I left the
driver's seat and moved to the back seat with a lightness. I relaxed and looked
toward the highway that the car was traveling at medium speed.
The car
seems to wear well without my intervention.
I looked
backward to the road I left behind, the sky is clear with a little cloud that
magnifies the sight, and from time to time I look forward. The car is still moving quietly and
confidently.
There are
cars that can move automatically, but is my car of this type?
Sleeping
tickles my muscles, I relax again and it seems to me that I have been gone for
a moment.
Damn! My car
cannot move automatically. How can I let
it go alone without a driver and just stretch on the back seat?
The internal
tension escalated at crazy speed, and with one jump I went back to the driver's
seat.
I grabbed
the steering wheel strongly. I wondered for a moment: would I be able to regain
control of the car or would it refuse to intervene after it finally gained its
freedom?
But it did
not show any objection, and left me the task of leadership with a warm welcome.
-----------
Suddenly the
scene changed.
-----------
In the guest
room in our old apartment where I used to live with my father and mother.
Although I
had left that house for years, I was not surprised to be there.
I am shouting
angrily at the phone as someone listened to me.
They seem to
have committed an unforgivable mistake. My
anger was raging, and on the other side the man was stuttering with flimsy
justifications that made me angrier. Why
did not he admit his company's mistake without question?
Do I look
like a person who can give up his right?
What a fool!
In the end
he promised me to do whatever I asked for, but I was still angry.
The room is
full of men I do not know, but I do not feel the slightest surprise, and I do
not feel any strange, on the contrary I began to speak, and I gave them the
cause of my wrath, and they smiled with understanding.
I'm still
angry!
-----------
The scene
changed again
-----------
It is the
time of Friday prayers.
I stand with
my childhood friends near the neighbourhood mosque where we used to pray every
Friday.
They sit
next to each other on the sidewalk and speak with concentration, while I stand
a step away from them. Instead of their
voice, the Imam's voice with Friday speech fills my ears from the suspended
microphone on the property I am standing in front of.
The sermon
is nearing the end and they are still preoccupied with a discussion I cannot
hear.
I am
surprised that they hear each other, while I cannot hear a single word. Time is running out and the speech is almost
over.
I drew their
attention and we hurry up to the mosque to find the rows have already been
packed in preparation for prayer.
On the mats
outside the mosque we lined up at the last minute. I'm in the middle of my two friends.
The prayer
begins. The first prostration lasted and
the voice of the Imam did not come to me.
Has
electricity been cut off and we can no longer hear the Imam?
I feel the
emptiness around me. Without my will, I
look stealthily to find prostration in front of me, and I continued to
prostrate.
Did the Imam
die?
Time goes on
and we still prostrate, and it seems that no one else cares.
I straighten a little to discover the disappearance of my friend. And the rest of people are still all
prostration.
I go back to
prostration. Does God accept this
prayer!
I do not
care anymore, I stand up, everything around me disappears like smoke, which the
wind surprises.
And I wake
up.
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