File spoon-archives/postcolonial.archive/postcolonial_2002/postcolonial.0204, message 133


Date: Mon, 8 Apr 2002 00:42:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Marwan Dalal <dmarwan-AT-yahoo.com>


The Dreamer in the Dark

 

I had a dream tonight. The dream was that I woke up
today morning at 7:00 am. I made coffee and read the
newspaper on the balcony, right under the sun. After I
finished from my daily ritual, I took the bike and I
went out, biking towards Al-Manara to get ka’ek
(sesame bread) from Abu-Mustafa. I hadn’t seen him in
10 days, I had been isolated in my house.

Along the way, I saw the streets of the city-center,
dream-like with cleanness, and the shopkeepers
shrugging of the night and opening up their belongings
of shops. I saw many people, dressed in attire,
seemingly headed off to work. 
On my way to Al-Manara, I saw many people I knew;
“Sabah el-Kheir! Sabah el Kheir!”. I reached work and
it was such a hectic day that left me feeling pleased;
my time at work had passed just the way I wanted to,
thriving with the feeling of achievement. 

At 5:00 pm I finished work and I biked towards home. I
passed by the bakery and I bought some fresh bread,
quickly though, since no queue of customers was there.


I reached home. I took a bath. I listened to music,
loud music. Then I made a few phone calls to some
friends, to see what the plans were for this evening.
One of them suggested going out for a beer to Ziryab,
and then I made plans with two other friends to go
watch a movie in Al-Kasaba.

Now the film was very interesting. The title of the
film was Dreamer in the Dark. The story was
fascinating, about a guy who was isolated in his
house, living in his dreams, all of his existence
resides in darkness, his sleep over-populated with
various sweet things, but yet he remains a very
melancholic person. 

The movie ended and we went out to Ziryab. The outing
was truly enjoyable, because it was nice to see Ziryab
swarming with people, people who were enjoying
themselves immensely. We had to wait over 15 minutes
to get ourselves seated at a table and we sure did
drink a lot of draft beer; Taybeh! 

A few hours had passed from midnight, and it was time
to head back home. Clemens offered me a drive, but I
preferred to walk; there was a warm breeze that night,
and the night was still with silence. I was feeling
tipsy with drunkenness. I walked through the streets
and I felt so alive in this throbbing city. I was
singing with sheer delight.

I did reach home. I went to sleep. I wanted to dream.
I wanted to wakeup from the dream!!! 

 

Bassam Almohor

Ramallah, April 7, 2002




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