Monday, 18 July 2016

Two Sides of the Same Coin ; Expression

Photo courtesy: batman.wikia.com

Short story time!


The morning was blue. Cool air sat still on the misty earth, venting through the open spaces of doors and windows. The sun peered through the thick ocean clouds migrating  across the horizon. Its golden peach rays reflecting heat-lessly upon apexes of leaves. Barely any wind...any bird singing melodies to the new day. Drowned into the misty air. It was calm. Not  that of content. That of emptiness. All was as it seemed, still. 


My neighbor's radio was a distant murmur. I could hear people call in to express their opinions which were not of 'last but not least'. Some spoke in swahili and others threw in their mother tongue with the presenters, showing off their connection to the world of listeners. Others mixed it up with English and Swahili, mostly sheng, giving off that cool posture to amend for their reasonably old age. Maybe they felt better about themselves afterwards in this demoralizing world. 

My sibling's phone radiated waves of Saad al-Ghamdi (1) from the kitchen and I could almost make out what the ever kinetic primary children were chanting about beyond my neighbor house from my bedroom window, as other children joined in on the 'everyone is a teacher' class, propagating a pitchy hum, not concerned about anyone's business but their own and who's the best about everything and anything. I admired their innocence.


I laid on my bed, both my arms curled up to support my head with their hands, over my pillow. I looked up at the now dulled white ceiling laced with curved wooden support beams, lain in unevenly spaced rectangular shapes. It was the most common design at that time. 

I remember the carpenter hammering them in as he stood in weird stances from his ladder. He was not the chatty type, unless you'd ask him something or you really knew each other well. That was not the case for many people. My dad though seemed to like him as they talked in mother tongue for what seems like a life time. You'd often hear my dad thunderously laugh from the sitting room. Makes me smirk, as an aftermath. I wonder if we all see the world the same.


I turned to my side, squinting to the feel of my muscles complaining for the late night kesha (2). I sighed it out and ignored it as I tried my luck with 'Round 2' (3). The sun was out now as light poured into my room and drowned  its energy saving bulb. My neighbor's house blocks the sunrise view so i get sun at around ten. The sun isn't so heat-less then. My breathing faded to slow successive contractions of the chest and my leg slightly moved in convulsion; nailed that ball (4). I revisited the sounds around me once more.


The radio now spoke music and Saad al-Ghamdi was at climax. I could hear the tv  this time. It was a familiar tune playing amidst the background of expressions in the school. It was Morning Express news. My dad was probably watching it. I remembered how he exclaimed to the killings in France the other day. 80 plus people perished that day. 

I remembered how keenly he watched CNN that night in Ramadhan when 60 plus people were killed at a gay club and even more injured. I remembered how he would talk of the people killed at that airport in Turkey or  how he would switch the news channels as he would want to get more information on the Black and White struggles in USA or how surprised he was when i told him about the 10 police authorities killed by their own. 

He likes to watch news a lot, especially Aljazeera, because they cover the countless number of that which go beyond logic masses of people killed in Syria and oppression uncovering documentaries among others. He's a news person i guess.


I could feel myself relax away into the deep waters of wonderland as my brain slowly shut the world out, gently pushing it away to cruise away from thought as my---

" Njooo"

A voice broke the savor of sleep.

" Come utupe dustbin"


It was from the kitchen. I deliberately laid there for a few minutes to get the last feel of my bed before I got up to take the bin out. I had plans anyways: almost done with Watch Dogs and NFS (5). Still,I sighed that one off too and pushed myself out of the bed.

"Comiing"


KEY

1. Renounced Qur'an reciter

2. Staying up the whole night or a large part of it

3. Local reference to sleeping after the morning prayers, connotive

4. Relation to kicking a ball with muscle convulsions or spasms

5. Well known video games.


PS.   This article is meant to highlight the fact that the world is changing. Its not the one you grew up in 5-10-15-20 years ago.  All these are true life stories that affect real people and change their lives forever. We should make space for these stories in our own lives because they live in the same world we do. 

The Fitna (trials and tribulations) we were warned about by Prophet Muhammad aleyhi salaam, they are here. A fitna so powerful it'll make the believer wish he/she was 5 feet under. And the last time I checked, it did not make it Syrian, USA or any other country specific. We need to be prepared for it, to help others and protect ourselves from it. Its time to wake up. 

I know I know, #sigh...

So much for Round 2...

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