The
rain spends its full fury as I slither through the fields full of fern.
Even my umbrella's ferrule threatens to free itself from my hand's
grip. I doubt if I (or anyone for that matter) have seen any August
weather like the one we see now. The more I advance under the torrent,
the more sympathetic I get of the fragile ferns. They look too innocent
to experience this macerating stupor the rain is drunk with. Some tall
trees in the drenching orchard have all their branches swaying under the
engagement of the rain bearing winds. That's just how I feel now. My
emotions are swaying out of balance as I crawl on at snail's speed.
Exhaustion of the body and mind set in. That of the body is from my
heavy luggage that provides drag force against my advance. My mind's
weary as an effect of Uncle Bada's actions. Like the beaten fern leaves.
I felt severed from my only family by external forces, and there was no truce in sight. My uncle hadn't faltered from casting aspersions on the attitudes and idiosyncrasies of the affluent. It had surely taken a gruesome toll on my relationship with Aminat. When I told him I was old enough to make my decision to marry her, he laughed sarcastically for ten seconds or so, his laughter changing tone into one of fury. When he was done with his mock show, he forced his burning gaze hard into mine. "Get out. Now! You don't have so many things here, so go out there and make a life for yourself. And marry that scumbag's daughter if you wish." There was carnage alive like burning embers in his eyes. "And Allah knows you don't have my blessings."
He was not toying with words. My lone presence on this orchard that proves thirsty for more heavenly fluid, or rather my Exodus journey now is pragmatic prove for that. I can't reach Aminat on her mobile as my Uncle had slammed my phone hard against the wall two days before. He had spotted me on the shack, talking to her in low tones. He was behind me, so he crept up and snatched the phone from my ears. A shiver sure ran as I turned to look into his angst expression.
"That harlot?"
It pained, like a barb piercing my heart. "She's no harlot. Don't you dare-"
The smash of the phone on the hard ground choked the unsaid words, the ones with real vitriol.
"Be careful, Kabir. I don't want a scene with those bastards."
"Why don't you admit you don't support me because of your pent up anger? That certainly led to the trepidation you show through anger, didn't it? And you're taking it all out on Aminat and I, right?"
He looked sheepishly at me, his hand still leaning on the wooden trebacula. He swore. There was a rod, the one he used for sheperding purposes, in his other arm. He threw it at me. I ducked. And ran too...
I'm under a little shed now, still shivering from the treatment of the two cold areas- my uncle's house and the orchard- as I write this.Worrisome isn't my exorcism from Uncle's house but from his heart. He had let hate govern him. Allah alone knew what Aminat's father had done to sweep any chance of a good opinion under the carpet. Uncle loathed him with unrivalled passion. The coast seemed clear to sweep Aminat into my arms and carry her far, far away. Would that make any sense? What about strained relations between both families? Freedom was almost sure now, at least Aminat never hinted me of her father ever getting in our way. The hanging harangues would be let loose by both parties if my love and I fled. I don't want that to....
My thoughts knotted a veil of sleep over my eyes. Dreamland would be better.
Ara 'deinde
August 20, 2014.
I felt severed from my only family by external forces, and there was no truce in sight. My uncle hadn't faltered from casting aspersions on the attitudes and idiosyncrasies of the affluent. It had surely taken a gruesome toll on my relationship with Aminat. When I told him I was old enough to make my decision to marry her, he laughed sarcastically for ten seconds or so, his laughter changing tone into one of fury. When he was done with his mock show, he forced his burning gaze hard into mine. "Get out. Now! You don't have so many things here, so go out there and make a life for yourself. And marry that scumbag's daughter if you wish." There was carnage alive like burning embers in his eyes. "And Allah knows you don't have my blessings."
He was not toying with words. My lone presence on this orchard that proves thirsty for more heavenly fluid, or rather my Exodus journey now is pragmatic prove for that. I can't reach Aminat on her mobile as my Uncle had slammed my phone hard against the wall two days before. He had spotted me on the shack, talking to her in low tones. He was behind me, so he crept up and snatched the phone from my ears. A shiver sure ran as I turned to look into his angst expression.
"That harlot?"
It pained, like a barb piercing my heart. "She's no harlot. Don't you dare-"
The smash of the phone on the hard ground choked the unsaid words, the ones with real vitriol.
"Be careful, Kabir. I don't want a scene with those bastards."
"Why don't you admit you don't support me because of your pent up anger? That certainly led to the trepidation you show through anger, didn't it? And you're taking it all out on Aminat and I, right?"
He looked sheepishly at me, his hand still leaning on the wooden trebacula. He swore. There was a rod, the one he used for sheperding purposes, in his other arm. He threw it at me. I ducked. And ran too...
I'm under a little shed now, still shivering from the treatment of the two cold areas- my uncle's house and the orchard- as I write this.Worrisome isn't my exorcism from Uncle's house but from his heart. He had let hate govern him. Allah alone knew what Aminat's father had done to sweep any chance of a good opinion under the carpet. Uncle loathed him with unrivalled passion. The coast seemed clear to sweep Aminat into my arms and carry her far, far away. Would that make any sense? What about strained relations between both families? Freedom was almost sure now, at least Aminat never hinted me of her father ever getting in our way. The hanging harangues would be let loose by both parties if my love and I fled. I don't want that to....
My thoughts knotted a veil of sleep over my eyes. Dreamland would be better.
Ara 'deinde
August 20, 2014.
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