By Loubna Flah
By Loubna Flah
Morocco World News
Casablanca, July 1, 2012
All the lovers say « The moon is ours ». They hold on stubbornly to the belief that the moon is a glittering focal point where their delusions converge. They all think that their separation is the most unbearable pain. They believe that their communion is a unique happening on earth. They may believe that their intoxication is the outcome of life and in the darkest moment, they would choose death rather than departure.
She has always considered love as a state of dedication in the adoration of the beloved one. She believed that devoted people should seek the proximity of the beloved one and, in this intimacy the feeling of a common destiny becomes more penetrating than ever. Imane was this kind of girl that men would describe as “emotional”, whereas women would describe her as “Simple-minded”, since it is commonly believed nowadays that disclosure of one’s true feelings is a senseless act.
Yet, Imane would deliberately refuse to learn the morale of the stories she is been constantly told. It may be comprehensible since yearning for love becomes usually a fixation in young hearts barely aware that the desire to own the beloved one and be owned by them may be doomed to decline. Life has its mysterious ways of smoothing our rough edges. That is exactly when Humans set off on the perilous yet inevitable path of compromise.
The chores, family troubles, children responsibly, job anxiety have an anesthetic effect on people. Once dragged at the centre of this spiral, all those unfulfilled wishes, those candid promises vanish swiftly.
While she was preparing coffee, the past emerged suddenly out of nowhere. Her only son was at school and her husband gone for a long business trip as usual. Waiting for the kettle steam to come out, she remembered his name. It has been there in the deep recess of her mind.
“Ali, what are you doing? leave that poor tree”
“I just want to carve our names entrapped love, like all lovers do”
“Aha, who told you that we are lovers?”
“Hmm, Socratic questioning, go ahead”
She repeated “What makes you assume that we have reciprocated feelings of love?”
He paused for a moment and said: “Because like a refrain, you are so pervading in my mind;”
She retorted with a shrewd smirk on her face: “Still, it is no evidence that this feeling is mutual. It may be just your obsession”.
He lifted one eyebrow in defiance and said:
“Ok, have you ever seen a river?”
“A river, yes of course”
“What is a river”?
“It is a water course that flows into the ground”
“Ok, does the river stop flowing “
“No, it keeps flowing till…”
He interrupted her “Till what?
She replied “Till it reaches the ocean”
He asked “Is there any other possibility that the river flows upward for example “
She laughed” Of course not, Mr. Hassan”.
He paused and recovered his composure.
“You see, Imane, you are the river and I am the ocean. You keep coming to me. In your states of consciousness, you keep coming to me as a person, and in your states of distraction, you still come to me like a beautiful dream adorning my nights. Well, if this is not reciprocity, what is it then Madam?”
Iman smiled with a look of a dauntless desire in her eyes.
He grabbed her hand and said” oh, it’s already 10, we should rush, the auditorium must be packed and you know that economics is my favorite subject, come on” .They run together like two children.
“The children are still at school, I will pick them in 15 minutes, don’t worry my dear”.
He put the cell phone in his pocket, rubbed his eyelids and closed his laptop. He had prevented his wife from driving since she has reached her ninth month of pregnancy. Meanwhile he started enjoying the sight of his children jostling in all directions at the end of their school day. He appreciated the feeling of tenderness and pride when he hugs his two girls and asks them relentlessly the same question” What did you learn today?”
The house was calm. Ali was reading the newspaper in the living room when his wife said:
“Ali, can you please check if the girls have brushed their teeth”
‘Yes dear, just try to have rest. I will handle this”
Hassan headed to the girls’ room. The oldest one who had her mother’s silky and straight hair was reading a book. The youngest one, who was only five, smiled at him and uttered joyfully “Papa”.
He took her on his lap and said “Imane, what are you doing?
“I am drawing papa. This is a mountain. The teacher said that the mountain is grey. This is the sun, the sun is yellow and this is the river. She stopped perplexed “Papa, what color is the river”
He looked at her brownish eyes and smiled “My dear Imane, in pictures, the river is blue”. He kissed his kids good night and switched off the lights.