms of my “lifestyle.” Except, ask for your understanding, and not your advice or sympathy, although I know that it is done out of good intentions. We hate watching those we love suffer. It’s not exactly easy, I know. But sometimes, just listening, just smiling, just saying that you “understand” is more than good enough. It’s genuine and I truly do appreciate it.

A dear friend, also a writer, has urged me to write. It is perhaps the best advice anyone could give me at this stage. And it looks like I’ll keep writing about my experience with MS. Writing eases the pain. It voices what I cannot say out loud. It urges me to share my vulnerabilities and my strengths without the fear of rejection. It’s up to you to choose to read and what you choose to do with the information I hope to provide. This is a lens into my world – and perhaps the world of many others who suffer from invisible illnesses, disabilities, or just pain, be it mental, emotional, or physical.