I’ve always tried to point out that one particularity that attracts me to people. I’ve tried putting down lists of the things I liked most in my preferred members of the family, closest friends, boyfriends, colleagues. But the task proved impossible. Nothing seemed to link them. Their age varies between 20 and 95. The colour of their hair ranges from charcoal to white. The sound of their voice from weak to powerful. Some of them I met in my hometown, Beirut. Others during my voyages, in Paris, in London, in Sri Lanka, in New York. Some I met while sun bathing on a Lebanese beach. Others while studying Law in the city. Some have achieved a high level of education. Others only speak their mother tongue. Some are rich and (kind of) famous. Others enjoy a modest life and an intimate circle of friends. Some are men. Some are women. Some have married, had children, grand children. Some chose to live a free, careless, adventurous life. Some I loved from the first contact. Others grew on me with time. Some have helped me find my way. Others I tried to help in my own way. With some I discussed serious, deep, heavy matters. With others I have enjoyed that odd beer on a rainy terrace. Some I lost touch with. Some others I speak to every once in a while. Some I only saw once. I always think of those people. Those who are very special to my heart. Those who make life worth living. Those who manage to delete all its sorrow and pain. I’ve always tried to understand what it is about them that is so special. What is it about them that makes them so beautiful, regardless of age, height, weight?
I guess it is soul.