Za2ir al Layl

He has the guts to show up again! After all these years, after all the explanation I gave to myself for his existence in this world, after doing my best to forget his name, he's here! And for the second time this week!

Standing there with his straight emotionless face, at my door, same face I used to see and swear to everyone that he's smiling at me. Oh God, I forgot how much I hate him now. But his presence brings back bunch of memories, sweet and bitter, that I do treasure.

I don't remember how we first met but I'm sure it was in my grandma's house when I was very young, maybe 5 years old or even younger. I never liked him and my grandma used to tell me "Just ignore him. Forget he's there"

All mischief happens when he's around. I remember once I was very annoyed for his presence and I decided to raise the broom to scare him and since the broom stick was taller than me, as well as my young sister, it fell on her head and she was taken to the ER and she came home with couple of stitches in her head. She always blames ME for that and not him! Not even once!

And there he is standing as high as the door, pretending he's cool. But I swear I saw him breathing fast and could count his heartbeats. I was told once that he senses other's heartbeats and knows if people are intimidated by him. So whenever I see him
I do my best not to show my pulse has reached over 150 bpm.

After all these years, I forgot how much I hate him. I remember when I was a teenager; he "accidentally" came in to family bathroom when I was there. I kept screaming and shouting at him. And later thanked God that my bathroom was fixed ASAP so I won't have to go to the family bathroom and remember this embarrassing experience.

Today, standing in the flesh, facing me with his ever known rudeness, in no doubt of the feelings I had for him, and certain that today I despise him more than ever and hated the sound of his name, staring at me without a blink. I gaze at him telling myself "I'm strong enough to face him. He's nothing. I'll survive this moment and will brag about it later" which I'm not sure of right now.

I decided to act like him. He stares, I stare back. He says nothing, I say nothing too. He pretends to ignore me. I pretend to ignore him too. He stands there silently; I'm silent still… until I came to my senses and remembered I'm all by myself and the last thing on earth I would want is to be with him in the same room with no one else around. All my fears for this moment were what if he steps in?

I was working on a piece of art, using a trimmer and wooden tools, my hand grabbed the nearest scalpel. Yes, I used scalpels and I have many sizes. Holding the scalpel in my hands, raised it to make sure he'll notice it I said with a firm voice "addamorrak, agga6i3ak, ashari7ak… etha tfakir tidkhul" (I'll destroy you, cut you into pieces, and dissect you… if you think of coming in).

To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if he understood a word but I'm sure these words were enough to alarm him and that's how he decided to wait until I was not looking at him so he can escape from the opening between the ceiling and the door and save face. Lizards!

After I graduated from the 4th grade, during the summer when I had a very long curly hair, I used to tie my pony tail really high so the hair won't touch my neck. I was playing at our neighbors' garden with my sister and their two daughters. Their two young men cousins where staying with them so they were in the garden to witness the scene. The girls and I were playing with dolls and I felt my hair was on my arm. It ticked me so I pulled my hair to the other side. Something was still there and that's when I started shouting and running, followed by the girls, all hurrying towards my house and some other kids from the street started running with us.

I went in to my mom, crying and telling her: "I looked at him while he was standing on my arm… I moved my arm… he looked at me... He ran towards my hand… then looked left and right as if he's crossing a street and then went to the finger in the middle and jumped to the porch". He was very tiny that you may see his guts through his pink skin. That summer I was no longer the girl with the long hair.

In the year 2000, I moved to bigger room which had a bigger window the only door to the backyard garden that was known as Attawie's garden. I was very excited about having a bigger room and a garden for myself. I kept dreaming about making it something like "7adeeqat Ommi" (my mother's garden) the one I used to see in Sandy Bell cartoon. All my dreams went in vain with the first visit paid by a huge gigantic lizard. The door was locked ever since and was covered from all sides with sponge and wood.

My mother is a real Lizard-buster. Even neighbors used to call her to help them with such situation. She has a broom stick that she used only for the purpose of killing this creature, in addition to a sort of pest control gun with a formula called "nogoss" (if that's the right spelling). He was able to hi that huge lizard but it wasn't enough to kill him. But he disappeared. After about a month he appeared in my sister's room with two tails! He started to appear several times here and there and no one could catch him. We started calling him "abu thailain" (the one with two tails)

Then he paid me another visit and disappeared. I saw him leave the room but nobody outside the room saw him coming out. After a while a small lizard was about to enter my room and disappeared! I thought there must be a reason why lizards disappear next to my door. That's when I discovered that there was a missing piece of wood on the top of my door where lizard can get inside the door itself. We covered the place of the missing piece with a sticking tape as well as the whole of the lock. I left the door open for days until I could touch the handle. Eventually I forgot about it.
The next summer, I heard scratching sound and a weird screaming sound but not of a human. Then a wounded average-sized lizard came out followed by "abu thailain"! I left the room and things were taken care of by my mother and I don't even want to know the rest of the story.

That's all for now
And I hope I won't see a lizard again

It Was A Tree

It was a tree. A tree like any tree you may see in the street. You may see huge melancholy on its branches, as if it was carrying burden of the hundred years it ages. But its trunk proudly stands against stormy winds. A lot have been said about the tree in many different religions and cultures. Many myths and stories surrounds this tree and it's blesses.

It is said that its fruit was the first fruit Adam, peace be upon him, tasted on earth. The same tree has many names in many different cultures. It is known as Christ thorn Jujube, Siddir (or Annab in Arabic) which is recommended by Islamic Medicine. Traditional medicine also has a lot to say about it. Its leaves are used to cast off magic spells, the scientific name of Nabk Trees.

This tree is full of benefits whether its trunk, leaves, flowers or the fruit and its seeds. It is cultivated southern Asia, between Syria, northern India, and southern and central China, and possibly also southeastern Europe though more likely introduced there.

It is believed to alleviate stress, throat soothing, gum problems, ease the stomach, keep bugs and other insects out of the house and free of infestation. Even the honey that bees make from its flowers nectar is very expensive because of its benefits.
A funny thing, the sweet smell is said to make teenagers fall in love, and as a result, in the Himalaya and Karakoram regions, men take a stem of sweet-smelling jujube flowers with them or put it on their hats to attract women.

Although it's an evergreen tree but it tends to pour down its leaves during every single day of the year. How do you I know that? Because I used to sweep its leaves for fun in my grandparents' garage and at times in our garden.

Seeing the round yellowish round fruits on the ground made me forget all about my paranoia and hygiene issues and pick as much as I could carry in my both hands. Washing them with water and drying them with tissue papers there was nothing left but to taste them.

One bite and I literally could say I was charmed. Charmed with this holly fruit taste and what it represented to me. I was no longer there. All I could sense was the sweet honey taste on my tongue and the thousands thoughts, sensations and memories I never knew they existed.

Standing on a three step ladder, with grandma next to me, holding on to me to make sure I was standing safely, on the roof where the dove were roaming above our heads, and birds singing in their nests. Grandma holding on to me while I carry the bucket where we keep the fruits we collect.

Reaching my hand to a nabk fruit that a bird took a tiny bite, reluctant to pick it, I recalled grandma's answer when I used to tell her "but the bird took a bite!" she would reply "Yes dear, it took a small bite to taste it to tell us this one is sweet, take it. It's yummy so the bird left it to us"

During the 1991 war, when we were at my grandparents' house, we spent most of the clear shinny morning playing badminton. Whenever our feather shuttle flies high it get stuck in the branches of the two gigantic trees. We usually attempt to start throwing things, anything you name it, until we call our grandpa to help us. Thousands of tournaments took place under the shades of those two beloved trees.
At school, wars were raged between classes. You see the boys throwing stones and girls run to collect. Each student would throw his best shot and each girl runs as fast as she could to collect the magic fruit and split "fifty-lifty" as we used to call breakeven shares. At times Stones would pour down on student passing by to be sent to ER, nevertheless, that doesn't mean to stop hunting for this sinfully delicious fruit.

After 1992, we moved to a new home where there was one of those trees. It never stopped to amaze us how many pairs of shoes we found when it was time for trimming the tree. We would laugh and make stories about how those people had to leave barefooted.

A handful of fruits and I felt that was it. They are the same fruit. They are the same colour. They have the same smell But in Iraq this fruit was taster and therefore, I had no more.

Here is the second pick :) I know its not as seductive as cherries nor as funny as strawberries but I wouldn't trade them for any of those.



That's all for now