I
woke up before my alarm. Seems like my biological clock has this instinct that
my alarm is about to ring sometime soon. I check the time, 5:39AM. This means I
can have a banana and go for a morning jog around the city. I changed into
shorts and wore a hoodie on top, I braided my hair then took my camera – just
in case I see something inspiring. I quickly had my banana then tied my
shoelaces and warmed up. I mobilized my joints first then set off to a jog. I
stopped by the dock where the gondolas were parked, the sun was shyly peeping
through the clouds as the streaks made their way gradually to the surface of
the water, sparkling like diamonds. I took a couple of snapshots here and there;
I concentrated on the reflections mostly. I had to go back before it started
raining, the clouds were a good indication that winter was right around the
corner. I had this urge to paint, right here right now even if it rains.
Actually if it rained, it would be so much better, I’d precisely be able to
paint the reflections of anything, the reflection of the street lamp hitting a
water puddle on the floor- oooooh I’d love that! I jogged back to my apartment.
I stretched and did a few yoga moves, then headed straight to the shower. I got
dressed in my uniform, had eggs and a cup of coffee then headed to work. I
opened my umbrella because my prediction was in fact correct, not many people
were walking on the streets of Venice. We didn’t set the tables outside due to
the weather. Not many customers came. I hope they let me leave on time today so
I can meet up with Young. I wonder where he is in weathers like this; does he
have a place to live?
They
gave me my coffee break way earlier than usual, I got out my sketchbook and
sketched the buzz that I was getting from this environment and the way people
moved when it rained. They took larger steps and at a faster pace so that they
wont get wet from the rain. I had to get back, I hated being late.
Lo sma7ty? (Excuse me) Just as I was about to shut my
sketchbook, this familiar phrase used back in Arabia thrilled me. I quickly
looked up, hoping it was someone I knew. I miss my city so much, and its
citizens! His expression barely changed when our eyes met, which is a rare
thing. People tend to look surprised when they look at them, especially since
one eye colour is different than the other.
Are you a street artist?
No.
Do you sell your work?
No sir, but is there
anything I can help you with?
I’m an entrepreneur, dedicated to the world of arts and
craft that enjoys collecting masterpieces like yours.
Mashallah, that
sounds exciting… Where was he heading? He seemed interested, I could tell from the way
his eyes sparked. He was dedicated.
Indeed it is. You seem confused, I’ll start by introducing
myself, I’m Mohammed AlFlani.
I’m Shamsa AlX. Nice
to meet you.
Nice to meet you too, I’m organizing an event in March –
during art season in Dubai and I’d like to have your work there, if you don’t
mind.
But I don’t have many
paintings and I can’t go back to Dubai during March.
Are you studying here?
Yes, I am.. But I’m
planning on changing majors.
What are you majoring in at the moment?
Well, I didn’t start
yet I need to learn the language first then when I am capable I’ll major in
Fine Arts.
Take my advice Shamsa, you don’t need to major in Fine
Arts, you’re highly capable of entering some other major. You have a god given
talent, entering Fine Arts as a major is just a waste of time. Look, I don’t
want to keep you waiting, here’s my card. If you’re willing to join me give me
a call. It would be an honor to work with you.
Thank you.
Good luck.
I
stared down at the card for a while, lost in the depth of my thoughts. This is
a turning point indeed; it could forever change my life. I have only a few
months to work on a couple of paintings and display them but that will place so
much pressure on me. I needed help, but it was my future that I was gambling
with. I did not want to jeopardize it by picking the wrong decision, but deep
down I felt like I should take the road to psychology and Mohammed clearly said
it, I have the talent I shouldn’t waste my time studying something I already
know. I’m currently in a time of great personal futuristic turmoil, where
should I head to? I knew the right thing to do at the moment is call my mother
and notify her, which I did. The conversation was short, straightforward yet
intimate. We spoke for no more than 10 minutes, but we got straight to the
point, resolved the conflict and ended it with peace. The decision is made. I
quickly checked my watch I was running late, I had a minute left before the
watch strikes 3:37. I excused myself from work and ran towards the meeting
point, the rain droplets hitting my face and blurring the view. I made it in
three minutes, I stood there waiting anticipating his arrival. My breathing was
steady, the weather only got worse and darker.
I
stood there for a while, I would check my watch every few minutes praying that
he’d show up before 4. But he didn’t, and I was somehow certain that he
wouldn’t show up today especially since I stood there for half an hour waiting.
So I decided to change routes, head over to the Lombardi’s and discuss the
situation. I had to notify them as soon as possible, then I had to contact the
organization that is providing me with the scholarship. But I needed to talk to
Young, I needed his input in this… Somehow everything he says is the perfect
puzzle to these missing pieces. He is so knowledgeable, so wise when it comes
to such situations.
Talking
to the Lombardi’s was much harder than anticipated. Mrs. Lombardi ended up
crying, she was not prepared to let me go, which was extremely cute and
emotional for the two of us. It wasn’t like I was travelling in an hour; I was
to spend 2 more days with them before going back to Dubai. Although it was
raining, the Lombardi’s did not hesitate to take me out to dinner out of town
(in Vicenzia- we spent more than an hour in the car to get there!). During the
ride, they spoke mostly in Italian and Pietro did some of the translation for
me. But I was so distracted, he was conquering my thoughts and I couldn’t snap
out of it. Where was he? Why couldn’t he show up? Is he all right? I really
hope so…
You okay? He whispered, his face was so close to mine, his pupil
dilating, his eyebrows raised with concern.
Yes I smiled; I tried to
secrete my feelings. His facial expression didn’t change, but he just nodded
and fixed his posture.
Dinner
took longer than usual, every second felt like an hour of torture. I know I
sound ridiculously dramatic, and somehow as someone who does not appreciate his
or her surroundings. But for a second, put yourself in my shoes, have some
empathy… I am the kind of person who gets easily attached to things and places.
But not so easily attached to people, and when I do so, I cannot reverse my
feelings or detach myself. I attached myself to our neighbor’s son who handed
me the art kit and never got the chance to get over him, we’re talking 10 years
later. People move on, I don’t. And I have the same feelings, perhaps stronger,
towards Young. Perhaps its because I see some kind of link between the two but
I cannot seem to connect the dots yet. I concealed my feelings, almost dressing
myself in a costume that reflected the opposite of my feelings deep down. Don’t
get me wrong, we had a wonderful time, in fact I did not expect the night to
end this way.
Once
we reached Venice, the Lombardis parked their car and we made our way back to
my apartment by foot. It did not stop pouring and the temperature had dropped a
few degrees. As soon as I unlocked the door to my apartment and we said our
goodbyes, I entered and waited for them to leave so I can look for Young
because that’s what my heart was telling me. There’s no harm in trying, and if
you never try you’ll never know. I waited 20 minutes then got my umbrella and
camera and headed out. It was 1:14AM. Not the best time to be walking in the
streets of Venice, on your own. Push your
fears aside, I told myself and I kept on searching. He ought to be here,
somewhere… But I didn’t find him; the streets had a ghostly feeling. The rain
had calmed down and I was nowhere near to walking back to my apartment. If you
were superstitious, and believed in black cats and the bad luck they bring then
you would probably hate your life if you were walking beside me. These yellow
eyes just stared right through me, like a porcelain doll but meowing in a slow
long way.
It
was probably 8 degrees, I looked at the time; 1:43AM. The espresso I had
earlier kept me fueled up. I prayed that I’d bump into him at this time, but
that’s not possible. I went back to my apartment at 1:49AM. I pulled out my
sketchbook and kept on doodling. The sun was starting to rise, I couldn’t sleep
at all so I had a shower and headed out with my sketchbook and camera. The streets
were still wet so I couldn’t sit and sketch so instead I took pictures.
I
was lost in the beauty of the scenery, trying to capture every moment at its
best. Shamsa?
I jumped,
dropping my camera on the floor. Sorry… I didn’t mean to frighten you… He said while picking up
the camera.
Young! To my utter surprise, I
embraced his presence with a tight hug; I didn’t want to let go of him. Was I
imaging? Thankfully, I wasn’t and it was him! You have no idea how much you affect me… I was searching
for you almost all day and night yesterday. But there’s a reason why I was
looking for you… I need to tell you something…
Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to
the eye. H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
