Tri ru rum….ti ti rum…..am walking away….from the troubles in my life…am walking away…to find a better day….am walking away….
What a great song…..I think I will have some type of addiction on it. I’ve already had withdrawal symptoms from it. I came craving for it. And it seems that I need a more dose of it today.
The most far memory I have is that we were in a car. Me, my father, and my mother. My sister was not born yet. I must be below 4 years old. Cause when I was 4 years and a half my sister was born. Is it possible to remember that far? Anyway. I remember I was in the backseat. Fairouz was singing “A hadeer il bousta” in the car’s radio. We were near Baghdad international gallery between Al Hartheya and Al Mansour. In a corner there was a restaurant called EL NASAEM. In its garden there were colored circles of lights. Red, yellow, blue, green, and white. I liked them a lot. Now every now and then when I hear that song of Fairouz I remember those lights. My mother was young and energetic. My father was teaching at secondary school but at the same time he was studying art at evening. I asked them why we did not go to that restaurant. I cannot remember what they answered.
I cannot remember something else till am 5 years old. Me, my mother, and my aunt went to Jordan to unknown cause to me. We went to Al Aqaba beach. I knew Zina, a girl of my age. Her mother became my mother’s friend. They were alone. We became neighbors at hotel. I remember my mom said something about me loving Zina. I was so bothered and annoyed by that and told her that I only like her. The little Sami said something like: “Zina is just a friend…..A FRIEND….I do not plan to marry her mama”.
I remember, and am sure of that, I loved her mother. I was so embarrassed when they put me on the table and tell me to stand up there so that we took a picture. They surrounded me. My mother, Zina’s mother, and my aunt were standing around the table while am standing above the table. I refused to stand there. I object, but they did not listen. The little Sami said to himself: “they treat me as a child. Why they put me to stand above the table. Why don’t they stand above the table like me. Why they surround me like idiots. Even Zina’s mother is smiling. Am I short to be put on the table? Do they think they are more mature than me?”
I was so embarrassed that I still remember that till now. When they did not listen to my objections I became quite and looked at the camera with a faked facial expression.
I remember one day, before leaving Al Aqaba, my mother asked me to bring back the white radio with that red line in the middle of it from Zina’s mother. I went to their room. Their door was opened. I froze. Zina’s mother was sitting, with her back on the door, while the radio was behind her. I froze again. I cannot remember what she was wearing but I always ask my self this question: “for the God’s sake, what she was wearing?”. A question that is abnormally recurrent. I think her dress affected my little heart. I froze again and again like a statue. Till she, without turning her head, said: “sami, why you stop like that? Come here”.
I went inside her room. My memory tells me that something like this dialogue runs between us:
- Sami, I wanna ask you
- Sami, you will tell me the truth.
- Do you love me?
- I came to take the radio.
- I know, but tell me, do you love me?
- My mother wants her radio.
I cannot remember what happened later. I swear I cannot remember.