Mo

“To speak and to be understood is a freedom. It is perhaps the most fundamental freedom. To summon words intentionally, and have another person understand your meaning and connect with it, is to be unbound.

Conversely, without it, a part of you is caged. You feel betrayed by a spotty brain-tongue connection. And you notice when others don't catch your full drift. Maybe it's the context of what you mean; maybe it's the inflection in your voice; maybe it's undercutting yourself by putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable.

This trapped feeling is far more acute when you move in a language that isn't your own. There are intricacies andsubtleties that matter a great deal to communicating. Without them, your meaning is stuck in your throat. This is how I felt after arriving in Canada, where I had to translate simple thoughts into English, with all the added social cues, before I could get them past my lips.

This translation work is labour. It's time and effort spent trying to wrangle unruly words that won't fit in your mouth. God, have you tried to say "parallelogram"? Have you tried to differentiate it from a rhombus? When will I ever need to say "parallelogram?" Anyway: it's mental gymnastics, and the only reward is blank looks on the faces of people who can tell you're trying to say something but hear another. Maybe I messed up the syntax? Maybe my pronunciation was off and now I have to spend twenty minutes convincing you I'm not stupid? Damn, I can't believe some people can just speak and be understood. The luxury!”
― Elamin Abdelmahmoud, Son of Elsewhere: A Memoir in Pieces

“It is a profound, transformative gift to have someone see you as you’d like to be seen, even if you don’t see yourself that way.”
― Elamin Abdelmahmoud, Son of Elsewhere: A Memoir in Pieces

“العظماء يستثنون من الواجبات البديهية”
― Patrick White, فوس

“تعرفون، بلا شك، أن الحب الأكبر ليس ذلك الذي تعبر عنه الكلمات الحلوة بنقاء ولا ذلك الذي تعرب عنه النظرة ولا ذلك الذي تقوله يد محتكة بنعومة بيد أخري. بل هو ذاك الذي عندما يلتقي كائنان بدون أن يتبادلا النظر ولا اللمس يلفهما، كما لو في غيمة، ذلك الحب لايمكن التعبير عنه، ولا اظهاره. لايمكن الكلام عنه.”
― فرناندو بيسوا, يوميات