Sun & Moon: Chapter Eight

The oud music at the background was amusing her senses, she felt stuck in a time zone as the music tingled her ears. She felt as if she was in her grandfather’s living room when he played the oud serenading his wife. It was a daily feast whenever they visited them. Her grandmother used to smile and always blush as her love took the wooden instrument into his hand and started moving his fingers against the strings. It was heavenly as Sanaa looked at the pure love they both shared; it made her always hope for such a union to comfort her like a cushion on the sofa. She smiled as the chattering increased and took her back to where she was. It was the entertainment segment of the poetry night, which was captivating. The heavy Arabic lyrics to their even magnificent grand meaning shook her to the core, it was all about love, passion and devotion; the themes of the night.

'I play the oud you know?'

Her phone buzzed in her hand as she read the message. She frowned as the sender was a phone number and not a registered contact in her phonebook. She tried asking her friends if they knew the phone number only for them to have the same surprised reaction. ‘I think he’s mistaken’ they told her confidently as they carried on with their conversations. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to put her phone back into her backpack only for it to vibrate before she had the chance. As she took a look at her old borrowed Nokia phone, the one she got from her mother, she noted all the scratches her phone screen had, and secretly wished if she would break it into two. ‘Maybe then, they’d get me the Bluetooth colored screen phone I want’ she thought but for her thoughts to get interrupted again with the vibration. 

‘Sanaa don’t ignore me please’ 

She felt her heart skip a beat. She grew silent as she looked at her phone again. She tried to see if what she understood was indeed correct. Is it a guy? Does he want something from me? What is it that he wants? ‘No no’ she said it out loud convincing herself that it must be a prank her friends are pulling on her. While the oud music still played, the tempo shifted to a song which got her to look at the musician. It was the one her grandfather always played, her favorite oud piece from Abu Bakr Salim. She felt uplifted; her heart at ease and at peace, it felt like a warm blanket engulfed her, keeping her safe and sound. It made her forget what she was thinking of as she travelled yet again to that place, to that living room with the yellow sofa set, the small old television from the 70s resting on wooden high table and the antique furniture which was timeless. It took her to where she always used to sit, on the floor leaning on the cold beige oil painted wall. Sanaa remained there at the front of the stage for the entire duration of the song. She never took note on how she walked from the seats away from her friends to the front of the podium.  And suddenly the music stopped, it was quiet with only chattering of a few people. Sanaa got burst out of the bubble she was in. She was back to reality to where she really was; on the green grass clasping her dry rough hands. She was smiling as she reminisced on her late grandmother's memory but now she was laughing out hard as she looked at how everyone else were pointing at her. It was her embarrassment mechanism; she would laugh to tears just to lighten up the tension she felt in her head. Walking back to her friends’ seating area, the phone vibrated yet again.  

‘Momkin net3araf?’ 

It felt like music to her ears, like her prayers were answered, like the song was a sign that someone would love her the way she saw her grandmother adored.

‘It's pretty intense eh?’ he interrupted her thoughts while resting his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her pain; he could sense that something horribly wrong happened to her as she gazed on the letter H. She brushed her fingers on it, as goose bumps began crawling onto her skin. She couldn’t help but linger on the inscription at the very end of the right corner.

I’ll love you to eternity H. 

She said those words before. She meant every letter and every word which made it impossible to bare the truth that she always will. She closed her eyes shut in an attempt to block the Abu Baker Salim song which now carried nothing but bitter memories. She walked away pressing her hand against the wall, the cold harsh wall. The wall that awoken senses she tried hard to forget about; the wall that reminded her about the cruelty of passion and love. The confession wall which made her reality for today far worse than she would have thought it would be. She walked away wishing she could just demolish the walls she built inside because of him. She hoped and prayed, as tears started stinging her eyes, for the feelings to go away.

It was increasingly quiet and dim as more people left the designated study cubicles and called it a day. The cubicles were wooden and very old fashioned like. It would be the perfect accessory had it was featured in a nineteenth century themed movie. The wooden chairs that matched the desk only missed a pot of ink and a feather pen to look epic. At the very far corner of the room was the only spot which had its lamp lights on. Scribbled sheets of paper and yellow post-its covered the entire desk along with two laptops that were placed at the very end. Bastiaan engrossed in books and papers was almost a light year away as his face came together in a manner where several fine lines shaped on his forehead. He was busy scribbling away and jotting down methods and ideas for his research topic. Sanaa on the other hand, just sat and stared at him working. She was retired for the day and was simply awaiting Bastiaan to finish off and rest his brain. She so wished she could interrupt him and beg him to leave but seeing him engrossed into the subject reminded her how rude it would be if she simply did. She remembered how her mom would barge into her room when she tried to concentrate or when her dad would call her out of the blue asking if she needed help studying. She remembered how hard it would be for her to regain the momentum of coming with ideas and words. She remembered how she despised such people who never thought of others and interrupted, so she decided to pull her laptop close to her and dig up what the cyber world had to offer, just to kill time.

Pressing the typical Alt, Shift, and Delete button, she unlocked her computer and typed in her password, the window brightened up as she clicked on internet explorer to check her hotmail account. There was nothing interesting in her eyes since most of them were forwards she received from her aunt; amateur beginners in cyber space who recently learnt the meaning of the forward button. Hearing grunts and groans from Bastiaan as he disapproved some article he was reading, she looked up to see him consumed and focused. His hair screamed out for help from the constant finger combing and his eyes seemed tired and smaller than they usually were. She giggled silently as she was bemused by his appearance; it was priceless. She couldn’t help contain her laugh when he started biting his tongue as if he was chewing gum, it was his focus mechanism, the way he got things done, by rolling his tongue left and right and savoring on its hardness when he chewed. Overhearing her giggles, he looked into her eyes sharply and furiously. He didn’t appreciate that Sanaa was making him lose focus, he wanted to be done with his literature research for the day and her laughs weren’t helping. ‘Please’ he said in a way his eyes popped out of their socket urging her to be quiet, and if that wasn’t enough he started motioning for her to keep it down and remain quiet. ‘Sorryyy’ she said in a desperate attempt to curb her laughter. Turning her attention to her metallic black laptop, her obvious grin subsided remarkably and got replaced with a pale complexion. She sensed shivers as she saw the pop up Instant Messaging window. She felt her heart throb out of its place as her eyes grew wider. With her breathing growing deeper, the feelings came back rushing again; her resentment, her anger, her sadness, and her pain; they crawled back and found its place again in her heart, in her being. She couldn’t get her head around what was happening. Why now? She wondered. Why after all this? Her head kept searching for answers to keep her calm and get her to understand, but she couldn’t find any when she looked at the sky blue window and the email address at its top. She remembered how once upon a time catching a glimpse of the email address gave solace and peace, she remembered how once upon a time her smile would grow wider as the pop up greeted her whenever she signed in, she remembered how her day would revolve around her being in front of the laptop consumed by sweet beautiful thoughts of a bright colorful future. Her future was now dull, dim and lacked the luster she always hoped she’d have when she was 25. Sanaa spent what seemed like an eternity just reading each single character from hell_boy83@hotmail.com . She felt a pinch of sharp pain as she swallowed and read the three lettered nickname HAS.

9aba7 el kheir ya 7elow

9aba7 el noor

So how was class today?

It was pretty cool, super informative, I just loved class

Right, I wouldn’t for the life of me find class pretty cool

Lol

Not funny am serious

And I didn’t laugh, just surprised

Aha okay, so any plans today sweetness

No not really, the usual stuff

Don’t even complete the sentence.

Haha why not?

I know you’ll go to the library the entire day, I don’t even know why I asked that question

Hahaha you’re funny

Okay I gotta go now, will text you once am free

Okay good luck with management class

Wow you already memorized my schedule

Well what can I say, I have a super high processing brain

Lol now that was funny

She remembered how casual her conversations with him were, how a calming effect would overcome her whenever she felt low or down, and how her stomach would be filled with butterflies every single time he typed down her name.  A sudden nudge got her to yet again face that hurt which surfaced after her long attempt of burying it.

‘So you won’t talk to me?’ The second line of the conversation read and Sanaa couldn’t help but for the salty drops gathering at the corners of her eyes to release and crawl down her cheeks. She tried to ignore, she wanted to, heck she had to. ‘No never will I talk to you’ she said to herself quietly and ignoring him. Reaching out to the top flap of her laptop, she had the intention of closing off everything and leave, but fate had other plans for her. Like the way it had destined her to be sitting on the wooden chair in a foreign country, facing someone engrossed in his books which she knew nothing about. It was fate that lead her to this life. The same fate which broke her to pieces, and cry her eyes out. The same fate that brought the one typing her an instant message into her life.   

‘But I still Love You’ the message popped out in a large black Arial font; the way Sanaa liked her IMs to be.