The Power Of Calmness

Chapter 42

Somewhere faraway

Ego; Man’s biggest downfall. The three lettered words has a lot of synonyms and meanings;

Vainglory.
Complacence.
Amour proper.
Conceit.
Pomposity.

An Inordinate self-esteem.
A disdainful behavior.
An ostentatious display.

And the most popular, vulgar and most-known context to man in relation to it; Pride.

They say reasons to live, give reasons to die. Proudness yields nothing but degeneracy, ebb and eclipse. Now, why possess this character and be a sick narcissist if it’ll bring forth nothing but your ruin, decadence, declension and fall?

In the end you not only conduce to lose, you indeed lose everything. When rain falls on a leopard, does it wash off it spots? The clear and direct answer is NO. And just as it happens with the large cat, it happens with Mahmoud Jalo Mai’Jama’a. The one man who took it upon himself to not only make the life of his wife miserable but, that of his children as well. Sick, I know. Yet, there is only little one can do for an adult, a grown man at that. If not prayers, what else?

It actually makes people start to wonder if the person is sane and not suffering from dementia of some sort or possibly, aberration.

It has been a few years since the divorce, the order, and since both humans embraced their new lives. As time passes, we as humans grow, alter, modify, change, culture and clasp reality into a big bear hug. A lot of sacrifices, commitment and dawn comes with the new life. One would have thought that in all of these years, Mahmoud would have transformed, rebranded and revamped himself into someone more safe, edible, polished, sophisticated and couth. Withal, he was nothing close to a brand new toy.

He feels, senses and perceives the hollowness and concave dent in his brain, the excruciating pain in his spine and deserted void in his heart yet with all of these ado turmoil, he promised to never apologize. How hardened his heart can be. He hurt and caused a lot of people grief; his family, the Ribadu’s and more importantly; his valuable assests he rarely spared a glance at (the children). After the divorce, he moved to one of his many houses, a smaller one this time. He couldn’t stand staying alone in the house, he was frightened. He would sometimes fall into a trance where he would recollect all of the bad scenarios; smashing Habeebah’s head into a glass table, piercing a glass into her shoulder, breaking and slicing her skin in the process, Adnan having to watch that happen and many more of those bad pictures.
        
Which man in his right state of mind, sane and healthy would do something as despicable as that to a woman? A woman he claims to love, a woman he has children with, one he once promised forever and always to. He acts like a switch, a light switch. Sometimes he allows himself to switch on, to feel emotions and just like that he switches off, blocking any form of healthy transmission. His friend Fu’ad has adviced countless of times that he go see a therapist, go talk to someone because he was harboring a lot in, a lot higher than the Egyptian pyramid which was very alarming. His stubborn self would decline, that he was doing perfectly fine which was a blatant lie.

As always the Almighty Mahmoud Jalo was busy with work, seated in his office. Chewing on a pen, twirling in his sit with furrowed brows, he tried to comprehend and solve the puzzle he was looking at.

“Hey man!” Fu’ad hollered, barging into the office.

“Don’t you ever know how to knock?” He seethed calmly, glaring holes into the man’s brain. “Tsk!” He added hissing.

Fu’ad shrugged unbothered, settling himself onto Mahmoud’s desk. “Every bad attitude I have or tend to display, I learnt all of it from you.” He replied, quirking a brow.