A Boxing tournament Episode #7
“Are you happy?” he asked me as he tried to
skip the falling rain drops with his speeding steps. He was walking fast just
like the rest of the group and nothing stopped him from racing with the rain
until he heard my answer as I said to him “No, not really.. I am neither
happy nor sad” and continued walking slower than everybody else with a very
serene smile on my face..
I found myself recalling this conversation 10 hours after it occurred as I was sitting on one of the tiny purple metro seats on the way to Champs Elysees. The moment I put my headphones on to listen to Edith Piaf’s “L'Accordeoniste”, which I haven’t stopped listening to for two days now, I saw a man who looked pretty much like my father taking out his pocket size Quran and diving within the beautifully hand written verses.
I suddenly lost track of both the man’s peaceful eyes as well as Edith’s voice and went back to Yesterday’s conversation:
Emilian: Aren’t you on a quest to find happiness?
Me: No..
I found myself recalling this conversation 10 hours after it occurred as I was sitting on one of the tiny purple metro seats on the way to Champs Elysees. The moment I put my headphones on to listen to Edith Piaf’s “L'Accordeoniste”, which I haven’t stopped listening to for two days now, I saw a man who looked pretty much like my father taking out his pocket size Quran and diving within the beautifully hand written verses.
I suddenly lost track of both the man’s peaceful eyes as well as Edith’s voice and went back to Yesterday’s conversation:
Emilian: Aren’t you on a quest to find happiness?
Me: No..
Emilian: But isn’t this a
bit sad?
Me: Well Not really.. I am on a quest to find inner peace.. I have been to ultimate happiness and ultimate dark sorrow.. I have had them all and I know that none of them is infinite. All I want is settlement. Plus if we are happy all the time, how would we know that we are happy? Don’t you need some sadness to compare happiness to in order to realize that you are truly happy?
Emilian: Well.. I guess being happy all the time is a bit boring but wow.. You are a philosopher, huh!
Me: It’s what I do for a living..
The conversation ended with us laughing and the thought of it made me smile as I got off the metro and headed to the Sorte “Exit” where the enchanting sound of the accordion was playing Edith’s song in a way that brought that serene smile back to my face… It was as though Edith wanted me to hear the rest of her song even by a player at the exit of the metro. As gratitude, I dropped some money in his hat and headed out to see a huge crowd of people and photographers. As I came closer, I realized it was a fashion event that super models were getting of the Limonene to attend. Yet, the models failed to distract me from what surrounded me…
I have only felt how small my body mass is twice in my life.. Once when I got lost on a very hot day in NYC and the second time, when I was embraced so warmly for moments that I felt I found home for the first time in my life. Today, I felt how small my head, shoulders, hands and feet are again but not because I was lost and not because I was home… I was simply overwhelmed by how little I know about the secrets that hid behind those huge statues leading to the Elysees. Saints, angels, warriors and hundreds of thousands of secrets hiding behind the old stones. The thought of how many people stood, fell, laughed and cried while standing by one of those statues brought tears to my eyes that I held back until I saw tens of locks around the angels arms.. Lovers write their initials on locks and keep them on bridges and statues… My inevitable sarcasm killed the moment, and I caught myself saying: Huh! What is the difference! A Parisian girl puts a lock on a statue? A Yemeni girl gets a lock on her room’s door when she falls in love : )
As I wandered for hours from the Seine river till I got a bit far, my feet started begging me to sit and my eyes took them to a Parisian Café near Tour Eiffel where I sat and enjoyed French cuisine and waiters’ humor.
And as I found some peace, my serenity was interrupted by an Algerian homeless man collecting cigarette butts then asking me for a lighter to light one. I paid my check, gave the Algerian man a new pack and my lighter then walked to the metro station. On the way, I recalled the rest of my conversations with Emilian and Sebastian..
Sebastian: I hope you enjoyed your time today! You know there are many Israelian “He meant Israeli” restaurants around… I LOVE Israelian food, you know!
Me: Really? Like what?
Sebastian: Ohh like Falafel, taboole, and Hummus!
Me: But....
And before I even tried to explain that all what he mentioned has nothing to do with Israel and that him saying that ached my heart a bit, he started dancing to an Algerian song and screamed: I LOVE THIS HAPPY MUSIC!
What song? : ) : ) It is the anthem of every tortured soul that had to leave home to look for bread and shelter.. The Algerian melody: Ya Rayeh….
I looked at him and thought to myself, maybe next time I see a cigarette butt, I will explain.. Or maybe not.. After all.. Food and music are just like religion and politics where I come from, full of locks not like the ones on the bridges of Paris but the ones on an Arab girl’s room when she falls in love.
Paris
October 2nd. 2012
***Oh and one more thing ;)
Me: Well Not really.. I am on a quest to find inner peace.. I have been to ultimate happiness and ultimate dark sorrow.. I have had them all and I know that none of them is infinite. All I want is settlement. Plus if we are happy all the time, how would we know that we are happy? Don’t you need some sadness to compare happiness to in order to realize that you are truly happy?
Emilian: Well.. I guess being happy all the time is a bit boring but wow.. You are a philosopher, huh!
Me: It’s what I do for a living..
The conversation ended with us laughing and the thought of it made me smile as I got off the metro and headed to the Sorte “Exit” where the enchanting sound of the accordion was playing Edith’s song in a way that brought that serene smile back to my face… It was as though Edith wanted me to hear the rest of her song even by a player at the exit of the metro. As gratitude, I dropped some money in his hat and headed out to see a huge crowd of people and photographers. As I came closer, I realized it was a fashion event that super models were getting of the Limonene to attend. Yet, the models failed to distract me from what surrounded me…
I have only felt how small my body mass is twice in my life.. Once when I got lost on a very hot day in NYC and the second time, when I was embraced so warmly for moments that I felt I found home for the first time in my life. Today, I felt how small my head, shoulders, hands and feet are again but not because I was lost and not because I was home… I was simply overwhelmed by how little I know about the secrets that hid behind those huge statues leading to the Elysees. Saints, angels, warriors and hundreds of thousands of secrets hiding behind the old stones. The thought of how many people stood, fell, laughed and cried while standing by one of those statues brought tears to my eyes that I held back until I saw tens of locks around the angels arms.. Lovers write their initials on locks and keep them on bridges and statues… My inevitable sarcasm killed the moment, and I caught myself saying: Huh! What is the difference! A Parisian girl puts a lock on a statue? A Yemeni girl gets a lock on her room’s door when she falls in love : )
As I wandered for hours from the Seine river till I got a bit far, my feet started begging me to sit and my eyes took them to a Parisian Café near Tour Eiffel where I sat and enjoyed French cuisine and waiters’ humor.
And as I found some peace, my serenity was interrupted by an Algerian homeless man collecting cigarette butts then asking me for a lighter to light one. I paid my check, gave the Algerian man a new pack and my lighter then walked to the metro station. On the way, I recalled the rest of my conversations with Emilian and Sebastian..
Sebastian: I hope you enjoyed your time today! You know there are many Israelian “He meant Israeli” restaurants around… I LOVE Israelian food, you know!
Me: Really? Like what?
Sebastian: Ohh like Falafel, taboole, and Hummus!
Me: But....
And before I even tried to explain that all what he mentioned has nothing to do with Israel and that him saying that ached my heart a bit, he started dancing to an Algerian song and screamed: I LOVE THIS HAPPY MUSIC!
What song? : ) : ) It is the anthem of every tortured soul that had to leave home to look for bread and shelter.. The Algerian melody: Ya Rayeh….
I looked at him and thought to myself, maybe next time I see a cigarette butt, I will explain.. Or maybe not.. After all.. Food and music are just like religion and politics where I come from, full of locks not like the ones on the bridges of Paris but the ones on an Arab girl’s room when she falls in love.
Paris
October 2nd. 2012
***Oh and one more thing ;)
يا رايح وين مسافر تروح تعيا وتولي .. شعال ندمو العباد الغافلين قبلك وقبلي
شعال شفت البلدان العامرين و
البر الغالي ..شعال ضيعت اوقات و شعال تزيد
ما زال تخلي
يا الغايب في بلاد الناس شعال تعيا ما تجري ..ديك وعد القدرة ولّى زمان وإنت ما تدري
عليش قلبك حزين وعليش هاك داك الزواري ..ما تدوم الشدة ولا طريق تعلم وتدري
ما يدوموا الأيام ولا يدوم سهرك و سهري ..يا حنين ومسكين الي غاب سعدوك فكري
يا مسافر نعطيك وصيتي هدية عن بكري ..شوف ما يصلح بيك قبل ما تبيع وما تشري
يا النايم جاني خبرك ماسرالك يسرالي ...هاك دارني وخدر في الجبين سبحان العال
يا الغايب في بلاد الناس شعال تعيا ما تجري ..ديك وعد القدرة ولّى زمان وإنت ما تدري
عليش قلبك حزين وعليش هاك داك الزواري ..ما تدوم الشدة ولا طريق تعلم وتدري
ما يدوموا الأيام ولا يدوم سهرك و سهري ..يا حنين ومسكين الي غاب سعدوك فكري
يا مسافر نعطيك وصيتي هدية عن بكري ..شوف ما يصلح بيك قبل ما تبيع وما تشري
يا النايم جاني خبرك ماسرالك يسرالي ...هاك دارني وخدر في الجبين سبحان العال
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