Iftar 10/09/08 September 10, 2008Posted by Aella in Bahrain, Beirut, Culture, Karlskrona, Lebanon, Life, Manama, Sweden.
The sun had set and something made her slow down the car as she passed by the now lit up fast food joint. She parked her car in an utterly bad and careless way on the side of the road. Not because she was actually careless, merely because she felt no will or strenght to care for a proper parking. Surely the police will be eating now anyway she thought as she grabbed her cardigan, car key and bag and left the car.
As she pushed the door open she once again registered what she already had seen from the street. The place was pretty abandoned except for one couple that had come to pick up a take away. They sat by the window talking and smiling. Their silver coloured car was parked outside the door in the middle of the lane, the engine still running. A small man in a big suv was honking his horn obviously thinking the car would move. It didn’t.
She walked up to the counter and made a quick order of something she had eaten before but still didn’t care much for. Why was she here, she wondered as she walked down the room and sat down by one of the many empty tables. The streets outside were empty with the expecetions of a few men on bicycles cycling by. She rested her face in her hands and sighed. Something inside felt sad and god so heavy. How sad am I, sitting here alone she thought. She grabbed her bag to see if there was anything to read in there but could only find her passport. A manic version of herself was smiling back at her as she flicked through the pages. Sad and lonely were the only feelings she could describe the moment as.
The take away couple grabbed their bags and left. Silence. A feeling of something strange in the air. Her heart sank even deeper. So this was it? She looked outside and saw her reflection in the mirror. Fifty-six empty chairs in the room and then there she was. Alone. She hated to admit it but the air was carrying a feeling from the past. She felt like an abandoned child at Christmas. Not that she ever was abandoned at Christmas.
She ate her food with no contentment whatsoever. Left the joint and drove home.
As she washed her face in the bathroom after having arrived home, she sang a song from her childhood. A song that was a part of a life left behind but held dear in the most secret part of her being.
Loud and clear did her voice echo up through the thirteen storey building. Families having just finished their first meal of the day stopped talking and looked up. Children stopped their crying and interupted their boisterous games. All members of these well constructed family units leaning their heads towards their bathrooms listening to the lonely and clear voice. What language may this be they asked themselves? What floor does this voice stem from?
natten var stor och stum
nu hör det svingar
i alla tysta rum
sus som av vingar
se på vår tröskel står
vitklädd med ljus i hår
The song cleansed her broken spirit if only for a moment and a certain beauty was added to her loneliness. Something from the past held her company.