الثلاثاء، 17 أغسطس، 2010

A Girl Called Yes

so I was in the library, with my cherry colour (cola) beside me, writing a list of arabic words...I looked quickly to my right at another table, where a girl had just sat down...I looked back at my books...sighting, this..."IS my folder, with a big ARABIC written across it...look..."

When she caught my attention by standing up swiftly, and leaning forward, I shook a little...

"You are learning Arabic!!"

Yes, I am.

Then she moved towards my table, and stood in front of me...she was wearing black snood, under a black hijab...she was slim. I looked at her side-ways with wandering eyes...she was wearing make-up, good well-applied hazel make-up, purple and black, her face was quite...light/pale...she said loudly:

"Do you want me to teach you Arabic!!!"

I listened to her accent...I said, "You are Russian, you are a spy...Polack...you sound polish..."

"No, no, I am just beginning,...I I I can't make words, I mean I haven't learnt how to put sentences together, yet, ..." And I waved my pen over, the books, and grabbed at one and flicked through...waving at the words in the book...and pulling them towards me like I wanted to hide them...I said;

"I am not very good, I can't put sentences together, I'm a bit stupid...I've know, I I, I've been learning (5 weeks), 5 weeks, no; less, a month and a half..."

she sat at her table again, holding a mobile phone up, and staring at its screen...

I smiled, hoping, looking to see if she was smiling too, and went back to writing the list...but stopped and just stared at it, then looked side-ways, and began gathering the papers and books around me to make a neater space...and she shot up again, and stood over me, her face leaning into mine...

Then I said: "I am doing a course...which I have to pay for...but it is closed for Rama'dan' (rama-daaaaaaan) Rama Rama, rama dan...I I I....daa' daan, I am not converted, I am at ----name--- college...(thinking, someone has planted her here, a polack, why did i give the place....)...it is a charity..(It is a very poor place, that's why we give money, the ceiling has holes in it and messy walls, and the pens run out....)....it has barbed wire, and pen bars over it...it is a charity, (what? organation?) ah, ah"

She lifted her eyebrows.


" I am doing this because...I am silly...and I love poetry (Rumi, Khayyam) and I love the music...the college is behind the ----- Mosque...(will you find me there?) I should not tell you this..."

I think she told me a few times she would teach me, and everytime I said No...I was blushing, and I said so, I was "red." looking down at the book...I thought; "I haven't blushed for a very long time, I did it all the time at school, in front of pretty teachers..." (I was even mute for a whole year of Graphics...)

"You were born a muslim?" I asked, because I was sure she was a polish convert...she bowed and looked:


"YES! I was born a muslim..."

She was standing there looking, while I blushed...I moved the book:

"I, I also go to a ART...a school...I mean...art-school....just , I mean a silly little course at a local college...I am embarassed about Rama'dan, I am so stupid to pronounce...so,

"I also design mosques, well a little, it stopped...I am doing this course, because I want to go to study Architect....tect...tureeeeeeee....ar-architect (I am stupid so I will say that wrong, also)...please leave me...'

She replied:

"I know alot, of, mosques...!!"

"No, no..."

"My name is Lou, lou...not the boys one, Louis...What is your name?"

Loud, she leaned very close to my face, she had quite large lips and they were hazel, and I said "Autumn!" ("because I used to wear my mum's hazel coloured lipstick when I was a teen, and I love Autumn colours"):

"Na'am!"

"You are YES, YES!"

I repeated her name, and pronounced it perfectly...

She leaned forward again, and shouted:

"NA....am!"

"Please leave me..."

She said:

"Can you meet me, here, at the same time, on the same day??"

I said:

"I am going to my parents....no, no...yes, I can meet you here, on Monday, pleaase leave me alone...."


She sat down at the other table again, I wondered what she was doing here, why she had no books, the reason for her being in the library, was because she was a spy sent to find me, a russian spy...she was holding the phone in front of her again, up in the air, doing nothing but stare at it;

I ran out...I left her with:

"Do you smoke?" She said: "No..." like she was sad ...I ran out, and sat in a corner by the entrance...then; she walked out a split second after, holding the phone up in front of her...and turned the corner to the car-park...I went back in, and sat at a computer, looking out the window...but I saw her drive away in a small red car...it was sad, so I wrote my email address, and left it at her place at the table...


---

There are songs in Hope, and for some reason this is my YES song...It played in Dad's car...it lifted me...The Klaxons-Echoes...it's nothing special...

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