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5.11.2006

Sisters of Lebanon


“You shame your family” Hanaan the oldest one cried, “how you dare write a love poem to your lover on the outer envelope, what do you think envelopes are made for? To hide your secrets, to hide our shame, your obscenity, ya 3aybik, ya 3aybik, ya Sihaam”

Sihaam was the middle one with a rebellion spirit and a mutinied black hair that cried to be seen outside the window and beyond the mountain that separated her from Adnan. “It’s MY Life, Hanaan; no one will see the letter”

Hanaan bowed on her knees as she began to bang her forehead to the ground repeatedly, harder each time, as if she was asking for Allah to materialize in the middle between them and snatch the letter from Sihaam’s hardened hand.

The fight kept getting louder. The youngest Sahar sat in the corner along with Hanaan’s five year old eldest son Majed, her arm holding him to contain his terror, half mesmerized by the silliness overcome them, and half filled with envy that she didn’t have anyone of her own to write to.

“majaneen wallah, majaneen” she whispered.

Majed, fighting back tears, couldn’t stand the sight of his mother pleading in agony, or the tears of his favorite aunty weeping for freedom – his fragile six year old frame was about to intervene – how? he didn’t know, but he wanted to end it all. Because if he didn’t, his life will never be the same again. Immobilized with sorrow, his mother will never buy him Raha again and smile as she looks at him taking larger than life bites. If he didn’t stop the fight, Aunty Sihaam will move out of the house and he will never giggle breathlessly again as she spins him faster than the speed of wind in midair.

He stood up and approached the battle field, not knowing what to do, or who to side with, before he even began to think of such things, he ran as fast as his three feet tall mass would allow and snatched the letter from Sihaam’s hand, stuffed it in his mouth, and began to chew.

The sisters suddenly went soundless.

Hanaan looked down at her boy
“Ya Habibi” she said,
and giggled

Sihaam fought back more tears
“I thought I was your favorite Majood!” and ran into her room.

Later that night, Majed, exhausted from mediating, took a long nap and awake to the sound of a rooster out side his window and the smell of coriander frying.

Sleepy eyed, he walked to the kitchen where he saw Sihaam, cheerless, preparing dinner.

He walked and stood next to her and stared at her face, she glimpsed at him with the corner of her eye and kept stirring her spice.

“I know you love, I know you love everyone, and you want everyone to love you, I know you want be happy and go to heaven, I am sorry if I made you mad” he whispered as if he was talking to her on the inside.

She stopped stirring and turned the stove off. Looking angrier than she had before, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the living room, with all of her might, she lifted his small body into midair, spun him half circle to get a hold of his other hand. Her frown turning slowly into a smile, she began to spin him faster than the wind.

Goodbye, my friend.
11:41 AM
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