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Tuesday, December 12, 2006

البنات المقطقطة

فى نوع من البنات لما تتكلم تلاقى نفسـك عند سـماعها لا إرادياً بتدور تحت الكرسـى على قطة جعانة مسـتنيه حد يحدفلها لقمة ولا حاجة وبعدين تكتشـف إن النونوة دى كانت طالعة من البنت الجالسـة أمامك وليس من تحت الكرسـى كما أعتقدت

النوع ده من البنات ممكن ناس تعتبره رقة، يعنى بنات بسـكوت كده بتتفتفت لما تتكلم. أنا بقى ماليش خُلق على البنات المقطقطة دى. بصراحة بزهق، مش بس لأنهم بينونوا، لكن لأن معظم المواضيع اللى بتكلموا فيها بتكون مواضيع قططية خالص

المشـكلة بقى إن فى واحدة أعرفها من فصيلة القطط بضطر أكلمها من وقت لأخر. وفى بعض الأحيان بيقى حظى وحش وأضطر أشـوفها، فقبل ميعاد المقابلة لازم أرتب فى دماغى شـوية جُمل كدة على قد ما أوسُـم علشـان هى أول ما تبدأ تتكلم بأخودلى تعسـيلة سـريعة كدة لغاية ما تخلص اللى بتقوله وأصحى على صوتها بتسـألنى رأيى
فأقوم أنا بقى رده رد عبقرى من الردود اللى أنا مرتباها قبل الخروجة، حاجة كدة زى: الجو جميل، شـئ عظيم، كويس خالص
يعنى... أهو أى كلام يا عبد السـلام، يعنى حاجة كدة زى متقولوا فاصل إعلانى قبل ما صحبتنا تعاود النونوة، أقصد الكلام. وبعد نهاية اللقاء أرجع إلى بيتى و أحمد الله وأصلى ركعتين شـكر إن المرارة لسـة مكانها و ماطئتش

أنا بس نفسـى أقول لهؤلاء البنات المقطقطة أو القطط المبنتته إن الرقة ملهاش علاقة بالسـطحية والمواضيع التافهة والكلام بنرة تثائبية كأنها حدوتة قبل النوم. كمان علشـان تثبتى أنوثتك الطاغية مش لازم تكون المواضيع كلها عن العناية بالبشـرة و المكياج والموضة والفنانات. كما أنه لا علاقة بين الرقة والنطق الصحيح للغة العربية، يعنى مش لازم تنطقى الصـاد، سـين... والقـاف، كاف... و الضاد، دال
(مع الاعتذار للقطط السـيامى والبلدى والرومى وجميع الفصائل الأخرى)

Posted by Wonderer :: 10:00 PM :: 17 comments

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Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Strangers in a Mall

She walked into the main gate of the shopping mall holding her young daughter’s hand. She was talking to her kid and moving her eyes among the huge number of people in the place when suddenly she saw him in front of her.

He was as smart as he used to be as if the years did not pass. She could even smell from a distance the perfume that he used to wear. He was talking to a young woman and they seemed to be having a debate. She wondered who she might be. Maybe his wife… but she doesn’t appear to be his taste!! He used to like elegant and stylish women and this woman is far from being his style. Maybe his taste has changed, it has been 10 years after all, and people change.

The little hand of her daughter woke her up when she pulled her to the window of a toyshop. She moved towards the shop like a hypnotized person. She even allowed her daughter for the first time to go messing around in the toyshop. She could think of nothing but him and how would her life be like if they had a traditional end for their love story.
She remembered how each of them used to love the other secretly, and the day he revealed his love to her. She remember every single detail till the day he asked her to forget all about him cause he was not ready for a serious commitment. She recalled her tears, her broken heart, her sleepless nights… she remembered the pain he caused her and how much she hated him at that time.

How would her life be like if she got married to him 10 years ago? She wondered. She wanted from her heart to turn around to the main gate in search of him, to see him… no, to let him see her… to ask him if this was his wife, if he was happy? Or maybe she wanted him to see her and regret that he didn’t marry her, to see that after 10 years she was still as elegant as she used to be and as young as ever.

She woke up in the middle of her thoughts for the second time by hearing her kid’s voice saying “ok mummy, I’ll take the BRATZ girls”. She walked towards the cashier, paid the money and looked to her little daughter who resembled her father very much. She remembered her husband and how sweet and kind he is. She felt blessed for having him in her life. She blamed herself for thinking of an ex-love while she had such a great love in her life. She felt so much ashamed of herself for such thoughts.

She held her daughter’s hand again and went out of the mall towards the parking area. She drove her car heading to home but unconsciously she went through the CDs in her car and played a song she used to love 10 years ago, their song….

I care not what the world may say,
Without your love there is no day,
So love, this is my song,
Here is a song, a serenade to you.

Posted by Wonderer :: 12:04 AM :: 16 comments

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