Toubib Or Not To Be

  If you search online for «how to write?» you’ll get a lot of results ranging from using a pen and paper to rules of proper grammar, but no good advice about the creative part of writing, which is what most people struggle with. I admit, it’s not easy, but there are some tricks that help. Most, if not all, things that we enjoy are just good writing: from movies to music, even those silly YouTube videos we watch when we’re bored. That's why sometimes I like to look into the process behind them and how they were made. A Hitchcock film appears to me as something divine, that could have only been sent to him in a dream by the Gods of writing and ideas. But when I started looking into it I realized that he started off with a very basic idea. Then, many things were added and others scraped off when he realized they didn’t fit, and he slowly kept polishing as he went further into the creation. Therefore the process of creating such a movie didn’t come in one session, in fact it wasn’t ev...

TRIGGER WARNING : SUICIDE, BODY DYSMORPHIA  ليلةَ أمس أصابني أرق شديد منعني من النوم حتى السادسة صباحاً ومن شدة بؤسي أني سمعت أصوات العصافير النشيطة قبل نومي، الثانية عشر ظهراً يرِنُّ المنبه للمرة المئة وأنا مُتظاهرٌ أني لا أريدُ سماعهُ، أنظرُ له بنصف عين ثم أعود إلى غفوتي، أخيراً أيقظني الجوع من السبات، نظرتُ إلى الخزانة لا يوجدُ أي لباسٍ مرتب، ألم أرتب خزانتي من قبل؟ نظرتُ إلى نفسي في المرآة، فشعرت ببعض القبح، ما هذه السمنة المفرطة؟ لماذا شكلي هكذا؟ تباً للجينات التي أحملها، الثانية بعد الظهر متوجهٌ إلى أقرب مطعم من أجل الإفطار، الثالثة بعد الظهر عدت إلى المنزل بعد جولة في شوارع المدينة شعرت فيها بالازدراء حيث كانت نظراتُ الناس لي غريبة، ومن شدة الانزعاج اخذت علبة السجائر بدأت بالتدخين بشكل مفرط، الخامسة عصراً، لدي إختبار في نهاية الأسبوع لكن الدروس كثيرة والأستاذ دائماً ما يطلب مني أن أحلق شعري المجعد، الدرسُ الأول عنوانهُ غريب، للأسف نسيت القهوة تغلي، هذه الحياة ليست لي، الخامسة وربع بعد تنظيف المكان من القهوة المحروقة، يطرق أبي الباب فتحتُ له أحضر لي بعض الطعام وأخب...

Artiste : Wissal Boulouah The little kid was blowing on his little plastic toy, letting out loud shrieking whistles. His mom, having a migraine from a long day of house chores, told him to stop whistling because it will bring demons his way. The kid didn’t believe his mom. Why would demons step into a house with quran playing the whole time? Why would demons dare approach a neighborhood that has a big mosque and an old, long bearded Imam? When his mom couldn’t bear the noise anymore, he took his toy and ran out of the house to call his friends out to play.  The street was empty but from some old men playing cards on the café's table. The kid called his friends, but they were all busy with homework or napping the afternoon away. He walked around, whistling and whistling, waiting for a friend, or even a demon, to keep him company. The sun was scorching hot, and the humid air suffocating. The kid didn’t notice the silhouette following him around, waiting for the opportunity to at...

  Le 5 Décembre et comme chaque année, le Maroc fête la journée nationale du don de sang. C'est l' occasion de lancer un appel au gouvernement et aux autorités sanitaires afin qu’ils mettent en place des systèmes et des infrastructures permettant d’augmenter la collecte de sang auprès de donneurs bénévoles  et qu’ils allouent les ressources nécessaires à ces activités. L'Organisation Mondiale de la Santé (OMS) insiste sur la nécessité de constituer un stock de réserve qui équivaut à sept jours de consommation, pendant que le Maroc ne détient qu'un stock de trois jours. Sans oublier que l a pandémie du coronavirus a freiné le don de sang au point que les réserves ont chuté de 50% durant ces deux dernières années comme l'indique le ministère de la santé. De ce fait, les étudiants de la Faculté de Médecine et de Pharmacie de Casablanca (FMPC) se sont mobilisés durant toute la pandémie aux différents points de transfusion et cette fois-ci, dans la faculté le 29 et le 30...

  La beauté réside dans les détails.  Ne regardez pas, observez.  N’entendez pas, écoutez. C’est le regard qu’on porte sur ces détails qui fait la beauté des choses. Admirer une œuvre, ce n’est pas seulement l’image qu’elle renvoie mais plutôt la manière de sa conception, les moyens utilisés, l’amour qui lui a été porté, les émotions transmises dans chacun de ces traits. Assiya Tahcine : artiste « Just a lost soul waiting for her storm of mixed emotions to take her to another dimension where art, love and freedom take over »

  Haytham El Ghaloussi : artiste Fleurir parmi les orties et retranscrire l’état d’âme de la survie

  The Bride of Anzar - by Yasmine Magrane North Africa is known for its ancient civilizations. The Amazigh people were and still are one of the strongest that ever inhabited those regions. The freemen of the mountains are strong, fearless and loyal to their land. An agriculture-based lifestyle made them rely on the gifts of the heavens, so they waited for the rain and celebrated its first drops each year. Until that tragic day, when Lehkima (physician) of the village was on her deathbed. She was visited by Anzar, the god of rain, and saw her last vision; The Earth will absorb its waters, years of drought and hunger will take place until a chosen person will emerge and be sacrificed for the rain to fall again. The consequences were severe, the kingdom weakened and sickness spread among its people. Anzar took mercy on them a few times during the harsh 20 years of extreme lack of rain, but still, it wasn’t enough for even half a recovery.   20 years passed and Lunja reached ...