It all started almost a month ago. Going down the hill, unstoppably with full force and blind gravity. I am better now, one inch. But I am. I know this is because of God’s grace and mercy. And I know it is because of the little things that happened during this month.
Sally, oh, Sally! She came from that country where she works for a very short vacation. Although we did not practice our old ritual (eating pizza cheese lovers on her coach), yet, we created a new one; drinking warm mint drink and chatting in her balcony till the early hours of the morning. She came, loaded with presents that show how much attention, care and love she puts in choosing them. One of the gifts was a candle, vanilla scented. I keep it on my bed back and I light it almost every day. The scent reminds me of Sally. My room, now, smells of Sally.
I was the moderator and organiser of a poetry event in a felucca. Leaving work almost 50 minutes before the event starts should be okay. However, that day, it took me two full hours (and five minutes) to move from Nasr City to Maadi. I was dripping exhaustion and frustration. Luckily, the attendees were friends. They understood. Some left while the remaining two waited for me on a nearby restaurant on the Corniche. Rou and Nerro, after spending less than ten minutes with them, the frustration started to slip away. Their attentive compassion was cleansing.
A few days later, I met Rou in a Cairo walk. After finishing the event, she hugged me. Not a light, casual embrace. A relatively long, tight one. It was much, much needed yet I was too shy to ask for one. I am glad it did not rain then.
That long conversation with Meto. How understanding and not judgemental he was! I kept chattering feverishly for almost two hours. His words were like patting on a scared, lost child.
I close my eyes when I hug Nahla. I also stop breathing as if I want time to stop then. She felt me. She could feel the pain. she took care of me, almost like a mother. I really have no idea how I would have survived without her.
Although I have not talked much with my Mahna-Mahna friend for a while yet I know I have more than my fair share of his prayers. And the memories of our heart-warming chats, the giggles and the happy tears were food for my soul.
Rabab, Ibraheem, Yasmina, Nesreen and Nizo. I know my name was mentioned in the whispering prayers uttered by their beautiful hearts.
I still can use all the prayers my friends can spare. Yet, I am grateful to them beyond any words can convey. Their love make all the difference to me.