Hibo Posted May 2, 2002 Read this piece of idylic piece of Somali Lit Written around 7 months ago. ---- I had received a telephone call from a friend of mine named Gerard London in London. He after having a lengthy conversation, he suggested since I have finished my exams to come down to London. Though I have already planned to go to London, I curiously enquired why is he particularly want me to come down to London. To my not surprise at all, he said; There is a an Art exhibition at Grosvenor House Hotel and it would be exciting, there will be lots of chicks “ he is very versed in the department of slang”, I said with a hesitant voice okay, I will be in London in 4 hours. I shall call you when I arrive. My train to London arrived at Euston Station 8:40pm. As soon as I was out of the station I reached for my “inconveniently big and dull looking” mobile and tried to call a friend of mine who lived close to the station. But as usual to a worn-out One 2 One mobiles there was no signal, consequently I headed to where the more traditional BT phone were. I have telephoned my friend “ this friend is one of the most eccentric none Somali people I know, he does not answer unless he knows who is calling – this he determines from the screen of the his land-phone- the telephone rang couple times, and then it went to this cheesy phone msg; I shouted Amir it is me pick up the phone; he picked up and said hi, where are you? I said I am outside the station. He collected me and went for a Shiisha at Al-Dar Café in Edgware Road, London, where I spend most of the night. The morning came, Amir went out – told me he was going to have a lunch with his fiancée “ I do not know why on earth he is getting married he is just graduated from university” at the Café the Na’na at kings Road-. I just went to do the usual things you know, having a shower and so-forth. Around 3pm my mobile –with it is ridiculously itchy tone ring- rang it was Gerard. Hey where are you? – What a natural of him to ask that question without asking whether I arrived London safely or not, then again it was Gerard I thought to myself- I told him that I am Amir’s Flat, he said be ready at 5pm and should be collecting you from the flat – I was quite bewildered since he didn’t ask me the Address of the flat. Him and Amir don’t get along, Amir, says he is arrogant English aristocrat “wanna be” (in fact he is middle class and Amir fails to differentiate between the Upper middle classes and Blue-blooded). And for Gerard Amir, is un-analysed product of rich Gulf state, both of their contention are not far from the truth”. I asked do you know the flat? He laughed and said I will tell all about it later and he hanged up on me. I switched the television on, and went to Dubai channel where there is a rather comical program called Al-kamara Khafiyah “ the hidden camera” -where subjects are the common public and a person from the program does some sort of acts upon them that are quite laughable- after approximately 5 minutes the home number rang; I thought shall I answer or shall I not; I reasoned with myself; I said Amir and I known each other since childhood “ we went secondary school in Dubai” we practically did everything together so this qualifies me to answer the phone, and there it was the other voice said come on, even-though that is the case it is not good reason to answer his phone besides things changed you both mature people now “ he is more matured since he decided he can take the gigantic responsibility of Marriage”, anyhow at last I answered ; guess who, it was Gerard, he said hi how are? How was your journey to London? I was flabbergasted; I said it was fine, but haven’t you spoken to me a minutes a go; he said yeah but …. I said listen pal, what is it? He said wanted to tell you that this place we are going to is quite posh so, you know…? I said, no I don’t; why don’t you tell me? He said, there are going to be nice looking girls so we should look presentable. I laughed loudly and I will don’t worry. He said one more thing leave that mobile of yours at home will you? I said no I couldn’t do that because this is for communication not for style. He said whatever, and hanged up. I dressed up for the occasion “ I am not going to bore you with my attire” he arrived 5pm sharp. I came out and there he was with driving His Father’s convertible Aston Martin. I said, woow you sure are ready for an action Gerard!!. Drove off and arrived the Hotel. It was quite a lavish welcome. We went right to the exhibition inside the big hall I saw a remarkable looking young Somali girl. She was around 22 years of age, umbrella in hand smiling with an oversized English man around late 30s. She was beautiful, in fact more beautiful. Not like a cover girl or a model or an actress, but like a bright strong wonderful woman that actresses play in their movie roles. There was no glossy sheen to her beauty but an intense inner shine. She sparkled with the light in the soul, you can see she was careless about her looks with her not extremely groomed hair, and lack of make up. She had a kind face with huge very brown ayes that you almost my mistake with hazel mixed with green, there was something slightly Spanish in her look or something that is strange but “what the English men would call” exotic. You can guess that she was sort of intelligent and erudite young girl “ may be this I have guessed her presence in this place where most of the people are public school educated *including Gerard who is old Etonian boy*” and also you could think that she drives an old English sports car the triumph. When I first came to England, the school that I went was popular to have stills from films as posters. There was one from Greek film that I’d seen in girl’s room ( don’t ask me what I was doing in the girl’s room) of a man kneeling on a platform as this beautiful girl got on to train. This girl was one that mostly resembled this Somali girl I am now gazing at. The film’s directors thought it is wholly plausible that a man on his knees would spontaneously suppose as the she set off for a new life, or went to the Tesco, or wherever she was going; and they were right. The actor meant to be projecting pure romantic love “ something my nature defies”. I knew he was saying something along the lines of take me, marry me or something like that; mind you he might me gay not be capable of feeling those things. In sense, there isn’t much point in this description at all. The true beauty is an art from in itself and words are only an interpretation of it, like a picture, book, and a film or worse film from a book. Still I suppose it gives an idea. If Ismail Mirre (the great Somali poet) this young lady he would undoubtedly have said something along the lines of “ her lips were like the red coral and her posture were like that of the Horse Hiinfiniin” and there was some truth in that, she had a beautiful pallor to her, you can imagine that she would easily absorb the sun shine. But to me the image of her seemed like repository for dreams- where fantasy is made flesh. She had an air of sophistication and vulnerability. She seemed of bearing every paradox men ask women, this was magnified thousand times by her air of innocence. Adam, a friend of mine once said to a girl the voice of her ayes seemed deeper than any rose he had seen. She’d asked him if he’d thought of that himself, and he said of course he’d. That is funny, so did e.e. Cummings she said, which understandably left him muted for the rest of the date. But that was how this girl appeared to me. I walked to her direction and looked into her ayes without her noticing me and saw the end of the quest, the end of trudging reluctantly to parties, private bars. I saw the days by the sea, the nights by the fire, the car breaking down next to a beautiful chateau- all the glorious clichés of romance. Here was a girl to grow old with. I was not sure I was entirely ready for marriage and children, but for her I would try anything. - Do I sound desperately despairing? May be, but this girl is beyond imagination. Our future together was clear, I would propose to her at the station “ like the photograph; remember ”, prove myself to her tyrannical father by some wild act of bravery, be separated from her for years of war and return to find her holding my picture with more beautiful then I had left her. She would get a terrible disease and doctors would say there is no cure, but I would not give up, so I would go to Japan and speak to a young geneticist where he tells me there is a hope; around 20% if she tries this controversial medicament, I would get that and apply it and for the sake of love she would be cured. “ I shouldn’t go on or should I, let me get to the point”. I said to my fellow Gerard, there is a stunning girl, and he says yeah that Syrian looking, and said yeah but no She is Somali. He confusedly said she does not look the typical Somali girl; trust me she is I assured. We argued as to how I know she is Somali …… anyway, there she was looking at this 18th century piece of painting by “ I can not remember the painter since I am not fanatic about painting- you may ask why! But the answer lies in the first paragraph of the story”, I walked towards her, and then I realised that I am thirsty. I walked to the where the drinks are and Got Orange juice, one glass for that sumptuous lady, the other for I. I came walking majestically towards her and I came next to her, and said what a marvellous piece of art. She said, yes, do you like it and now she glanced and said oow are you Somali? And smiled and said I hope I didn’t give you a heart attack; she smiled and said no I am quite fit, I don’t think I would get that disease. I offered the drink and she thanked me quite distinguishably. She said, so are you interested in Art? , indeed, but different kind of Art; not paintings I replied, She smiled. In this time I didn’t know what the smile was for, I was not sure whether she got the joke or not. So, what do you do for a living? I asked, she said she worked for a PR company and she was PPE graduate from Trinity College, Oxford, “ the course I have applied but rejected from chirst church college, Oxford, though I was not rejected the grounds of academia, I still felt shoddy” I said impressive. She played the modesty card of what do you mean. . It is quite a very competitive course, and difficult to get into I replied. So, how about you. I am Law student at Warwick I said in shy way “ I always felt shy towards girls who does this particular degree at that University, though Warwick has a better Law school than oxford”. She said, Oow I see, “ this oow thing was vitriolic for my liking” Warwick Law school is excellent she assured me. Anyway, we had casual conversation about the environment “ she is a very environmentalist” Through the conversation I knew this girl has a very outstanding chance of being a successful candidate of being my friend. Anyway, the crucial question needed to be asked; and I was about to when my friend Gerard came over and said aren’t you going to introduce me to your new found friend Farah. I said, yes of course, this is my infamous friend Gerard and this is… and that was when I grasped that I hadn’t learned her name, thus it was the time to ask. Before I had done than, she extended her right hand towards Gerard and said my name is BASRA, Mine is Gerard he said. Very posh name I would have thought she exclaimed. He said, sort of yeah, but I am not snob. I laughed, you, not being snob! And she intervened and said if he is snob then what might you be dear; there and then I was astounded with this premise of hers, and said I would be mr “ and I told her my real name” Farah the corrector; she smiled. And Gerard left by saying oow, I need to get drink anyone for a drink I said thanks but No Gerard!. She was enchanting, witty, and most of all aesthetically desirable. She looked at her watch and said oow I need to get going, it has been nice to meeting you, I would love to stay but I have a dinner party to attend. I said, okay I hope this isn’t a good bye. This is my card, she gave me a golden card written her work telephone number; and said I see no private line; she said let me test your memory this is my mobile number and she said something like 0793287290267 I have memorised easily cause the first 6 numbers were like one of my friend’s Number. After she had left the hotel; I was in very unexplainable- a mood that perplexed Gerard-. I hasty turn and looked around to find Gerard but as periodic for this kind of places he was not where to be found. In an attempt to sit down and contemplate what the future holds- though I know that it seems quite diabolical to ponder as to how I can formulate a Machiavellian plan to win a lady who is already taken (under ordinary circumstances this thought would never cross my mind, but this was far from normal situation; it is Basra) by a fellow male-. Future, I feel is not the right word. I tried to find a seat where I can sit and clear my thought. I knew that I have the intent to protrude mentally from this place, but tried to stay there both physical and mental wise. I felt the soothing classical music of that artist " I am not familiar with the un-familiar non English name's that most of Composers have". I made a mental note that I will be clam and enjoy the night out - the problem of mental notes when you are intoxicated with tenderness and warmth of person like Basra; after few seconds the notepaper becomes soaked with the sweat of uneasiness, consequently after seconds you won't able to read the note-. Gerard appeared from far with the company of two beautiful girls- mind you, I use to fancy any girl that is little bit above mediocre, though these girls were what the English tabloid would call stunningly sizzling; I was not up for any chit chat that may lead to…….- I said; here he comes try to be conversational. Gerard who knows me far better I know myself- yeah what cliché, but really do we know ourselves? This is question that puzzled me since I came to the philosophical scene, you know what they say, friends are your true mirrors (this just came to my mind, hope to register it at the Oxford Book of Quotations)- he sensed that I was not quite in the mood of chatting girls up. He is a quite tactical man, very conscious and indisputably confident - and they say Public school is not worth the money, clearly that is contrary to Gerard’s behaviour, Gerard is a product of Eton Boarding school, the most ostentatious school in Europe-. Politely, he left the ladies one of contemporary piece of art and hurriedly came to me and asked the ever conundrum question: What is wrong Farah? . I humbly without any attempt to outsmart him said, I think she is the one- though I have never confessed there was such think in my philosophy, this is clearly a divulgence of the fact that she was something. He smirked in the most nefarious way of a grin I have ever seen " I once been told by my father not use the word ever since I have yet to see lots of things; in the other hand just being turned 23 means am a mere young man"- though it is tempting to utilise it anyhow-. I said, you were suppose to be blissful and happy for me; that is what the true friends are for - I have always thought friendship with the infidels " sorry Gerard, but religion is religion, there nothing I can do about it, but there is something you can do: embrace Islam and we would be real siblings" is something charade most definitely façade- Anyway, with lots of thinks happening in the same period within my mental faculties, I thought to myself that I would be company with my fellow friend, and asked whether I can leave without him. To my amazement he said; okay let us go out of this place. We left the two girls, Alice and Dawn- Both have equally staggering body, and they worked for PR company, as he Gerard told after couple days- Gerard explained subtly - due my unsound behaviour- he said quietly, he is taken by a girl he has just met. What a pity he would have been a good shag - I was sipping coke from the can in the most Somali way, and I choked because of that explicit word- I came to the conversation and said furiously, what do you take me lady? I am not that kind. What kind she enquired. The kind who shags any women who comes to his road, in fact I don’t shag. I am not certainly that kind, I am sorry to bust your…… Anyway, I came home, went to bed; and all these beautiful things came to mind. Basra; in colouration she is like the first egg of the ostrich---white, mixed with yellow. Unadulterated water, chaste by the descent of many people in it, has nourished her. A perfect head of hair which, when loosened, adorns her back, Black, very dark-coloured, thick like a date-cluster on a heavily laden date-tree. She is…….. She meets me with a slim waist, slender as the twisted waist of that Hin-finin. Her form is like the stalk of a date-tree bending over from the heaviness of its edible pulpy mass. She displays a neck like the collar of a semi-transparent deer. It is neither disproportionate when she raises it, nor unmoved…. As many poets said her beauty cannot be defined in mere words, she is like… Having finished the exams and being London means that I have a plenty time in my hands. I had plans to visit my younger brother who resides in a very small city called new heaven in the US where he reads some bore Science degree. But the thought of going of the US without having a clear idea as to where I stand in regards with Basra was stupendously excruciating. I thought to myself, get a grip Farah and do what you have to do. I wake up in the morning about 9am and done the tedious routine stuff at the flat " I am still staying with my friend Amir". There was this book I always wanted to read, but didn't have the courage of sitting down with notoriously un-readable book - the discourses on Levy, by Machiavelli-. I sat down with an antediluvian armchair that was situated in the middle of the living room. As I was enjoying the reading my mobile rang. It was a dear friend of mind named Russell Miah- Russell is trainee Barrister at LOVELL WHITE DURRANT law firm in Holborn and a fellow of the Lincolns Inn. He is a quite of a character. Though he is disreputable with long dull philosophical discourses " this is because he read Economics with Philosophy at London school of Economics" he tries to behave in a the most common manner when with the company of strangers.- After the usual chit chat of how are u…. he said, what are you doing today?. I said, I was going to stay in and read that boring commentaries on Livy, but if you have an enchanting alternative to this then I would be all yours. I am off today, so I thought I might link up with you to discuss certain things with you - whenever Russell says he has problem; the problem turns out to be girl problem; and this is a frequent thing. Russell is one of the most peculiar characters I know with my circle of friends. As once described by fellow friend called Emdad; Russell is non-practising heterosexual. And that is where the problem stems from in regard to the females- I said, okay- I thought, which one in more tedious listening to a long moaning or reading this beguile book, the option was clear, I reasoned, come on, it would be fun to see a person who shares with a similar problem, mind you this is not the case because of the above reasons- where should we meet. He suggested that I should come to his place around 12 and we would go for tennis and then for Lunch. I said, that sounds great, but there is a slight problem, I have not racket; don't you worry about that, I shall lend you one. That is done then; see you in couple hours. I went back to the armchair - I have a habit of walking around when speaking on the phone- in attempt to proceed reading, but thought, no let me just see what is on the Television. I went to the channel 5 and there was the right stuff with Matthew wright, and two other people- Right stuff is Tabloid television program that deals with different issues a day in the most casual manner. If you have anything to say about the issue at hand you give them a call- that the discussion was circling around on the subject of (if you fancy someone how would you go about and tell them without scaring them away). I thought, this is good, let me call them- mind you Basra already knew as to how I felt, don't get me wrong I didn't told her that I fancied her in words but come on the body language was already there- I have telephoned them, and as you would not expect from such program I was through to a lady who was co-ordinator. I told my problem in brief and she said, be ready in 3 minutes we would call you back. I waited in the most… .. way, the telephone rang and there I was on the Television, Hi there Mr Adam " that is the fake name I have used, not to offend any fellow Muslims with my disgrace info" , what is the problem he uttered; Mathew h r u, I am tip top he replied. I told what the problem was - of course not the whole thing- and James O'Brien; hi there Adam this is James here, you are in dilemma that I went through while at University . I was glad that there was a person who once had the same problem. He suggested various ideas, but none of them seemed to be applicable to my situation- this is I have held some of the background information, though I have let know where and when I have met the lady-. Taking the tube is the most loathsome things I dislike about London, men with depraved perfumes, and ladies with over-used perfumes comes out an odour that is beyond the…..! After 7 minutes or so, my destination was reached. Russell lives in one bed-roam flat at the hart of Gloucester Road, Chelsea, London. A place that is full of beautiful people that one would think are made in Elysian Fields; trendy Bars and Cafés. I walked about 6 minutes from the station and walked past young couples hand in hand, enjoying the beginnings of what might " for me" sonorous/ melancholy summer depends on the out come of this affair. At last I reached his building- the building resembles the building of that witless Ally Mcbeal- it has touch American yet there is something very English or Elizabethan about it. I rung the door, and there was a security man.- The security guy was a black man, early thirties, with a heavy Northern Accent, I thought to myself what a nice combination; the guard I beg your pardon? I have realised that I thought loudly, and replied, sorry I was talking to myself. - He asked where I was heading to and I told him, I going to No; 23 he called and Russell came down to collect me from the place. His flat was absolutely spotless. That is another thing. This cleanness is not common in the young professional men regardless of their class status. Nice place you have got here- a comment I thought was utterly stupid, cause I spent couple days in his flat last Easter- He looked at me like he was saying are you okay my friend, you have been here before why the sudden comment. He fetched a tea, while I went to the balcony to enjoy the sunny day. After seconds, my Mobile rang, I didn't know who was calling at this time of the day. -One of the positive things of having a recent mobile is that is will display the caller's number, clearly mine was not able to do so since it is…- I said, hello there, how may I help in very joking manner. It was sweet voice that is was not strange to me, I said, hi, how are you. She said, I am very well indeed and proceeded are you still in London?. Who is this, I uttered without realising who I was talking to. Oow, you have forgotten me already, who charming of you sire. The “Oow” was give away, and I said, this sweet voice cannot be disremembered dear, how are you Basra? She smiled, and I imagined her voluptuous lips widening a bit to allow that Epicurean smile to come to the arena. I am doing great, are you in London she enquired? Indeed I am. How is your day at the work today so far? I am not working Farah, I am off today, called in sick. I am sorry what is the matter? I said in the most sensitive voice I could come up with. It is fate she replied with little smile; that is the matter. I was puzzled, couldn't grasp what she is on about- this is rare in my situation, I am one of those people who think quickly, my mind is faster than Ferrari or any other sports car for this matter, but here I was Basra made a comment fairly easy to understand " I have discovered it was easy after a while, when she told me what she meant"- Fate I gasped, like a young novice being given his first lesson as the swimming pool. Yeah fate, she continued by saying that was very moving. I was still in the dark, not understanding what she is talking about It would be easy if you speak to me like a child who understands only the simple language; I said seeking a refuge in her capable mind. I saw the program a while ago, You are so sweet Farah she said. My heart was panting like I was running from a she lion that her cobs " children" killed by men who seek pleasure of killing young lions. I was melting like the ice of the Antarctica because of the effect of global warming. I was tempted to use that silly cliché it is easy to be sweat when dealing with honey, then I thought Farah come that is so cheesy, be original. Speechless as I was, I tried fervently to reply spontaneously; but to no avail. Oow really, so what do you think of it- this is trick I have learnt from another friend called Francis; he is one of those who question girls without answering their question, hence he tries to outsmart them. Here, I took my chance like a gambler with his last resort; trying to reclaim the fortune he had lost by playing with his wedding ring with the knowledge that he is playing that of who roped from his wealth. -To my surprise, she said, it was lovely, I didn't know you guys were that emotional. Here the subtitle of the message is; Somali men are not emotional orientated who display their emotional capacities to their loved/liked one’s-; I see, so I take it that is good thing I retorted. I said something opaque and extraordinarily enough she laughed; though not in a laughing humour, you have made me laugh Farah. For I can not help thinking that the many when they hear your words will say truly you have described yourself in very peculiar but transparent manner - notice the irony here-. They might be right I said with the exception of words "very peculiar but transparent". You know what I mean said Basra with little glamour of her comely smile. To be sure, I replied, with the separation of those two adjectives; things would be clear?. Would you not say that would be the case? Be that as it may, and continued to say, so why do you feel the way you feel Farah, you have met me once and spoke to you on the phone in casual manner in about 3 or four times. And now you go on national television and profess who much you love me; woow, hold it right there, I haven't used the word love, neither any word that indicates so. Technicalities, words, you know and I know what you have said; can we put English words aside and discuss the emotional ties said Basra in the most confident voice any can girl have; I laughed mildly and said, yeah sure; what emotions are we talking about here. If you are asking, whether I like you or not; then I am sure you know the answer to that if asking more; sorry darling, I do think you are digging hole that the is not gold- here again, I was gambling, I thought; play the tough guy for second, I game that paid off at last- I take it you are home now? She asked; as matter of fact no, I am with a friend of mind now. Ow, Gerrard the posh guy she asked in a curious way; - I thought woow, she remembers his name; what would this indicate?, I thought come off it will you; you are imagining things, besides, gerrard won't go for her; what silly reason I thought to myself loudly- she said; what? I said nothing, I was asked a question about Gerrard from this guy; I see said Basra in not convinced voice. Russell came in and said; who is on the phone; I said, no one, just a friend; Ow is that what I am to you enquired the voice from the telephone?. Just hold on I said; Do you mind Rus, I am on the phone; yes but we have to go in 5 minutes, be quick will you. I said okay; just give me a sec. I can see you are busy right now, how about if we link up tomorrow evening?, I said that would be great if I was already invited by a Party at the Savoy at 8pm. But how about Friday night; at that point; Russell who was the one invited me to the party said; why don't you bring her along on condition she has a good sense of humour and dumb- he is very antifeminist, that is another thing with him. In this certain age, he still holds believes you read from Aristotle's politics- I laughed; uum Basra; would you like to accompany me to this party tomorrow, I asked; there was a good 6 seconds silence and finally said…… Since I am from a modest background- do apply the principle of relativity here, not the physics one but indeed the relativism ideology in philosophy - my friend offered me to borrow his car (silver Audi convertible). Waited as she came striding towards me with a alluringly charming smiles, hello there Adam voiced Basra with tone of pristine resilience- so perfect I nearly felt as though ………………………… CONTINUES ------------------ Illumination is man’s release from his self-incurred Ignorance. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Hibo Posted May 10, 2002 I thought ur illusions were last spotted in Somalinet....didn't know they stretched this far, sophist. lol. My hats off to this piece of lit... very impressive indeed! Is that the sista in the US? Or she is imaginary piece of art? ------------------ Each one of us is a masterpiece in progress Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Hibo Posted May 10, 2002 Hibo, The lady in the story is indeed my perfect representation of my desired lady-I must say that is current sentiment, I may alter my view the years to come. ------------------ Illumination is man’s release from his self-incurred Ignorance. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
