An evening bus trip to Hawalli, with KPTC this time. we walked to the outskirt of Khaldiyah after we knew that buses do not get inside the districts at night. we waited with a carpenter and his assistant in the bus stop. we payed 200 fils for this ride although KPTC is much less in condition than CityBus. It smells like industrial Shuwaikh, but we liked it, and I felt more in a bus than when I was in CityBus. I listened to the bus motion music until it got interrupted with an FM87.9 song from my friend's radio.
-It's my father's.Through Hawalli we walked, passing the streets and listening to stories about Morocco. we were mapping Moroccan streets over Hawalli's until we reached Kushari Juha, we ordered two dishes and started to talk on people we knew and specifically people we hate, I listened, then we stopped
-listen, there is a Quran sound, but it is only the rhythm, the words are not clear.
-a Quran melody.
We went outside to the music shops nearby and were looking for a film for Sherihan when I saw a beautiful cassette cover, and decided to buy it -for the portrait-. I waited for the owner of the shop -because it was guarded by his friend- and I listened. There was a song playing in the shop, and from the cashier computer came Quran reading. They were both playing together.
-why didn't you tell him to close one? asked whom was listening to the story afterwords
-I'm a stranger, why should I order them? It's like forcing a strange thing to be familiar, only magic can do that, otherwise it will appear fake.a young man came in, and I listened.
-do you have a lighter?
-we don't smoke.but the other seller said come in I have one, his friend seemed surprised, so the seller exclaimed,
-I was wandering about the garden and I sat on a chair where I found this lighter on top of this packet (and he showed him how exactly the two elements were positioned).We couldn't find the film, so we went off to find a route to Khaldiyah. Walking from Kushari Juha along the shopping street of Islamic recordings, continuing the talk about people we hate. It wasn't a pessimist conversation though, it was very beautiful, full of rich terms and amazing relations and reactions and attitudes, we were not analyzing rather than describing, and we were not complaining but rather story telling with changes in tone; detailing a moment and abstracting another.
-is it going to Khaldiyah?
-yes, come come!On the way to my car, we stopped to have some water from a water container shaped like Zamzam water bottles sold in Saudi Arabia. A good bye brief talk and I went back home.
