May 6, 2025
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I returned to the prayer mat, the land where I celebrate the reunion of all the fragments of myself that I lost while walking upon the dunya. I returned to the prayer mat and every sad thing inside of me turned beautiful. Every pain turned into joy. Every breath felt like breathing in an entire constellation. Flowers started to grow on my flawed walls and the pain that came with the heartache suddenly bursted into fireworks in my sky of hopefulness. Tears rushed to put out the flame that was burning me from the inside out. I put my head down but it was my heart that fell down and got sunk into the deep earth. I touched my forehead on the ground but I felt touching the windowpanes of my heart from inside. The heaviness that sunk me in the dark oceans of the dunya suddenly vanished and I found myself floating above every places where I once drowned. Prayers, are the streetlights to the way home and they themselves feels like home too.
-Ig: lifeofmajnun
In my heart dwell a thousand Majnuns, and a thousand Laylas.
— Siham Bouhlal, [Qui est Madjnoun]
Majnun
They tell me "Crush the desire for Layla in your heart!" But I implore thee, oh my God, Let it grow even stronger. Take what is left of my life and add it to Layla's. Let me never demand from her as much as a single hair, even if my pain reduces me to the width of one! Let her punish and castigate me: her wine alone shall fill my cup, and my name shall never appear without her seal. My life shall be sacrificed for her beauty, my blood shall be spilled freely for her, even though I bum for her painfully, like a candle, none of my days shall ever be free of this pain. Let me love, oh my God, Love for love's sake, and make my love a hundred times as great as it was and is!
-- Nizami Ganjavi --
An excerpt from the epic poem written about the love story of Layla and Majnun [Majnun: crazy; he was literally crazy in love with Layla]
monomania
Qualche volta Majnun, l'"amante folle", invidia gli altri innamorati [...]: gli altri baciano, abbracciano, posseggono la donna amata; mentre il suo amore (anche se nessun padre nemico lo allontanasse) non tollera il possesso, proscrive la vicinanza, esige la distanza e l'eterna separazione. Ma proprio a causa della separazione, egli vive soltanto d'amore: l'amore lo pervade, lo possiede, distrugge qualsiasi altra realtà attraversi il suo animo; tutti gli altri esseri umani, tutti gli altri oggetti gli sono indifferenti e il suo io si scioglie come un cero arso da una fiamma troppo forte. (da P. Citati, Due libri di Nezami, in La luce della notte)
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Loving all the Romeo and Juliet parallels people keep finding on Marc Spector and Layla...
Visual references and such, which first got my attention here. And which inevitably gets me thinking how our estranged Mrs Spector is a namesake of one half of "the Romeo and Juliet of the East", Layla and Majnun. Granted, the meaning of the name 'Majnun' as "crazy" would not exactly be appropriate to Marc's situation being "a little more complicated" than that, what with his potential disorder being a very serious matter for real life; but the literal meaning of "possessed by jinn" could be more appropriate to his Khonshu relationship. And a tragic love being driven into the desert by madness technically exists. Plus some love triangle representation with whatever complications developing with Steven Grant; and a conflict with or involving the female's father being what ultimately separates the two lovers. Not expecting that the Moon Knight pulled much from the story for our couple that actually did get to marry, but I could see the name Layla as being a poetic nod to it. The course of true love never did run smooth when one partner or the other is "unwell".
THE MOMENT HE stepped inside L’Eden, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He stared warily around the lobby, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Even so, the light seemed to waver through the windows. Without knowing why, his heartbeat began to race as he entered his private elevator. Inside, he steadied himself. Perhaps he was light-headed with hunger, or else coming down with a fever … but then the elevator doors opened.
The first thing Séverin noticed when he stepped into his hallway was not a person but a perfume. The unmistakable lilt of rose water and sugar. He held his breath, unwilling to release it in case none of this was real. But then the door to his apartments opened. A slender shadow fell across the carpet. Séverin could not bring himself to lift his gaze. His hope was too heavy, too painful. When he was forced to breathe again, it felt as if it were the first breath of a new life.
- - - - - - - - - -
FOR YEARS, HE has lived not as a god or as a man, but as a ghost, and in two words, he finds himself gloriously resurrected. Two words, which make him almost believe in magic, because time, so still to him for so long, now lifts its head eagerly at the sound and begins to move forward once more.
“Hello, Majnun.”
“I pass by this house, Layla's house
and I kiss this wall and that wall
it is not love for the house that has taken my heart
but of the one who dwells in that house”
✧ Qays ibn Mullawwah