I packed and left.
I walk hastily, angrily into the Mercure hotel room I booked for the night, throw my jacket on the bed as the bell boy slowly and neatly places my suitcase near the closet area of my room. My window is big, with an astonishing view looking over most of the new Seef district and some of Manama.
I loosen my tie, unbutton my collar, as I take deep breath. My sweaty palm rests on the window glass. I want to burst with tears; my anger harnesses me.
I never thought our 4-year love affair, that blossomed in the arms of Leeds' cool spring would die in the heat of Deserted Zallaq .
I thought love would conquer all: would conquer her cold British behaviour, my hot-blooded Arab attitude, her penchant for unlimited freedom, my natural urge to tame my stubborn Thoroughbred.
The city is so big before my eyes, yet too small to take in my frustration.
Should've listened to Mama Thajba, who told me upon confiding her with my wish to Marry Liz: "7lat elthoub rig3itah minna o feeh!", she said as her henna-capped finger tips handed me a cup of cardamommed arabic coffee.
...Only a Bahraini woman can complete a Bahraini man.
I was blinded by the bright rays of love, so blinded my brain couldn't alert me, for so many bumps were on the way.
I guess my degree in Risk management did me no good with this case.
My blackberry beeps, breaking the silence of my dim-let room.
It's her, my Lizzy...
I don't want to answer this time.
I'll never answer.
Pizza love
I hurry my way to the parking lot, hoping to dislodge the heavy-weight munchies and goodies crammed in my shopping bags, they slip from my iron fist clasping their handles, I struggle to keep them under my ultimate control.
I hope I'm at my friend's place just in time for the match, It's Spain vs. England, a rivaly too exciting to miss.
As I fidget my fingertips around the contents of my roomy handbag in search for the car keys, I lift my sight to the crystal-clear glass window of the pistro in front of me.
Right at the back corner of the deserted restaurant, two old love birds exchange long stares at each others' eyes, the way they hold hands radiates warmth. The man takes a slice of pizza, holds it's cheese-filled crust and directs the pointy tip towards the woman's mouth, gently pushing it through her thin, fine-wrinkled lips. She smiles as she bites a tiny bit of the tip, ravishing the mediterranean mix of feta cheese, sprinkled with some sun dried tomatoes and decorated with kalamata olives.
The man gleams with happiness as his other half savours in the little bite of pizza.
Lucky they, I murmur under my breath.
Arabian Delight
I made sure my Escada Desire Me perfume would waft as my abaya trailed me. I left the fitting room, an arm full of new threads to be purchased, the other tired of a burden called my new Anya Hindmarch handbag.
Strolling to the cashier, the Escada perfume I generously showered in was replaced with that of a spicy, woody, oud scent... too manly to be ignored.
Thank God for YSL.
The cloud of scent moved closer...
I was lost in dream of warm sunsets, of rays of the orange sun piercing through the sheer veils sealing my tent... My lover hypnotising me with oud-kissed sinlets... Our laughter rattles the tent as our eyelashes tangle, weaving eternal love and pure joy.
My lips curled in a develish smile as I twisted my craned neck over my shoulder...only to glimpse a figure wrapped in Arabic whitness strutting towards the exit.
He left...but his scent shall inhibit me forever...
I want him...
A few inches, or a couple of feet, it doesn’t matter; I just want him taller than me.
I want him, a river of caramel, oozing with sugar, hypnotizing with its slow, rhythmic, lingering dance…
I want him a Libra, a Taurus, an Aquarius, and a Scorpio…
A lethal combination, that's how I want him...
When we sway in the moonlight, I want his champagne to drown my ears… his fingertips to trace every high and low; my skin is fire- insatiable, always asking for more of his cologne, more of his scent, more of his deep, warm breath as his whispers drape my neck…
His hand clinch my coy waist, his eyes douse mine with opium, Oh opium!!!
I leave the dance floor…always asking for more.
I want him a knight so aware of the skill of his sword, a commander so authoritative, so proud of his triumphant fleets, as they tear down all my walls of silence, all my forts of womanly reluctance.
I want him to be man enough to embrace my madness, my tears, my passion, and my thirsty love.
Like coffee that cuddles a sugar cube, I want him to let me commit suicide, in the dark seas of his eyes… eyes so strong, so pure, so raw…
Matters of the heart
"So every time you hold me, hold me like this is the last time..."
Alicia Keys sang as Najla pinned up her hair in a chic bun... she was anxious... the moment she has been waiting for has finally come...
She picked a Silky Hermes scarf and wrapped her up-do, its shades of pink and off-white accentuated the darkness of her stray, fine hair strands.
"How many really...really know what love is?"
It was 10:07 already, his plane was supposed to arrive at least half an hour ago. Her heart throbbed harder as the seconds passed.
She ran downstairs to have a final check on the fancy meatloaf she has been trying to perfect even since Humood was gone. You see, Humood is a financial advisor and his clients were many banks that seem to need his brains more than anything in these dire times.
She straightened the unwrinkled table cloth, made sure all silverware and crystals were spick and span... she worried too much, but this time she ought to.
It wasn't usual of Humood not to be punctual or to not to call whenever he was stalled.
The hands of her Longines watch told it was 11:00. Jada, her Filipino made, asked for permission to go to sleep; it was getting late and she had heaps of work to do the next morning.
"What if something bad happenned to him?"
Her marble-soft cheeks were now covered with streams of smearing eyeliner. Rotana Aghani was on the LCD screen before her, and did a bad job calming her down.
"اون ورياح الليالي توني "
She breathed harder as she fought the urge to cry... The lyrics were daggers stabbing her slowly...
"الوقت جاير والليالي اسهرني... والحزن ما بين الضلوع متلاوي "
The phone finally rang, interrupting Abdu's sorrowful voice...it was Humood..
Najla: Hiiiii!!!
Humood: ahlain..
Najla: (interrupted) b3d 3omri! why aren't you home yet! ga3da a7ateek!
Humood: I'm at Doha airport right now and my flight was delayed, I'll be flying home tomorrow.
Ask Najeeb (the driver) to pick me up at 6 a.m.
Najla: okaaay(in a playful, sing-song tone)...miss you tara...
Humood: gotta go...bye.
She lay in her bed, her cold satin negligee hugging her warm, albeit lifeless body.
Does he miss me as much as I miss him?
Alicia Keys sang as Najla pinned up her hair in a chic bun... she was anxious... the moment she has been waiting for has finally come...
She picked a Silky Hermes scarf and wrapped her up-do, its shades of pink and off-white accentuated the darkness of her stray, fine hair strands.
"How many really...really know what love is?"
It was 10:07 already, his plane was supposed to arrive at least half an hour ago. Her heart throbbed harder as the seconds passed.
She ran downstairs to have a final check on the fancy meatloaf she has been trying to perfect even since Humood was gone. You see, Humood is a financial advisor and his clients were many banks that seem to need his brains more than anything in these dire times.
She straightened the unwrinkled table cloth, made sure all silverware and crystals were spick and span... she worried too much, but this time she ought to.
It wasn't usual of Humood not to be punctual or to not to call whenever he was stalled.
The hands of her Longines watch told it was 11:00. Jada, her Filipino made, asked for permission to go to sleep; it was getting late and she had heaps of work to do the next morning.
"What if something bad happenned to him?"
Her marble-soft cheeks were now covered with streams of smearing eyeliner. Rotana Aghani was on the LCD screen before her, and did a bad job calming her down.
"اون ورياح الليالي توني "
She breathed harder as she fought the urge to cry... The lyrics were daggers stabbing her slowly...
"الوقت جاير والليالي اسهرني... والحزن ما بين الضلوع متلاوي "
The phone finally rang, interrupting Abdu's sorrowful voice...it was Humood..
Najla: Hiiiii!!!
Humood: ahlain..
Najla: (interrupted) b3d 3omri! why aren't you home yet! ga3da a7ateek!
Humood: I'm at Doha airport right now and my flight was delayed, I'll be flying home tomorrow.
Ask Najeeb (the driver) to pick me up at 6 a.m.
Najla: okaaay(in a playful, sing-song tone)...miss you tara...
Humood: gotta go...bye.
She lay in her bed, her cold satin negligee hugging her warm, albeit lifeless body.
Does he miss me as much as I miss him?
Cannellonni melanchony
His crisp white linen shirt was damp against the chiseled manly chest of his, as he entered the semi-packed Italian restaurant.
Ushered to his seat, He gently patted his dewy forehead…the sun was unmerciful that day.
I wondered if he was a Scorpio; he must be, a man with a pair of those dark, mystifying pupils that seemed to pierce the menu he was browsing… with hurry… or maybe with just raw, rugged masculinity that inhibited his long fingers.
I tried to steal a few glimpses of the masterpiece-on-feet sitting before me. My chuncky bangles rattled as my hand slipped my Miu Miu sunglasses on, to offer me some comfort while savoring in my dish of Chicken cannelloni.
His smile to the waitress tenderly parted his raspberry lips, only to expose two lines of meticulously arranged teeth…Where those teeth real? Genuine? God-gifted? Or simply pop-on veneers that would conceal probable ugliness, probable incompetence, per se? Was he as real as those teeth were?
“A man like that can’t be ugly…”
He delved into his rather saucy dish of sun-dried tomato and basil pasta. His face oozed with delight after every bite.
It was easy to notice that behind his scrupulously shaped beard was a baby seeking joy at every occasion… His sculpted roman features enveloped a true, pure spirit, an aura that beamed, contouring his halo…..
That or I’m just playing shrink today…
A sheepish smile caressed his blushed cheeks, as he realized the darkness of his beard was tainted by a contrasting stark white stain of sauce…
I couldn't get enough of my cannelloni that day…
Ushered to his seat, He gently patted his dewy forehead…the sun was unmerciful that day.
I wondered if he was a Scorpio; he must be, a man with a pair of those dark, mystifying pupils that seemed to pierce the menu he was browsing… with hurry… or maybe with just raw, rugged masculinity that inhibited his long fingers.
I tried to steal a few glimpses of the masterpiece-on-feet sitting before me. My chuncky bangles rattled as my hand slipped my Miu Miu sunglasses on, to offer me some comfort while savoring in my dish of Chicken cannelloni.
His smile to the waitress tenderly parted his raspberry lips, only to expose two lines of meticulously arranged teeth…Where those teeth real? Genuine? God-gifted? Or simply pop-on veneers that would conceal probable ugliness, probable incompetence, per se? Was he as real as those teeth were?
“A man like that can’t be ugly…”
He delved into his rather saucy dish of sun-dried tomato and basil pasta. His face oozed with delight after every bite.
It was easy to notice that behind his scrupulously shaped beard was a baby seeking joy at every occasion… His sculpted roman features enveloped a true, pure spirit, an aura that beamed, contouring his halo…..
That or I’m just playing shrink today…
A sheepish smile caressed his blushed cheeks, as he realized the darkness of his beard was tainted by a contrasting stark white stain of sauce…
I couldn't get enough of my cannelloni that day…
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