الثلاثاء، يوليو 15، 2014

Zainab ;An intensive life of a young Muslim girl

Short Story Written by : Kareem Amer

Arabic-English Translation : Reem Osama Abdelrazik 

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"4:32 And do not wish for that by which Allah has made some of you exceed others. For men is  a share of what they have earned, and for women is a share of what they have earned. And ask Allah of his bounty. Indeed Allah is ever, of all things, Knowing. 

4:33 And for all, We have made heirs to what is left by parents and relatives. And to those whom your oaths have bound [to you] - give them their share. Indeed Allah is ever, over all things, a Witness.

 4:34 Men are in charge of women by [right of] what Allah has given one over the other and what they spend [for maintenance] from their wealth. So righteous women are devoutly obedient, guarding in [the husband's] absence what Allah would have them guard. But those [wives] from whom you fear arrogance - [first] advise them; [then if they persist], forsake them in bed; and [finally], strike them. But if they obey you [once more], seek no means against them. Indeed, Allah is ever Exalted and Grand.

4:35 And if you fear dissension between the two, send an arbitrator from his people and an arbitrator from her people. If they both desire reconciliation, Allah will cause it between them. Indeed, Allah is ever Knowing and Acquainted [with all things]." Quran, Surat An-Nisā' 

She dumped her skinny body on the wooden chair after setting it by the table, then opened the Quran to these verses of Surat An-Nisā' (The Women Chapter) that she'd marked with a small piece of paper. She began reciting these verses repeatedly out loud in an attempt to memorize them before her father came back from work that night.  Peeking at her wristwatch every now and then, she felt time tighten its grip on her as the watch did on her wrist.

She felt a surge of adrenaline rushing through her veins as her recitation pace got faster, dominated by anxiety, restlessness, and panic, and her brown cheeks turned red. If she made ​​a mistake with one syllable of those verses, her father would mercilessly punish her with the plastic red hose that left its usual marks on her frail body, the hose that had become so familiar since he decided to "protect her morals from corruption" by pulling her out of Azhar Elementary School and ending her education at a very young age.
She reiterated those verses, then closed the Quran and tested her ability to recite them from memory. Mistakes made her face more anxious and red as she breathlessly revised with the ghost of that red plastic hose hovering above her Quran, showing her fear of what awaited her that night.
Though her mind roamed in distant memories, she had to remain focused on her current reality; all time meant to her was measuring how much of it was left before her father came from work and tested her every night.  He assigned her verses every day and if she failed to recite them correctly by even a syllable it would be a catastrophe. All her memories since early childhood had been dominated by her father’s physical and psychological abuse; memories devoid of abuse were a rare exception to the rule. Her father's brutal punishments were always accompanied by excuses, the most frequent being that he did this to teach her.  She had reached the point where “teaching” had become a word with a bad reputation; whenever she heard that word she knew that it meant a beating, a brutal merciless beating. Whenever he said, “I’ll teach you…" to any of his children, they knew that what he really meant was, "I’ll beat the hell out of you”.   To her, there were no other meanings of that word which had left its marks on her body since she was an infant. 
Zainab's head reeled and her exhaustion came between her and the assignment as she surrendered to sleep, lacking the luxury of resilience. The red hose hovered in her mind and the conscious and unconscious blurred as her memory flew back five years to the day she remembered as if it were yesterday, when her mother had decided to end her marriage to the monster with whom she had lived for so long and had children.  That spring, at the beginning of the new millennium, twelve year old Zainab, whose life like the rest of her family's had been full of suffering, inadvertently brought about the end of her parents' marriage.
A year before, Zainab’s father had decided to pull Zainab and her younger sister out of school and forced them to wear a burqa just like the one their mother wore every time she went out.  At first he did not think it essential to make this decision because his two daughters attended Azhar Elementary School, which specialized in the teaching of the Koran. Although the school was not gender-segregated, he did not mind very much while his girls were very young, although deep down he wished boys and girls could be segregated from birth. He was always anxious and afraid of what might happen otherwise. 
Zainab's devoutly religious father worked for the Egyptian Ministry of Agriculture, and volunteered at the nearby mosque, the keys to which always remained in his possession. He was proud of volunteering because he believed, as in a statement attributed to Muhammad, that service to the mosque would lengthen his neck on the Day of Judgment.  The rest of his time was mostly occupied with obsessions about the “moral corruption” that he believed had infiltrated Egypt. To him, this “moral corruption" boiled down to the behavior and clothes of the girls he saw while taking public transportation on his way to and from work. 
He disapproved of their dress, which he described as “naked clothes,” and of any social contact between boys and girls before marriage. He stated that school girls were a living example of the moral decay of society for they laughed out loud, talked shamelessly and openly about their relationships with the opposite sex, rarely left school without walking with a male who was not their relative, and did not observe the proper hijab, instead wearing clothes that defined their bodies. One could only marvel at how much time such a devout and religious bearded man (in his view, the beard symbolized his strong adherence to Islam’s principles, for which he gained respect among his like minded friends) spent observing and talking about these schoolgirls.
He was keen on keeping his daughters from mingling with members of this “morally corrupt and religiously ignorant” Egyptian society. They never mingled with anyone outside the family. The moment Zainab turned two, he asked her mother to design a headscarf that would fit her small head and did the same with Zainab’s younger sister when she turned two. Even though he knew that girls were not religiously obligated to wear headscarves at that age, he believed that by enforcing the hijab when they were too young to make conscious decisions about what to do and wear, he ensured that they would wear it for life.
These happy little girls were unaware that this small piece of cloth covering their heads would abort their dreams and murder their childhoods, that they were wearing their own coffins.
Their father believed that a virtuous woman went outdoors only twice in her life, once when she moved from her father’s home to her husband’s, and once when she left her husband’s home for the graveyard. He believed that raising his daughters according to this principle would ensure his entrance into heaven— having girls was a huge ordeal, but by enduring this ordeal and raising his girls the way he did, he erased his sins. He often quoted Muhammed’s wife Aisha, saying that whoever faced the ordeal of having girls by being good to them would be protected from the fires of Hell.
The two little girls did not mingle with any other children, even relatives; they lived secluded within the boundaries of their home. Once, when Zainab was five, she shook hands with her Seven year old male cousin in front of her brother; he was then brutally beaten by their father for “lacking in manhood” because he had done nothing to prevent this shame.
Their father was always anxious, mistrustful and suspicious even though the only thing his little girls did besides household chores was play with the toys that he approved of (he believed dolls and stuffed animals were forbidden). They never stepped outside the home unless it was absolutely necessary and even then they were always escorted by either him or one of their brothers.    
When Zainab turned eight, her father became overwhelmed by anxiety because a new law issued by the Ministry of Health prevented doctors from performing FGM; this new problem echoed in his head, giving him constant headaches. He would frequently say, “If the girls walking around outside now are already at this high level of immorality even though they have been circumcised, then what will a generation of uncircumcised girls look like?”  He saw FGM as an essential protection of morality and honor, which to him, consisted entirely in avoiding premarital sexual relations.
Still at the table but no longer able to resist sleep, Zainab surrendered to it and dreamed haunting memories of the day she inadvertently caused her parents' divorce. That day, her father had called her upon returning home from work and asked her to recite the verses she was supposed to memorize. She couldn’t recite them word for word but made mistakes. He calmly asked her to go and get the red hose to so she could be punished. She went but couldn’t find it. After looking long and hard, she finally saw her mother using it for some household chores in the kitchen. Zainab asked to borrow the red hose and when her mother asked why, Zainab answered innocently, "So Father can beat me because I did not memorize the verses which he assigned me.” 
Zainab’s father was her mother’s older first cousin; they had been married twenty-four years. Both had graduated from Alexandria University during the seventies. Her mother majored in history and her father majored in agriculture. While they belonged to a socially conservative family, like most families from the countryside, they had no inclination towards religious fundamentalism in those days.
Old pictures of Zainab’s parents leaked by relatives showed her mother unveiled and wearing a short skirt, while her father was a slim clean-shaven man who showed none of the facial expressions his children were accustomed to seeing all the time. He looked so different, his children doubted these were really pictures of their parents. When he was in college, her father did not want to study agriculture; he wanted to study stage directing, but his father saw this as trivial and threatened to cut him off financially if he majored in theatre.
Unable to rebel, Zainabl's father attended Alexandria University's Faculty of Agriculture, which accepted the low scores he’d obtained during high school as other university faculties would not. With other students, he formed a drama club that put quite a number of plays on the school’s stage. Some members of that club moved on to become well known in the Egyptian art scene, but Zainab's father left the drama club, retired from all theatrical activities, and became strongly opposed to art and theatre, claiming to have received a divine calling.  
While in college, he was known for his multiple relationships with women, which may be partially responsible for his insane suspicion of all women, including his relatives, wife and children. He made many unwise decision that he claimed were to protect his wife and daughters from falling into the sins of ex-girlfriends who had fancied him and had sex with him. 
Immediately after graduation, Zainab’s mother worked as a high school English and history teacher while her father worked for the Egyptian Ministry of Agriculture. This job required him to constantly move and travel.  After marriage, he and his wife settled in a village in the province of Albuhaira, an hour and a half away by train from Alexandria, where they had their first child. Due to the contractual obligations of his employment, he had to leave to work in Italy
One day, months later, he got a vacation from work and decided to return to Egypt to visit his family, whom he had been missing. He boarded a vessel from Milan to Alexandria, then took a train to the village.  It was raining heavily but his yearning to see his wife and son made him forget to take his umbrella out so his clothes got soaking wet. He walked into the village and saw a group of about ten people walking together and holding umbrellas. He got a little closer and saw his wife walking next to a male colleague and sharing his umbrella. His veins popping and his blood boiling with rage, he put down his suitcase and headed towards the group. 
His wife was delightfully surprised to see him but he knocked her down with a slap and started dragging her by her hair while she cried and screamed, unable to comprehend what was going on. He told her to follow him home and on the way showered her with curses, insults and accusations of infidelity. This incident was always brought up in their house, told and retold during every fight; Zainab’s father told the story as evidence of his wife’s immorality and his own “manhood." He used it as an example when teaching Zainab’s brothers how to treat their wives in the future, stating that if "they (women) are not treated like garbage they will bear no respect or appreciation or submission to you.”
This was not the first nor last time her husband treated her with such violence; during their engagement, he often yelled at her and sometimes slapped her in public, but she loved him to the point where she would constantly forget, hoping that he would change after they got married. These hopes were mere illusions that destroyed her own life and the lives of her children. 
There’s an Egyptian saying that describes her husband: “A dog’s tail won’t straighten even if you put it into a mold.” She realized this too late, after living for more then two decades in the same home with a monster who never hesitated to hurt her or her children with or without a reason, even if that reason was simply cutting her hair a tiny bit. He had different levels of expressing his rage, starting with curses and insults and ending with throwing pots and pans, or threatening to burn down the place with them in it with the gas used for cooking.
On the day in question, Zainab's mother asked, “Could you repeat what you just said? The child replied in true innocence, "So Father can beat me because I did not memorize the verses which he assigned me.”  The mother couldn’t take it any longer.  She put down the plate she was washing and went to the room where the father was sitting, pushing the door open loudly and yelling, "Who are you? Satan?  Why are you doing this to her?  Do you want to ruin her life like you ruined mine?"

The father acted confused for a second then said, "What’re you babbling about you, crazy woman?" She told him what Zainab had asked of her, and he said, “Do not to interfere with the way I raise my children! God knows I am the only one who knows how. Your interference will corrupt them!” He insinuated that she herself was immoral and badly brought up.  She began to scream and before anyone could figure out what she was saying, he got up and began to beat her. The boys interfered, trying to calm things down before this fight got as bloody as they often had before. She walked away, yelling, "That is enough! My life with you is over and you will never touch me again! I want a divorce."
The mother thought she could protect her daughters from the violence and cruelty of this man if they separated. The father tried to "calm things down" as he had in the past, but she had reached the end of her endurance and patience; this was the last straw. She rejected all mediation and reconciliation initiatives by relatives and held to her position. 
The family lived in an apartment she had inherited from her father.  He had no other place to stay, which is the reason he was always hesitant when she asked him for a divorce. Now he began looking for an apartment to rent, and moved his belongings there.  The whole time he kept trying to get things back like they were before, but she rejected that with unprecedented strength. All her life she had been docile and submissive, but now she had become a woman nobody knew, someone else. The wounded female had awakened in her pride and dignity, and made the only right choice for the first time since she had been with him. 
He asked her if her menstruation period was over, she nodded
He asked, “Have you changed your mind?” She said, “No, I no longer want us living under one roof.” He waited in silence for a few minutes, serenely looking from her to the children and back. Then he got up and looked at her a last time before uttering the words she had been waiting for "… I divorce thee.”  Zainab's mother got up quickly and put a piece of cloth on her head since he was no longer her husband from the moment he said so.  After the divorce he insisted on taking the girls to live with him in his new apartment, stating that he feared his immoral ex-wife would corrupt them
A nagging voice woke Zainab.  Lifting her head, she found her father standing in front of her.  She was frightened because she had fallen asleep before finishing her memorization; now there was no time left. He stared at her for a long time before asking in his rough voice, "Did you memorize or do you go get the hose?"
Zainab nodded in terror and gave him the Quran.  He sat in her place, opened the Quran and ordered her to sit on the floor and recite what she’d been told to memorize. The girl began to recite from memory while he distributed his looks between the verses and her eyes, which were filled with unmistakable horror and dread.  She began reciting, "And do not wish for that by which Allah has made some of you exceed others. For men is a share of what they have earned, and for women is a share of what they have earned. And ask Allah of his bounty. Indeed Allah is ever, of all things, Knowing. And for all, we have made heirs to what is left by parents and relatives. And to those whom your oaths have bound [to you] - give them their share. Indeed Allah is ever, over all things, a Witness.  Women are in charge of men by….”
He screamed at her before she finished the verse in which she had inadvertently exchanged the position of men and women, saying, “Changing the Quran? You will be punished, you heathen!”  She wept, trying to explain, “ I didn’t mean to, I was just tired and fell asleep while revising what you’d asked of me.”  In a rage he yelled at her, “And you dare talk back!” then began to slap her. She burst into tears but that didn’t stop him from yelling some more and accusing her of blasphemy for "changing the Quran" and of immorality for talking back.  He ended his screaming with, "Go get the hose, bitch!” And, as usual, Zainab went to get her tool of punishment while tears rolled down her cheeks. 
(such stories has no end)

الأربعاء، أبريل 30، 2014

اللقاء الأول !!

نسيت أن اذكرك كيف إلتقينا ، إن كانت ذاكرتك قد انهكتها آلام لم تفارقك حتي اللحظة الأخيرة ...
كنت بمنزلي في الاسكندرية نهاية يونيو عام 2006 عندما تلقيت اتصالا من رقم لا اعرفه ...
فتحت الخط لأجد فتاة تحدثني بادئة بتقديم اعتذار عن اتصالها دون سابق معرفة قائلة انها حصلت علي رقم هاتفي من مدونتي ، وانا تهاتفني لتخبرني انها قرأت بعض ما كتبت ونال إعجابها ، شكرتها ، فطلبت مني ان نكون اصدقاء ....
كانت تلك الفتاة أنت ... هل تذكرين ذالك ؟!
لم يكن الامر سارا او مزعجا في بدايته ، ففي تلك الفترة اعتدت علي مثل هذا النوع من المكالمات ولم أكن أعيره اهتماما أكثر من تقديم الشكر لمحدثي سواء كان مادحا ام ذاما ....
فيما بعد تحدثت الي مرات قليلة عبر الهاتف وعبر برنامج ام اس ان ميسنجر ، ولم يتغير اي شئ ، كنت وقتها مثلك مثل اي شخص احدثه لنناقش فكرة او موضوعا ما طرح في كتاباتي او كتابات غيري او لم يطرحه أحد ....
حتي سافرت يوما الي القاهرة في محاولة يائسة مني لسحب اوراقي من جامعة الازهر بعد ان فصلني القائمون عليها منها بسبب كتاباتي التي اعتبروها خرقا للائحتهم الداخلية ومخالفة لقانونهم ، بائت المحاولة بالفشل ، ولم أتمكن من الحصول علي ما كنت ارغب في الحصول عليه تعسفا منهم ...
غادرت الجامعة ، وذهبت للقاء صديقة لي وتذكرت أنك في القاهرة ولا ادري لم اتصلت بك وأخبرتك ، واردفت ان وقتي ضيق وعلي ان اعود الي الاسكندرية في نفس اليوم معتذرا عن لقائك ، لكنك الححت عليه ، وهي المرة الوحيدة التي الححت فيها علي في لقاء ولم تتكرر لاحقا ...
اخبرتك ان بامكاني لقائك لخمس دقائق فقط لان الشمس اشرفت علي الغروب ، واتفقنا علي اللقاء أمام بوابة جنينة مول بمدينة نصر ...
تأخرت قليلا فغضبت ، واتصلت بك واعتذرت ووقفت منتظرا اطالع الوجوه ، فلم يسبق لي ان رأيتك من قبل ....
معظم الفتيات اللائي كن يتحركن في محيط المكان كن يضعن حجابا علي رؤوسهن ، ولم تكن الصورة المتواضعة التي رسمها خيالي قبل لقائي بك تستبعد أن تكوني واحدة منهن ، فاستمرت متابعتي للقادمات والمبتعدات ، بحثا عن عن شخص يبحث عني دون جدوي ...
نظرت الي يميني فرأيت فتاة تتحرك ناحيتي علي البعد ، فلم اهتم ، فقد كانت الصورة المتواضعة التي رسمها خيالي لك هي المسيطرة علي تفكيري ، وكانت الفتاة التي تتحرك ناحيتي تبدو مخالفة لها ...
كانت ترتدي تنورة زرقاء قصيرة ، وتوب اصفر اللون ، تجاهلتها واستمرت متابعتي للفتيات المحجبات ... حتي اقتربت مني ...
كنت قد اخبرتك في الهاتف انني سأقف وبيدي كتاب وحينها ستتعرفين علي ، نسيت عنوان الكتاب الان لكنه كان احد اصدارات مكتبة الأسرة ...
وجدت الفتاة تقف بالقرب مني ، وتنظر الي الكتاب ، ثم الي ، ثم سألتني وابتسامة خجولة تعلو وجهها : انت كريم ؟! هززت راسي موافقا في خجل وتردد ، فاردفت وابتسامتها تتسع : أنا سهر !!!
امتدت الخمس دقائق الي خمس ساعات ...
تحدثنا كثيرا وسألتك عن السلسلة التي تتدلي من رقبتك فأخبرتني انها تحمل شعارا نسويا ...
عدت الي الاسكندرية ليلا علي وعد بان نلتقي بعد يومين في رحلة ليوم واحد الي احد شواطئ مدينة فايد ...
ذهبت وانتطرتك ، لكنك لم تأت ، وكان يوما حزينا ، اتصلت بك كثيرا لكنك لم تردي علي الهاتف ، لكنك بعد ثلاثة ايام ارسلت لي رسالة قصيرة تعتذرين فيها وتبكين تقريبا. . وتطلبين موعدا نتحدث فيه علي المسينجر لتخبريني بامر هام عنك وعن حياتك واخبرتك ايضا انني اريد ان اخبرك بشئ هام ....
تحدثنا ، حدثتني عنك ، عن حياتك ، الامك ومعاناتك ، واصررت علي ان اخبرك بما كنت اخفيه داخلي ...
اذكر انني قلت لك بشكل متتابع :
انا بحبك ... وعارف اني مستاهلش !!!
كانت هذه هي المرة الاولي والأخيرة التي أبدأ فيها بمصارحة احداهن بحبي لها ....

سهر ... انا احبك ، ولذالك سافعل ما بوسعي حتي أحصر ذكرياتنا في اللحظات الجميلة التي جمعتنا عامي 2006  ...
سأحاول اقناع نفسي بأنني لم اعرفك ولم اتحدث معك ، ولم التق بك بعدها ....

‪#‎RIP_Sahar‬

سهر ومشروع لم يكتمل !!

من ذكرياتنا معا ومع اصدقاء اخرين فرقهم الزمن محاولتنا انشاء كيان يحمل اسم : الحركة المصرية لمناهضة التجنيد الإلزامي !!
كنت في هذا التوقيت في عام 2006 متحمسا لكتابة مقالات تنتقد نظام التجنيد الإلزامي في مصر ...
بالنسبة لكثيرين ، كان موضوعا شائكا وقتها لا يسمح بالاقتراب منه ...
كان الجميع قد تعارف ضمنيا علي ان انتقاد اي شخص داخل منظومة الحكم في مصر مشروع ، لكن الجيش واي شئ يخصه خط احمر ...
لكن لم يكن لدي ما أخسره ، ولم يشغلني سوي ما أؤمن به ، وكان ذالك ما جذبك لي اكثر ، ثم ابعدك عني لاحقا عندما سجنت ...
حدثتك عن الفكرة التي تختمر في ذهني ، وفوجئت بتحمسك لها ، انشأنا عنوانا بريديا للحركة ، وبدأنا في اعداد الهيكل التنظيمي والبيان التأسيسي ، غير اني استدعيت للتحقيق في النيابة العامة وسجنت قبل ان ننتهي من اعداد ما شرعنا فيه ...
لكن الفكرة لم تمت ، واحياها وانا في السجن صديقي الذي تعرفت اليه لاحقا مايكل نبيل سند !!
هل تذكرين هذه الايام ؟!
احبك ....
‪#‎RIP_Sahar‬

I tried to stop thinking about this time I mentioned before (November 2010-Mid 2011) but I couldn't . it was too much to forgot , and I don't think I worth such a bad treatment from you.

I was too nice with you but you was reacting in a way I don't want to describe .

you sent me SMS later after I left to poland saying that you are apologizing of what you did , but you added ".. But I have my own reasons " which meaning that you justify such thing… .

That does not heal the wound which you made deeper into my heart , but I did my best to forget about it…
Anyway , we had some nice and unforgetable times earlier in 2006 , and later in the end of 2011 and until the end of 2012 when you suddenly changed and I found that its better to stay away , I was trying to be sure that you are alive by asking Michael about you when I talk to him , but in the end we stopped talking and that was your desire not my choice…
I just want to be clear about everything , earlier in 2006 I remember I told myself that I will not mind whatever you did to me , and I will forgive you whatever happened and that have not changed anytime , and will not change… I love you , I said it and I meant it , I dont care that you misunderstood me or even treated me badly because of some images about me you created in your mind… I didnt expect something back from you and I didnt thought before about being closer to you , when you wrote to me in 2006 saying :" you are my best friend ya kareem…. " it was an epic moment , and at this time I was just caring about keeping myself in this position without any ambitions of getting closer , but after I went out of jail I found you changed totally… .
I know that you have been through such bad times with bad people , but I don't think that is good excuse ( you dont need any excuses here by the way as I mentioned earlier )… .
But… ..
Rest in peace my "2006 Best friend" , I love you ..
‪#‎RIP_Sahar‬

الاثنين، أبريل 28، 2014

When you told me that you commited sucide several times I got scared of the fact I may lose you , and after that I was only care about being sure you still alive because your existence itself meant a lot to me ....

But now , you gone , and you took my fear with you , forever ...

I don't think I will be afraid of losing someone as I was with you ...

You are amazing Sahar , you gave me and others a power and strength when you was alive , but even when you was going away you refused to go before taking my fear forever with you ...

I loved you , I love you and I will keep loving you until my final breath ...

you also made me not afraid of you when you gone because I don't think I was daring to write such words about you when you was here ....

I have to confess that finding unique and beautiful person as you and falling in love with filled my heart with the same amount of fear , and that i was so careful when I was talking to you , thinking twice before chosing what i think its the right word with so much hesitation , but now I got liberated from all those fears but not from your love which increased until it replaced the space of my heart which the fear you took away with you was situated in…

#RIP_Sahar

الأحد، أبريل 27، 2014

كنت أحلم بأن تزوري مدينتي الجميلة يوما ما ، وآخذك الي قمة جبل فلوين لتشاهدين ما اراه الآن ....
هل كنت لتقعين في غرامها من النظرة الأولي كما وقعت أنا في غرامك وأنكرت علي مشاعري وكذبتها ؟!
‪#‎RIP_Sahar‬

في صيف عام 2006 ذهبت وحدي لمشاهدة آخر أفلام الراحل أحمد ذكي عن قصة الفنان الراحل عبدالحليم حافظ في إحدي قاعات سينما ريالتو بالإسكندرية ...
كنت قد تعرفت الي سهر ووقعت في حبها قبل فترة قصيرة وبعد أن تخطيت عامي الثاني والعشرين بأيام قليلة ، كانت مشاعري تجاهها في أوج تدفقها بشكل لم أستطع معه كتمان الامر لأكثر من ثلاثة أيام مرت علي لقائي الأول بها .....
الفيلم لمن لم يشاهده يتناول بالأساس الجانب الإنساني والشخصي في حياة الفنان الراحل جنبا الي جنب مع تلميحات لعلاقاته برجال السياسة والحكم من معاصرية ، وكان للجانب العاطفي في حياة "حليم" النصيب الأكبر في الفيلم الذي لم أستطع وأنا اتابع مشهد وفاة حبيبته بين يديه منع نهرين من الدموع من الجريان علي وجهي ولحسن الحظ كنت أجلس في الصفوف الأمامية للقاعة بعيدا عن أماكن تمركز المراهقين وهواة الثرثرة والتعليق وقزقزقة اللب في مثل هذه الاماكن ، فكنت أعيش داخل احداث الفيلم دون ان يتدخل اي من السوقة ويفسد علي المتعة الحزينة !!!
بعدها بأيام كنت اتحدث مع سهر عبر برنامج ام اس ان ميسنجر ، وسألتني ان كانت لدي أمنية اود لها أن تتحقق ، سألتها ان كانت قد شاهدت فيلم حليم ، فاجابت بالنفي .. قصصت عليها المشهد الذي أبكاني ، وأخبرتها أن آخر واقصي ما اتمناه في حياتي هو ان اموت بين زراعي من احب كما ماتت حبيبة حليم بين زراعيه !!!
لم تعلق سهر سوي بابتسامة ....

ورحلت بعدها بسنوات .. قبل أن تحقق لي أمنيتي

‪#‎RIP_Sahar‬