Love? A Disaster

♪ 28 (b): L(ove)abyrinth ♪

"My dream is my Jaffa. To return to but I guess, I'll return to my God before that."

The quivering whisper intermingled with the lapping waves. Raed opened his eyes. Before him, the boundless Arabian sea seemed to be singing a song, the lyrics of which were unknown to him but he wanted to sing along.

"Where are you lost?"

He glanced to his side and found Amal taking off her shoes. She placed her bare feet on the sand, the epitome of childlike wonder. Raed had to smile.

"Memories."

She nodded as if she had expected nothing else. Her long tresses were haywire. She tried to tie them in a bun but the sea breeze at Hawksbay refused to cooperate.

"Sea often makes you contemplate things you'd rather forget. Its noise works like a lullaby, sending you to the dreamland with open eyes."

"And I thought I was the writer." Raed echoed, making her grin.

"You are, but your style is straightforward. I don't expect you to use symbolism instead of straight facts."

"A bit of poetic symbolism and romanticism don't hurt anyone. So, I gather you read my books?"

Amal felt busted but what could she do about it now? "Yes, I'm half through one."

"Thoughts, so far?"

"I'll let you know when I'm done with it."

Raed shrugged, but he couldn't say he wasn't looking forward to it. Both of them walked on the seashore as the sun set on the horizon.

As decided, Amal was doing a fine job at introducing Karachi to him. They traveled around the markets of the city the last time they met. Tariq Road, Zainab Market, International Bara Market, Flea Market, Lea Market, Zaibunnisa Street, and Empress Market, to name a few. Seeing the size of the city, it was practically impossible to explore every famous area but they did try their best.

From Regal Chowk Book Market to Clifton Sunday Bazar, from city hawkers to luxury malls, from Banaras Silk House to old Saddar tailors, from abandoned Pak towers to bustling Dolmen—the disparity within the city was daunting but nothing new. Every metropolis is a blend of this and that, all and nothing.

Then they drove around NED University, KU, and IBA, again this and a bit of that.

"I have my fondest childhood memories attached to this place."

Amal said, turning to him. "Going to the beach was probably my and Ammo's favorite thing in this whole world. I remember," She pointed at a distant hut. "She was sitting there watching me. In those days JJ's Na Tu Ayegi was quite a sensation. You know, they play the whole reel in reverse in the music video and as a child, that was pretty fascinating to me. I tried to mimic it, walking backward but fell on my butt. And instead of coming to my rescue, Ammo kept on laughing there, full belly laugh, I kid you not. She just couldn't help it. I was angry but ended up in hysterics myself."

She laughed at the memory but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Memories always come with this baggage, they linger but everything that makes them is lost.

Amal's eye remained fixed on that hut as she played with a stray lock of her hair. Raed pushed his hands into his pockets. "My grandmother was born and raised on the port of Jaffa. Her home. Until the Nakba in 1948. Her family was thrown into the sea, like several others. Traveling by boats, they reached the refugee camps, a new home, a new identity, and exile in their own country. That shaped Sittee's remaining life. Her Jaffa never left her memory even though it had lost all that she had known it for. She loved the sea, she longed to inhale the air of Jaffa once in her life. Her every story featured the port city and what it meant to her. Beaches often make me sad because they remind me of my grandmother as they used to remind her of her Jaffa. Nostalgia within nostalgia? Maybe."