It’s the rainbow season in Amman. You know with the rain/shine weather people are starting to see rainbows more often here and there, I saw more than one post in the blogosphere about this, which made me think of the first time I saw a rainbow. Rainbows are fascinating things, a colorful illustration of nature and a great symbol of how there’s always something good to look forward to after every adversity. Yet, most people I assume come to be familiar with rainbows as children through cartoons. Personally, I haven’t seen a real rainbow until I was probably 10. It was a stormy day. My mother’s aunt had just passed away and my parents were at the wake, leaving my sister, brother and me at home. I can’t remember what year exactly was that but I’d say my eldest sister was around 13, I was 10 and my brother was 6, something in that vicinity. The storm began raging outside, the rain was pouring and the wind was blowing against a small window in the laundry room. We started to panic, I don’t know why exactly but we were really scared and before we knew it we were crying like we’re in the middle of a nuclear war. We were utterly terrified, I remember that my sister was weeping and saying: “Our science teacher died this week, mom’s aunt died this week and it seems like we’re going to die too!” NOT HELPING!! Well, looking back at this I think that either she was terrified of the concept of death due to the death of her teacher, or she was enjoying seeing us suffer. Well, I think that in this context the former explanation makes more sense, although we enjoyed seeing each other suffer as kids when we thought it would do no harm. I can’t remember exactly whether the storm had subsided before my father came home or the other way around. All I know is that the weather calmed down just as we relaxed, had lunch and watched a movie we already recorded on tape, it was called “Buried Alive” or some such horrifying name, then we huddled over the window to see, for the first time as far as I’m concerned, the beautiful rainbow that was formed as the storm bid us farewell. It wasn’t like the one we used to see in “Sunbol” but it was truly a sight for the sore eyes, which makes me think now that it’s probably not the rainbow alone that puts a smile on your face, but the storm that preceded it, and the harsher the storm is, the more beautiful the rainbow is in the eye of the beholder.
As some of you might know I have expressed how I feel about roses before, and about people trying to sell me roses, but today I realized how serious this could be, to the point that I’m willing to admit that I do need help… Today as I was stopping at the traffic lights with a million things on my mind, I saw a boy selling some kind of a long flowers, I think they were carnations or something. As he stood by the window trying to talk/mime me into buying some I insisted that I didn’t want any, but he didn’t seem to take no for an answer, and since I was so stubborn he resorted to some subtle solution as if to force me to buy the flowers. He cut a snippet from the tip of the very very long flower and tuck it under the wiper blade on the windscreen, and told me that it only costs 1 JD. I was like FIIIIIIINE!! (Bearing in mind that I’m strongly against this style of sales that is pretty much like begging) So, I opened the window to hand him the money and was just about to tell him what he did was salbata (can’t find the right word in English), but before I could say anything he handed me the flowers. Of course, seeing how big those flowers are and given the fact that I’m really not a big fan of buying flowers for no occasion I freaked out and told him I didn’t want them, but he didn’t seem to care because he just stormed off, leaving me dangling the flowers out of the window, shouting for him to come back and confused as to what I should do with them. But there wasn’t much time to think, I had to decide before the green light was on, and what do you know? I throw them on the ground. Yes, I did. I even looked at the flower tucked under the wiper and thought of grabbing it and throwing it on the ground too, but I thought that would be too sick and too callous. Sensing I did something wrong I looked around me to see if anyone was judging this environment unfriendly act, and in the rear view mirror I saw a man in a taxi looking fairly puzzled. As I drove on, I looked at the flower under the wiper, thinking that this looks like something nice, a sweet gesture. But it wasn’t long before the gushing wind blew by, and tore it away.
What’s up with people and roses? Look, I have nothing against roses as a gaift. Well, as a matter of fact, I do. I mean, it’s nice when it’s from someone special on some special occasion, say, AN ANNIVERSARY, along with a real gift of course. I mean come on! I’m not materialistic, I’m telling you I’m not, but when it’s a real occasion I’m sure nobody expects to get a lonely bouquet of flowers, and if any girl said she would be okay with it, I’m telling you she’s probably living in her own freaking world. Darn those stupid romance movies and cheap novels… Okay, that’s about special occasions and special people. Fine, but what about all the roses at weddings and hospital rooms? Hasn’t it ever occurred to anyone that “What on earth am I supposed to do with all those flowers?”… I get it, they look nice and all, a sight for the sore eye, but really you have to throw them away at some point! I mean, you could’ve brought them something they could actually cause and won’t use such a mess when it starts to dry up. And oh, some might argue that preferring chocolate over flowers is gluttonous, but think about it: if your husband got you a box of chocolate, it may very well mean that he doesn’t think you’r fat or need to lose weight, now that is romantic! And then you hear about people spending thousands of dollars on flowers in weddings. I’m not going to talk about the hungry masses in Africa, but let’s just reflect on this very valid question: “Would you prefer a 15,000 JD’s worth of roses for a gift, or a 15,000 diamond ring?” Well, personally, if someone gave me these choices, I would really love to say this to him: get a life! I mean, it’s out of question that a 15,000 JD’s worth of roses is beyond ridiculous, even if you called it the most romantic thing on earth. It’s not romantic, it’s stupid and indicates serious psychological issues (delusions and stuff)… Yet, at the same time, I wouldn’t be so proud of myself wearing a 15,000 JD’s diamond ring. How is that supposed to make me feel any good? It will only make me feel like a selfish, indifferent show-off. And please don’t tell me it looks good in your hand! A knockoff ring would look just as beautiful in any hand, so why would anyone walk around with 15,000 JD’s in her finger? I’ve lost enough rings to know that this would be one of the most stupid things I would, if I ever could, do in my life. And no, I’m not interested in stashing jewelry away so I can boast them in front of my friends or sell them later on, not exactly that kind of hoarder… So, if that “imaginary person” insists on buying me a gift that’s worth 15,000 JD’s for whatever reason, I think a car would be nice. That’s something you can use and other people can use too, so that way you can actually feel good about yourself, somehow. Besides, a person who buys you a car is a smart person! Not just a hopeless romantic or a materialistic freak. That’s a person you go for… I mean that’s the way I see it. Anyway, let me know if you find that person. Good luck with that! Before I wrap this up I’d like to point out a phenomenon that I personally find bugging. Picture this: I’m in the car stopping at the traffic light, alone, and then this street vendor approaches me asking me to buy some roses. I tell him I’m not interested in buying any roses but he insists by saying that roses are nice and so on. Now I don’t know about you but I’m not the kind of person who buys roses for herself. I mean, girls like to receive roses not to buy it themselves! I know some girls would buy it for their mothers and stuff, but how many girls at traffic lights going home from work on any given day would do that? If they want roses, they can call you, no need for the awekwardness that surrounds that! Off topic, why do these boys insist on calling the driver “the parent” of the person riding shotgun? Anyway, perhaps I should stop since by now I probably blew out my chances of getting any roses from anyone, I guess, unless they were trying to be funny maybe. Well, it’s not that funny, so there you go… 
You know how it’s like when it’s been a hard day at work, a dull day, and nothing-out-of-the-ordinary kind of day or whatever it is that makes the slightest nice gesture of any given stranger brighten up your day. I don’t remember when exactly, but it was months ago, sometime last winter. I was leaving work with a friend and we were waiting for the elevator. I was rambling on about something, I don’t remember what it was exactly but I think I was being a bit dramatic and I was facing my friend with my back to the elevator. As I heard the elevator’s door slide open, without looking I turned around while I was finishing a sentence and was about to dash into the elevator when I lift my head up to see that I was just about to bump into someone who was coming out of the elevator. I was startled so I said nothing, not even a “sorry” or a smile of apology. You may imagine that in such case, since I was the clumsy one who almost hit the guy and didn’t bother hersself with common courtesy, not that I had time to so that, you may think that this guy could’ve said something like “watch where you’re going” or at least worked up one of those yellow smiles and walked away. Instead, a wide small was drawn across his face, a genuine one that says "It's okay". Not only that, he even said, “I’m sorry”. He actually apologized for my clumsiness! He then walked away and I was like, “some people are really nice!”. When I went home, out of no where, I found myself saying to my brother: “You know really there are some people who are really really nice.” I’m not sure if he heard what I said but if he did I don’t think he knew where I was coming from. I know it may seem like an exaggeration but that very short encounter and that smile from that stranger really had a huge impact on me. Sometimes when I think of those things I wonder if maybe I can have this impact on any random person, a child maybe. Who knows? Maybe a smile or a nod may restore confidence to an old woman, or boos the spirit of a troubled teenager. I know I’m being dramatic but there are many dramatic people out there who may believe this is very possible. I don’t know why I decided to share this story now. But you know, sometimes you just need it. Be it something funny you read on the back of a truck, a chubby child wrapped up in an overall, smiling and toddling like a penguin, a friend sharing their chocolate with you, whatever it is, you need it, and most importantly, you need to pay attention to it because it’s always, always there.
I have a dream. Start. Programmes. Microsoft Word. New word document. Blank. Thought a hot herbal drink would help. Sipping on the huge silver mug, the page remained blank. Right brain hemisphere in action, nothing. It slowly begins to drift away. It’s around 8:30. What movie should I watch tonight? “Yeah, yeah yeah.” A voice disrupted the thought. “Keep sipping on that mint-ginger-cinnamon or whatsoever you’re drinking and forget all about me!” The sound was loud and clear. It was coming from somewhere near. So near that soon I was sure it was coming from inside my head. It’s in my head, established. But, who is it? Oh, no! it’s what’s-his-face again! “Haven’t I kicked you out today and told you you’re not welcome here? You’ve been messing enough with my head and I won’t allow it any more.” “Oh, I knew it. You’ve marginalized me so much that you can’t even recognize me!” The voice replied, louder and clearer. “Remember the poor kid who you decided would grow up to be a sociopath?” It, or she, didn’t need to say more. I knew who it was just then. “Of course I remember you, Maya!” I said with a sheepish smile. “It’s just that it’s been a while and I have a lot on my mind.” “Of course you do.” She fired back. “Whom I to blame you anyway? After all, you’re the writer, those blank pages are your kingdom. You go ahead and write those paragraphs that don’t even fill half a page, decide I was emotionally abused as a kid, make me grow up to be some freak, keep me stuck there and go ahead with your life! Just leave me there and forget all about me! Be consumed by your silly daydreams and weird guesses and leave me to rot. After all, I’m nothing but a fancy character you created on a whim.” “I know.” I said, even more sheepishly. “I’m sorry I ditched you like that but you know you’re not the only one.” “Oh! I suppose you mean the clueless brat and her stuck-up sister. What happened to that story by the way?” “First, she’s not a brat. And you have no right to speak to me like that.” “Excuse you! I do. In fact, I have the right to come out and smack you right on the face!” “Watch your tongue! All it takes is a Back Space and you’ll be a non-existent. Where do you get off talking to me like that? You’re nothing. You’re not even a name on a piece of paper. You’re nothing more that a few digits put together.” “I beg to differ.” She cried defiantly. “You know as well as I know where I came from. You know I’m in your head because I’m a part of your entity.” “A part I’m more than willing to delete.” “You can’t just delete me, you cranky snob! What the heck have you been trying to do for the past, let’s see, month or so? You can’t just get rid of me. You have to finish my story. You have to give me an end” “Oh, some end that could be!” “What? Don’t tell me you’ll kill me, just like you did with Dalia. That poor thing!” “Nah, you’re not death material” “Death material? What is that supposed to mean?” “Some characters have to die for the story to be meaningful. I meant for Dalia to die from the first beginning. Death is quite intriguing you know.” “Oh crap! What are you a death Nazi?” “I’m not a death Nazi you silly thing.” “Well then, I’ll tell you something. I’m fed up with you and your mood swings, just give me any end you want, even if I had to be executed in a gas chamber. I’m sick of this.” “Gas chamber? What are you from World War I? Relax. I told you you’re not death material. But wait and see what miss “Cranky snob” has in store for you.” “Correction, again! It’s not what’s in store for me, I have nothing to gain from all of this. You don’t want people reading and cussing you out or feeling they could face the same end. You’re not that mean.” “You think so?” “I don’t think! You do the math for me. Now, are you going to finish that story or what?” “Well, I think we’ll have to wait.” “I’ve been waiting for ages.” “Sorry, I have to put you on hold for now.” “You can’t just leave me like this!” The voice began to fade away little by little. The page wasn’t blank anymore but Maya was still stuck with a sociological complex and a camera. What will happen to Maya? I’m still not sure, but I sure hope it all ends well, better than how it began.
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