It is Sunday, the fun day. The holy day. A day to rest and reset. A day to spend with one’s family and the beloved ones. Or yourself. Your true self which lies hidden behind the curtains.
Another day to be grateful for the breath you take, for walking in these beautiful and peaceful streets of ours. A blissfulness abundant in the smell of the linden tree. Linden smells so genuinely in Romania. You can smell and feel its freshness. Dance your way towards your Sunday desires… What a blessed day!
At the Bank, Bucharest, 2018
It is spring, one of our most beautiful seasons. The one of a kind magnolias are in the bloom. A spectacle to the eye
captured in the paintings of the living nature. The view of the whitely pinkish magnolias accompanies me on my way to the bank.
The sun caresses the top of my head, warming my spirits. Now I have had the boosting stroke for the whole day.
“Good day! Are you available?”
“Oh yes. Please have a sit.”
“How are you today, madame?”
“I am very fine. Thank you. And you?”
“I am fine. Thank you, madame. How can I help you?”
Meanwhile, I remove my sunglasses. I had forgotten to remove them.
“Ah, it’s you? Madame, I am sorry I didn’t recognize you.
You look so much differently, with these black glasses with golden edges.“
“Please excuse me. I walked in absent-mindedly. I had magnolias on my mind. So I have forgotten to remove them,” I replied.
“And the makeup also. I guess you have highlighted your eyes today.”
The bank teller spoke from the chest. It wasn’t marketing. Little did she know how much joy she had brought to the chambers of my soul. What can it be more beautiful than be remembered and genuinely admired? Especially when you have been invisible for so long.
“Thank you. You are kind. I would like an over-all account statement. Also, it would be great if you ran up a simulation for a loan.”
The gentile bank-teller prepares the account statement and after handing me the papers she tells me there is a form she has to fill in for the simulation.
“Your civil status?”
“Wow. I didn’t know the divorce was possible in the Arab world.”
“Well, of course, it is not viewed with good eyes. It is not much accepted. And yet, times have changed. Besides my ex-husband was a Turk, not an Arab. At the core, I am an Oriental woman even though I am also Romanian."
“I am fascinated by the Arab world. I feel drawn to its mysterious veils and its fascinating stories of 1001 nights,” the bank teller went on.
“Indeed. The Middle East shall captivate us in its rapture forever. It has its unique spell: The depth of the heart. For it’s in the drawers of the soulful heart that the utmost wisdom lies: Love, the source of life.”
This woman is fascinating. God, I am grateful for this morning encounter. She’s lost in her myriads of thoughts imagining the enigmatical veils of the Orient. What a sweetheart! And while envisaging them, she recounts the variety of images which unfold to her eyes.
“Hometown Damascus…,” and she goes on filling the online form.
“Yes indeed. Dimashq, my dearest hometown. And I feel so very blessed. You see we had an amazing childhood. We used to play and laugh caressed by the sun whilst now the children in there are deprived of it, of the very right to existence,” I added.
“Madame, I am a mom of two. I cannot tell you how painful it was for me to see all those horrible images they broadcast on TV. I think of my own children and I cannot bear the thought of that catastrophe“, her eyes are almost in tears. The blood flushes to her face. She feels every single syllable she utters. And I am so touched by her sensitiveness.
“I am sorry I got so emotional,” she continued after a short pause.
“No, it is OK. Actually, I am very glad we talked.” (Lady, you’ve made my day!)
“Here you have the loan simulation. And I will put all the documents in one envelope, madame.”
“Thank you so much for this delightful conversation and of course, for the documents. I will think of the scheme you have presented me, and inshallah, I will come back.” I replied and exit the bank.
I was reading the news on the internet and all of the sudden the picture of two angels, two Syrian children with burnt faces “came along” with the title that informed they were to be treated in Los Angeles for severe burns caused by an acid attack in Syria. By God, how on earth are you allowing for this to happen you “men of the cave”? Aren’t you chocking in your primitivism?
If only this would remain a "scarface". And yet, it is much more than that. It’s a heartburn. And it burns like hell. It burns the mind, the soul and any trace of humanity that is left.
Those two children with the "face-off" are a living proof of the scarcity of humanity. No child and no human being should be subject to such an inferno, for Rabna Ta3ala, our Dearest God has allowed for us all human beings to have enough resources for everything we could desire. Why kill other human beings in the 3rdmilennium? Why apply acid on a human being?
Photo Credit: Pinterest