everybody wants happiness nobody wants pain . but you can not have a rainbow without a little rain, this is what my mum usedto tell before she can die , but i never knew how she died , they used to lie to me and tell me she has traveled far far away .
My father,Hassan is a fisher,he got married to a very beautiful woman called Kenza ,he was 18 as he told me ,they used to watch movies in Collize a well known cinema in Sale, he was never able to buy her a ring but she loved him though,his best moments with her were when he stole money from his dad's drawer and hid it to buy a ring for his lovely wife .
did you regret it? i said.he looked at me with his funny looks and answered: you are a writer are you not?you shall know better: just guess;
another smile started to show on his flawless yet wrinkled face when i asked: what about mum? what about her. he replied. how did she die? i said .
Salman ,you should go to bed now okey ,i will tell you the story tomorrow . i noded my head took a deep breath ,waited for a while and said:going fishing? yes. he said,but i'll be back.
I watched him standing ,following a straight line that leads immediatly to the door,he closed it carying his
bucket of fish,his fishing road and a small black wallet that i was always curious about,anyway,he left and as he always promisses he will come back . i closed the door after him,sat in my room writing words with my typing writer,writing and waiting for my Baba to come.
In my room,there was a small window where Somaya and i used to talk through,she lives in the house in front of us ,her father died last year and she lives with her grandfather who is or was a journalist 10 years ago ,poor Somaya ,she has never gone to school, written a letter or even her name. Her grandpa is a very strict man , he has never forgotten a prayer,he also forbids Somaya from seing me, my Baba always thought it was mean of him . so, i used to teach Somaya through that window when my Baba was fishing. i remember when i was eight ,Somaya came to our house and said: Salam alaykoum . then,my dad said :Salam Somaya ,are you here for Salmane? No,i am actually here to cangratulate you for your new job.she said. Oh , that is very nice of you , come on in,have a sit with us... my Baba said
no,thank you my grandpa is probably waiting for me.Somaya said .
oh ,that's too bad . yeah.she said then she left . She always had a red rubbin pulled of her hair,actually,i remember clearly what was she wearing that day,a purple sweater and a light blue floral skirt . i also remember that i used to laugh at her when her grandpa forced her to cleen his artificiel teeth ,and my Baba was yelling at me for doing that.
Somaya always loved my stories ,she was the only one who really cared about them. I remember she came to our house once in Aid Al Adha,where she asked me to write her a letter ,oh , by the way my Baba handpicked the sheep,he had some crooked black ears and his face was powder white,i just could not take my eyes out of it ,how he moves and i remember ha made the noisiest mewling in the world ,my Baba had to share the sheep with Somaya's family, they were sort of poor,Somaya sais that my dad is oversimplyfying things ,because for each subject he just discusses it in a very simple and indecipherable way.
Mohammed,my Baba's best friendsmokes as well ,i try to tell myBaba stop smoking but of coutse he never listens,in our house there was a room called smoking room it's pretty obvious that smoking is the only thing they do their. i remember once when i entered at my Baba when smoking , blue smoke suivrled around his face, his glare made my throat feel dry. i said:hey dad i wrote a new story you may want to check it . He looked at me through the clouds of smoke and said:Salman have you gone to school? But ,dad... i said ,he cutted me and replied;i remember i asked you a question isn't it?
