In a few days, tens of thousands of people will gather in New York City Times Square to watch the ball drop. Some would even begin to line up as early as 3:00 PM in the cold Big Apple December. The angels of this night are, without doubt, the New York Police Department (NYPD), on duty, away from their families and loved ones, controlling crowds and traffic, ensuring security. This story begins when the ball drops to show 2016 instead of 2017. Only this is not a mistake!

Time is one of the biggest mysteries for humanity. We are unable to define it, and yet, we build theories around it. We have always been incredibly curious about the past and the future, and naturally, the best way to explore that is to be there and live the moment. Ancient scriptures tell us about the first, and maybe the last, true time travels recorded in the history of mankind. It talks about some people who died/slept for 100 or 300 years (without aging), then woke up and experienced life in the future. Although, we know little about their experience, I believe it was enough to spark research and develop this phenomena to reach the stage that we know today.

Now, if you wish to travel to the future or back in time, there are few theories that you could be experimented with. Physicists say that if the math is applied, it should work. Some philosophers argue that if time travel is possible, we would have seen “time tourists” from the future. Right now, I would like to put science aside and fantasize that I am in Times Square New Year’s Eve, where it is snowing lightly on the happy, lovely New York crowds, and wait for the countdown that will fill the city with joy.

The ball dropped. Seriously now?? I traveled thousands of miles to take a selfie with a mistake? I said to myself. A police officer then tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “What is the number you see?” I answered with frustration, “I know!!! Can you believe this?” He answered, “That I do. It’s your turn to believe that you are back in 2016!!” As I turned to check the number again, trying to understand what in God’s name he was talking about, he whispered to me, “Would you make it count though?” When I looked at him, he was looking directly into my eyes with a poker face, and after three seconds of silence, he turned, looked at the ball, tapped his hat and said, “You have 15 minutes.”

A raging flood of thoughts, worth a lifetime, rushed into my head. Now, I have to find myself in 2016. I remember exactly where I was (50^th and Broadway). I approached myself, my heart beating like Japanese war drums, felt my head spinning, having goosebumps every five seconds. I had covered my face with my jacket’s collar, barely showing my eyes, and tilted my head forward, “I need to speak to you,” I said, and uncovered my face slowly. I think it was the trust I had in myself and the transparent mirror of my face that convinced me that it was me, and I was from the future.

I started by saying, “I do not have much time. There is one thing I need you to know.” I looked over my other-self’s shoulder and saw the same police officer approaching, with his eyes fixed on me, and I knew that I only had a few seconds. I desperately wanted to make it count. I put both my hands on my other-self shoulders, grabbed firmly, and shook him. The officer was still approaching through the crowds. As much as I had appreciated the sound of joy a few minutes ago, I was now terrified that my voice could not be heard. I leaned toward my other-self’s ears, keeping my eyes on the officer and said, “Do not numb the pain you will get… feel it… live it…. and…” The officer grabbed and pulled me by my waist with his left arm around it and started walking. My other-self shouted out, “What pain?” I answered at the top of my voice, “Just grieve!!!”

After pulling me a few meters away, the officer, standing in front of me blocking the entire view, looked me in the eye for three seconds and said, “What is the number you see?” I turned, knowing it would be 2017. I glimpsed at the ball, turned back, and saw the officer dressed casually, wearing a New Year pointing hat, jumping and celebrating. I looked at him and said, “Now what?” He put his arm around my shoulder, and said with a smile, “Now we celebrate. I am off-duty today. It’s 2017, remember?” I answered, “That I do. By the way, I left my phone in my other-self’s pocket.” His jaw dropped, along with his smile. Walking backwards, I tapped my Yankees cap, smiled and said, “How do you like them apples?” I then walked away, hands in my pocket, feeling confident, experiencing an inner peace, and smiling from my heart, knowing that I had taken the advice and grieved.

Sir Ken Robinson once said, “If you are not prepared to be wrong, you will never come up with anything original.” As time travel is not possible now, mistakes are inevitable, because it’s our nature. Let’s be prepared and treat every mistake as one step closer to success, rather than consuming our energy thinking how it would have been, had we changed it. Happy New Year, 2017!

كيف لي ألّا أناجي طيف حب .. أضاء دجى قلبي المتيم

لم أخش عجزي رؤية يدي وإنما .. فزعت ان اكون أعمى الحب المترقب

أذكت رحب قلبي بعطر جلدها فقلت … يا بساتين الأرض هذا المسك أزكى واجود

قالت البساتين والله ما هذا بمسك… انه ريح الفردوس تجلى في قلبها المرهف

كشفت عن سر جمال الخليقة عندما ..  تجلى شيئً من جفن ناظرها الأحور

قلت لها ان بقلبي صبابة طال مسكنها .. فهل من آس يجس العليل المغرم

بسطت يدها فاقبل صدري يضمها … فجال الأُنس في دمي مجال النهر المتدفق

فوددت حينها لو ان داء الموت يخطفنى… لتكون اخر ما يمسه فؤادي المحتضر

It is a day like any other day, the sun came up on time, the wind blew and people start to go about, I was setting on a chair on the white sands of a tropical island, with icy drink, listing to the calm waves hops the shore, inhaling ocean breeze, watching the sun goes down, feeling my soul levitate with happiness. However I never knew what the tide could bring, or what it could leave behind.

I took a walk along the beach with my white shirt and my beige pants rolled up to my knees glimpsing the horizon and exploring the beach with a branch I cut to be the perfect stick. I came a cross a piece of paper floating I turned it with my stick to see a picture, I picked it up and as the water was dripping I realized that the picture was weeping, a picture of a child just rescued setting on the chair of the paramedics, looking at his hand could not tell blood from dirt, could not scream, could not cry , could not call for parents, thinking maybe this is how children play, my knees failed to left me I tried to hang on my stick but it slipped right through my hand for it was weeping too. I fell, holding the paper with both hands looking at the picture, stick and the sea moaning humanity, how could this be the price of any cause? How could this picture travelled through oceans and never picked up? How could a stick feel in a second what humans could not grasp in life time?

I looked at my chair and my dewed drink, and thought I shall send this paper back to the ocean for there is nothing I can do, the ocean hugged the picture and my stick rode the wave to be with them. I rest both my arms on my knees and hid my face, ashamed how could my heart became harder than a stick and salter than the ocean, how could a chair, drink and sunset made me so self centered and loose the human side of me, even animals care and have mercy for children other than their own. I looked up to picture my own child setting on that chair, my senses could not process that thought, I reached out my hands even though its only a fiction of my imagination, my selfish solid heart was finally alive, I jumped into the ocean to catch the picture with no luck, I went back to the shore wet, cold, and disappointed, I sat on my chair rest my head back and had a glimpse on the beach to see thousands of pictures, should I go for the pictures to help, or rest on my chair for the sunset?

يا ليلة بالامس طاب زائرها … عندما انخى البراق جناحه في الافق

 فقلت انما هذا لخير البرية ومنذرها … محمد رسول الهدى للأمم

 فقيل اركب بسم الله مرسلها … سنريك رحاب الارض والسماء والسحب

 فنظرت ثم نظرت في ثناياها … لعلي اجد مثل قرة عيني في الجمال والكرم

 فرجع لي ناظري خائبا قائلها  … انها نبع هذا وذاك فثم الوجه المتبسم

 لو كان حاتم لقال طائيها … لا اجد لها مثيلا  في الجمال وانها لاجود

ان البراق أضناه بحثها … فقلت لو تجلى جبينك او شيء منه في الافق

فجاوبتني بشجون وعذب صوتها … والله ما تاقت جبيني لغير وجهك الاسعد

 لعمري ان النرجس اكتسب لونه من حياءها … حين تدفق الدم لخدها الاصهب

 فسلام عليها ما دام خالقها … ودامت للخليقة اسمى من شعر مبتذل

Do not blame me for it hurts , it was right what you said and I was ashamed

Taking that blame so far thinking it is going to be good and praised

Sympathy is what I needs for my heart is torn and scared

I farewell a queen that ruled not only my heart but also my soul I am afraid

I wished then that I was a stone and my soul was slaughtered with a blade

My brain bled when her eyes leaked as we hugged like sides of spades

I wished not but she drew a line that only God can cross or re state

Patience is merely a cobbled dress that I wear.. upgrade.. but does not aid

I pegged my eyes .. stop pouring or your sight will surely fade

What good is a sight if she’s not .. life then is just one big charade

I run out of excuses so reality answered it is your mistake.. big as a glade

I was granted to rule in her kingdom, and now banned and strayed

Who betrays the virtue of love, life and joy betrays back and raid

I made the bitter potion of longing .. only to drink, cry and fade

They tell me she broke it.. I say I ruined it .. and she was staid

I never thought this day will come.. but I called for it when that mistake was made

I wish I was drugged I wish I was drunk yet I was sober but drained

I wish my Queen was not human for only then she would believe it was decayed

My side never tasted a sight like when beside her on the bed of escapades

I would grant my life for a moment.. back when I was the king of the parade

I would grant my life to go back and travel, crawling to her even on sharp blade

I would grant my life to go back and kill that stupid demon and persuade

God, I beg forgiveness I beg sanity I beg patience and I wish I was prepared

I jumped into a well , that i was hoping to have a  bottom to hit and fade

Instead I am still falling to an endless agony hoping to end if I prayed

I would wait till patience is redefined or death visit me or I get betrayed

Betrayed by death if she goes before me for I die every second made

Aging while hanging onto a straw drowning in her eye and her shade

I whispered to the sky to rain to be touched by the same rain I portrayed

I dream of a dream where I stand before her throne with a trade

Take my soul for one night with you , and that is a fair trade

If you don’t then know this… I would never give up even my soul get abrade

I pray for you with every breath… for my last would have your name arrayed