Singing Warlus

Things never go as planned

2009-07-20T21:09:00.000-07:00

"Ya shai6ana," I said as I watched Gobgoba type in Zbaide's password to his facebook account. "Where'd you get his password from?"

Gobgoba gave me a sly, devious look and said, "never underestimate me."

"Ok, ok," I said hurriedly. "Go to his friends list."

"Msta3yila 3ala shofat el 7abeb!"

"CHUB!" I flushed slightly. "I'm just curious!"

"Embala," she said sarcastically with a snort. "Ok, this is him."

We both edged towards the screen closer waiting for it to load and we were not disappointed for he had so many pictures. Gobgoba opened up an album. The first picture was of some AC Milan players. The next was also of a player taking a shot at the goal .. The next 10 were also of soccer players.

"Ok we get that he likes AC Milan," Gobgoba mumbled flicking through some more random photos until we stumbled upon a photo of a man sitting in a tent with his hands outstretched above some coal to warm himself. His eyes were pitch black, framed by thick black eyebrows, a sharp nose and a broad crooked grin. Gobgoba let out a low whistle.

"Shda3wa Gobgoba, he's okay," I said blandly lying as I rolled my eyes.

"Yal chathaba!" she exclaimed as she grabbed my face and brought it closer to the screen. "Fech khair 7i6ay 3ainich fe 3ain el 9ura o golay mu 7ilo!"

"Mu 7ilo," came my muffled voice as I ogled at the man in the picture.

"Mo muhim," Gobgoba said letting go of me. "Love is not based on looks alone!"

"Love mara wa7da 3aad!" I said as I sneaked looks at the picture. Gobgoba who just caught me smirked at me folded her hands across her chest. My face flushed and I slammed the laptop shut. Gobgoba raised an eyebrow in a teasing way and if it were possible my face turned a darker shade of red.

"FINE! a3tirif .. he is 7-7ilo! Shwaya bas.." I added. "I mean mafe shay zood bas he's okay ya3ne--"

"Maida!" Gobgoba said interrupting my rambling. "Shut up."

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Three weeks have passed and thankfully the subject of Hamoor was not brought up again. I was so busy with quizzes and upcoming midterms that I didn't even have time to consider the whole idea. That was until my mom came to my room one night.

"Haa Maida ma 5ala9tay?" My mom asked as she sat on the edge of my bed.

"Embala mama," I said as I flicked a page of a book I had in my lap. "Bas ga3da araji3."

"Yala sahalat enshala," she said.

I could tell that there was something she wanted to tell me so I shut my book and looked at her questionably.

"Yuma e7na sa2alna akthar 3an Hamoor Al Flani," she said answering my unasked question.

"Hamor?" I said blankly. I had pushed him so back in my mind that I was surprised when she brought him up.

"Ee shfeech? Ana wboch mo gaylenlich etfakreen eb mawtho3 el zawaj?"

"Yuma men9ijich? Ana ma abi atizawaj!" I exclaimed readying myself for a dispute.

I expected her to argue with me, press the subject more on me but I was taken aback when she simply got up and left my room. I don't know why but a bad feeling slowly crept upon me. I couldn't focus anymore with what was what I was reading so I snapped my book shut, switched off the lights of my room and hid under the covers. But I couldn't sleep that night. I kept tossing and turning on the bed angry with myself. If this was what I wanted, I asked myself, then why was I feeling this way?

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I woke up the next day still with that awful feeling, and if that were not enough my day was full with a series of unfortunate events. The day began with a battle with my wild hair that just refused to be tamed, I arrived late to my quiz which I would guarantee getting an F in it, and I spilled coffee all over my shirt which was why I was back home.

I walked into the living room to find my father watching the news. "Salam."

"Hala fe Mayooda," my dad replied, grabbing the remote and switching the T.V off. "Ta3alay baghait akalmich."

Not surprised at all I plopped down beside my dad on the couch and he put his arm around my shoulder. "Ya benti, tara ana gelt 7ag omich matkalem el nas. Ana adri al7en 3alaich thaq6 wayid eb derastich o abi laman ye9fa thehnich etfakren bel mawtho3 3adil. Tara ohwa weld 7alal shareech, weli methla ma yenrad. Ana ma a'39ibich 3ala shay bas abech etfakren bel mawtho3 zaain. Tara entay al7en kebartay mentay zqera .. ma boga shay o takmlen 22 inshala. Ana abech taw3ideni etfakren bel mawtho3 eb jadiya, haa benti?"

"Bas baba," I said in a small voice. "al7en el zawaj 9ar 9a3ib. Kela mashakil oo sowalif etkhari3 nesma3 3anha."

"Oo kaana ana oo obooch," came my mothers voice from behind us. Apparently she's been eavesdropping. "She7lailnaa sa3edeen o metfahmeen o n7ib ba3ath. Oo shofay banat 5altich merta7en el 7emdila."

"Fine, fine!" I surrendered. I could tell this was a lost battle. "Bas bshar6. You give me all the time I need oo my answer will be final." I looked at my mother in the eye and at that moment the telephone rang.

"Alow," my mom answered in a formal tone. "Ya halla , ya halla eb Om Hamoor."

Speak of the devil! I started to gesture to her with my hands for her to put the conversation on speaker but she gave me a silencing look.

"Walla e7na eb 5air..wentay bashrona 3an a7walkum? el 7eemdila, el 7emdila. Sam7ona Om Hamor adri 6awalna 3alaikum," she said letting out a nervous laugh. "Bas tadreen wagt emti7anat bel jam3a wel bent lail7en etfaker," then my mom went silent, nodding and mmming every now and then. "La ma fee mani3 ya Om Hamor enhum eyt3arfon 3ala ba3ath shwaya .. Bas kahi yame 5aleni ashof meta teftha tadren al7en wagt emt7anat.."

FATHYA!! FATHYA 7AG SHENO!!

My eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. What about our deal we just made moments ago! Had it just fluttered suddenly out of the window! I stood up in front of her shaking my head and waving my arms.

"Yuma Mayda meta 3indich wagt fara'3 3ashan eshofich el walad wetshofena?" My mom asked with a sweet voice.

I just started at her disbelievingly. I looked back at my dad for support but he just mouthed to me not to embarrass her. I could not believe the injustice of it all!

"3ogob bacher esa3a 6," I replied bitterly.

"3ogob bacher el sa3a 6 eynasibkum?" my mom said to Om Hamoor. "5air enshala 3ayal... Ala yej3al feh el 5air...Ma3asalama."

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Gobgoba, Vacuum's and Crying Babys

2009-07-16T19:47:00.000-07:00

Finally , we reached the chalet! I quickly grabbed my Nike bag from the trunk, and dashed inside our beach house.

"3al aqal 9ikay el baab warach!" I heard my mom holler behind me.

"7a9ranaaaa!" I quickly called back the first excuse that came into my mind. I needed to exit the premises immediately! I couldn't risk my parents opening the dangerous subject regarding who shall not be named ..

Dramatic much? To me it's not. I regard marriage as a taboo. Whenever the subject of "marriage" is brought up among my friends their eyes usually glaze up, hug a cushion close to their chest and sigh deeply. No doubt picturing their perfect, romantic life with the perfect spouse. Me however, I see marriage as commitment. Nothing more! Nothing less! A look of terror dawns upon my face as I picture myself donned with an apron, a vacuum in one hand and a wailing child in the other. And of course lets not forget the husband bellowing in the background, "MAAIDAA !! WAIN 3ASHAAAY!!"

I involuntarily shuddered as I plopped down on my bed. No. My answers will defiantly be a no! I reassured myself over and over again that I'm still free as a bird with no strings attached then drifted off to a restless slumber.

"Maida! Maida!" someone hissed in my ear. "maido o yahaad! Gamaaay!"

"5 min o akhali9 el 3asha," I mumbled into my pillow. "5 min plzz."

I groggily opened one eye as I started to distinguish the sound of the person snorting beside me and saw my cousin Gobgoba's face smirking at me. "Gibgibo? Shetsaween hne? esa3a cham?"

"Ehehe," she laughed as she crossed her legs on my bed. "Wa7da wa7da. Awal shay yeet men balakontich as usual. oo el sa3a 6 el 9ob7."

"La waaalaaaaaa," I said in a mockingly happy tone. "Oo shemga3idich ya 7elwaaaaaaa?"

"Ma yatne el --"

Before she knew it, I smacked her with a pillow on her head.

"OO ANA SHAKU FEECH!!" I hissed at her as I pulled the covers over my head. "6e9aay yalla!"

"Alla ya entay 3asraaa awal ma etgomen," said Gobgoba. "Ala ye3en raylich 3alaich."

I opened my eyes wide, pulled the covers off my face and said in menacing tone. "Eyaani weyach etyebeen serat rayli 3ala elsanich!"

She burst into laughter and started teasing me. "Men al7een bedaina en'3aar. Ya Ba5at hal rayeel!"

"Ewwww!" I said scrunching my nose as though I smelled a horrible stench. "Ma7iba ge6ee3a teg6i3a!''

Gobgoba rolled her eyes, used to me verbally bashing my future unknown husband. "enzain yalla yalla gamay the sea is GORGEOUS !"

"Dam feha ba7ar el salfa, I'M UP!" I said jumping out of bed and giving her one more smack with the pillow.

"HEEEEY!" she shrieked. "What was that for!"

"I just felt like it," I shrugged, then shut the bathroom door with a shriek as I saw her hurling the pillow at me.

------

The sun started to set too soon for Gobgoba and I and we unwillingly said goodbye to our friends then headed back inside the beach house as our mothers called us in for dinner. As we moved closer to the door I heard my mom speaking to Gobgoba's mother.

"sheftaay shloon 6a7at flana men el bananna! hahaha I can't stop laughing--"

"Sssssh!!" I said quickly putting my hands over Gobgoba's mouth.

Her eyes looked at me questionably. I simply answered her by putting my hands behind my ears and pointing at the door. Once she heard our mothers voices, she let out a low muffled "mmmm," and nodded in understanding. A pulled my hands away from her mouth and we walked closer to the door, and pushed it slightly so the better we could hear them.

"Ee walla ya Om Nagroor 5osh nas," we heard Gobgoba's mom say. "El kel yanshid 3an sana3hum o 6ebathum."

"Maaa sema3na 3anhum ella kel 5air," my mom said. "bas maido hathi rasha yabis. men fita7nala sera galat la2."

Gobgoba looked at me no doubt wanting an answer but I just ignored her.

"Oo shesim el walad?"

"Waladhum esma hamoor."

"Haw hatha refej weldi Zbaidi!" Gobgoba's mom said excitedly. "Ma ya6ree ela eb kel 5air."

"Maidoo!" Gobgoba said impatiently. "Shsalfa!"

"oooo999!" I said pulling her away from the door. "mafeeh salfa!"

"No!" she said putting her hands on her waist. "SPILL NOW!"

"Fine I will bas let's go to your room! Mabi omahatna yesmi3ona"

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15 minutes later I told Gobgoba about everything.

"Oo bas." I concluded as I gulped down my Pepsi.

"Bas?" she asked.

"Ee getlich maku salfa! Bas ana madri shfeha mama wayid emlazma 3alaih," I groaned.

"Entay shfeech 3al zawaj ya3ne it's not unusual for a 21 year old to get married!"

"Well I DON'T!" I said with a final tone.

"3an el dala3 yala! Ta3alay bas I want to show you something," she said grabbing her laptop.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"Hamoor!" she said with a devilish smile on her face. "Shfaydat my brother's facebook account?"

The begining

2009-07-15T12:16:00.000-07:00

It was a normal Wednesday night, my dad, mom, baby sister and I were on our way to the chalet. My baby sister, Murjana, was sleeping peacefully in my mothers arm, my dad was listening to 3awath al do5i and I was engrossed in a book.

"Yumma, Maida 9ikay ketabich mo zain tegrain bel thalma." My mom said breaking the silence.

"Enzain mama bas hal 9af7a wa9ika!" I said.

"Ya baba," my father said sharply. "omich tabech eb salfa."

I reluctantly shut my book and sat up straight my thoughts still with the characters.

My mom adjusted Murjana in her arms and said, "fee wa7id 5an6bich oo--"

I rolled my eyes, immediately laid back and opened my book. "Mama cham mara agolich mabi atizawaj al7een!"

"Wentay 3ala awiliiich tgoleen mabi!" my mom snapped. "La testa3yilain bel qarar!"

"Mama ana al7en ma afakir bel zawaj ! hatha eltizaam ! wana male 5ilg!" I huffed back, bored with repeating myself everytime this subject came up.

"a9lan ana laman kent kobrich kent 7amil eb o5och Nagroor!"

"El wagt ta'3ayar," I retorted back.

"Oo shno ya3ne ana men qoroon el oowlaa !" she said angrily.

I opened my mouth ready to retort when my dad cut me short. "Om Nagroor, haday nafsich. Wentay maido ! sem3ay kalam omich. e7na ma '3a9abnach wala ra7 en'3a9bich 3al zawaj. Bas e7na nabelich el 5air. 3a6ay el rayal for9a wen ma ba'3ayteeh ma y9eer 5a6rich ela 6ayib."

My face flushed with embarrassment and I listened quietly as my mom started to give me a brief history about this guy.

"Esma Hamoor Al Flani," she said. "Nas ma3rofeen eb a5laghum o eb deenhum oo omaa th.haaba!"

"Ana ba5tha wela ba5ith oma," I mumbled under my brreath. My mom who thankfully didn't hear me kept rambling on, but my dad gave me a look from the rear mirror. I shut my mouth instantly and looked away.

"Ohwa yeshtiqil bel sharika el flaniya .. Oo ma3ana 3omra 27 we9al man9ib mashala 3alaih. Rayaal emkawin nafsa o yenshad el thahar feeh."

"Ee walla wen3im fehum," my dad said approvingly.

"shrayich entay ta5theena," I snickered.

"9ij enich 7mara," my mom said as she threw the tissue box at me. I quickly ducked still snickering.

"3al3omoom," my dad said trying to keep a serious tone. "e7na eb nes2al 3ana akthar. entay este5eeray oo fakray bel mawtho3."

"enshalaa," I said, glad that the conversation was over... for now.

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Where It All Began

2009-07-14T20:51:00.001-07:00

O.K .. Here goes nothing !

I never thought that my life would lead to these extremes that I'm living .. My life was perfectly normal .. I'm perfectly normal .. I never had to deal with the bazaar and unusual because well .. it was never part of my stable life. That was until the mayhem and chaos disturbed it. It was as though a stone was thrown into the surface of a smooth crystal clear water sending ripples across it.. my reflection was no longer distinguishable .. It was exactly how I felt .. So that's why I'm doing this .. writing about my life . So YOU can point me to the right direction .. Sometimes a person gets so muddled up in their problems that they can't see clearly anymore .. as though there's a veil draped around their head hindering them from finding their way in the darkness ..

So I guess I'll start from the beginning. You can call me Mayd (As in el smicha) . My description ? I'll keep that to your imagination.