Started In Paris
Time Games
The combination of light gray with milk white is very pampering for the eyes. This pair of bed linen and blankets has accompanied me every night while in the land of people. Not long ago I tidied the bed sheet and blanket heard the sound of knocking from the door.
I then walked to open the door, seen Mrs Bill with a brown bag on her arm. Looks like this lady is going to travel again.
"Good morning, forgive me for bothering you, I thought today I'd go with your Uncle to his parents' house outside the city. Maybe 3 days I was there" he said with a smile.
I nodded kindly, I already knew that as long as I was here I would have more time to be alone at home.
"Be careful and don't forget to always tell" I replied.
"I hope you'll be at home, all right!" He said and walked out of my sight. I followed his steps from behind to the main door of the apartment, where my eyes watched until he turned into the hallway at the other end. The reason why I didn't drive him to the lobby, of course you know.
The words of Abah and Ummi still ring in my head. Yesterday night long enough we talked, until I forgot that the smartphone used was Luluk's.
"A few months ago, an old friend of yours came here, saying he wanted to propose to you Nduk"
Can not just disappear from memory, Abah's voice seemed able to describe the situation that occurred there. Unbeknownst to me, he came back. I admit I used to put my heart to him, but who would have thought that it disappeared over time because it was too long in my heart?
Until I managed to forget it because I think I already have a replacement, with the deep wounds of my heart broken to forget his name that had been engraved in the mind, now there is nothing more I expect from a third of my night.
That close he was to follow me all the way here, what would he say? I don't know.
****
As far as my feet go, my eyes look here and there. Quite crowded, because of the weekend, most teenagers who are enjoying their holidays, playing on the side of the road with friends and family.
Today my destination is my favorite mosque in the city. I always miss him, but because of my busy life, I rarely go there. I don't know how many times I've visited him. Today I intend to be there until nightfall.
Ancient European-style buildings add an exotic impression. Some of them look like a stacked house, because there are many windows on each side, it is wrong if people call it a hotel.
This city instantly made me feel like a real European, why not?
The dishes, the impressions in every moment, the carvings that attract attention, every inch of my days as if walking backwards, the smell of this ancient Europe still stings in my nose, I don't want to leave this city of light.
Arriving at the mosque, I immediately took ablution water and went into it. While waiting for my azaan open the little Qur'an that I always carry wherever I go. Each sheet has changed color, yellow as if aging by time.
My memory jumped to a few years ago, when Abah gave this to me as a gift because I entered the top 3 of High School time. The shabby blue cover, probably because I was in my bag too long, I wouldn't replace it. Because he is the one who has been a witness in every struggle.
The letter by letter that formed the painting lined up neatly and beautifully, my tongue chanted gently. Yes, maybe I'm the only one listening.
After a few leaves, my reading stops at the end of the verse. My heart shook, my fingers began to stretch just to hold the mushaf. Once again my ears heard it, this was the second time.
That sound..
That reading..
That chant..
My breath goes up and down, I try to control it. I know him, but why don't I know? If the voice had revealed its owner, even if it was only one part of his face, I might have recognized him.
But as if I was being toyed with by circumstances, time not on my side, I was made to always wonder who he was. The sound of this murrotal is very soothing, how charming the owner. I listened with wisdom, enjoying the beautiful tone, which would not be possible to have a rival.