The Folly of Youth

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Whilst at the Market earlier this month,walking amidst the sea of black robes for women, of different shapes and sizes, designs and patterns, meant to represent the traditional garb of the Arab Woman, something strange happened.

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All of the sudden, my breath caught up in my lungs, and my eyes unfocused, gazing off into the distance, at something and nothing in particular, as I was transported back to a time of youthful indiscretion.

How often as a child when accompanying my parents to the Market I would break off from them to explore this strange world of cloth and color. Given my size and height at the time it was very easy to run in between the rows of clothes, much to the chagrin of the shop keeper who seemed to take offence to this innocent exploration. It felt like walking into the wardrobe, half expecting to land into some distant fairy tale land on the other side.

Every shop posed a new world to explore, an adventure to be had. Clothes Hangers were carried as weapons, and any hidden nook or cranny was sought as a possible location for a hidden treasure. Useless objects were picked up off the floor and used to fuel the imagination, little bits of plastic that are of no monetary value or of further use to anyone were prized in the eyes of a child.

If only it were possible to continue viewing the world through such innocent eyes, instead of accepting the harsh reality that there is no magic in the world, there is no Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy, no Unicorns of any other creatures of Myth and Magic.

It is our pursuit for knowledge and understanding that causes the fabric of belief to crumble.

For example, as a child, I remember my family driving out of Kuwait during the Gulf War. We passed through several tunnels at the time, it was my first experience with them, really long ones, and they seemed to lead to new countries. Hence I was under the impression as a child that every time we passed through a tunnel (i.e. walls on the sides with lights at the top) that we were travelling to other countries. I kept that belief even when driving in Kuwait itself after the war.

To be young is a beautiful thing, to be young at heart is a true blessing.

August 2011 ( View complete archive page )

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