Mesheee..

The memories in this post have been on my mind for so long, but with the hectic life I have been leading lately I did not have time to write it down. Then, 3eeraqimedic wrote her post and I was reminded of my trip home from school , but again I did not have to write.. so its been delayed for quite some time..
My parents never approved of me walking home..i never understood their fear at the time.. whats wrong with coming home (meshee)?!.. the school wasn’t really far, well ok not that close.. the walk home took me about 30 minutes.. which was a long walk for me at that age.. my school was in an alley that led to the main street, a beautiful crowded noisy, broad street.. I would leave the school and walk to the main street.. filled with excitement and so very proud of myself.. im going home (meshee), which certainly makes me a big girl.. I was 8 or 9 at the time.. I would hang my (Aleeja – that was quite in style at the time !!) heavy with all my books on one shoulder, my hand holding it from falling , the other hand holding my (yomeyya – I think it was 1 Derham at the time.. wooow..!!) tightly..
Once I leave the alley, there used to be a Patisserie shop (not anymore of course).. the wonderful scent of fresh cake would be hanging in the air, attracting me towards the shop like magnet.. (Halaweyyat gold star) it was called – just before they decided to change all names into Arabic.. I would go in, fascinated by the whole experience, buying myself a piece of cake.. I still remember the small space, with me standing in front of the colored lines of square and rectangular cakes.. vanilla and fruit aroma filling the shop.. the (big) boy behind the glass counter following my eyes as they wonder from one colored piece to the other.. they even had cakes decorated with (green !!) cream, don’t know why (or how as a matter of fact!!) I would always go for the green one.. pale mint green.. I can still remember the taste of it.. sweet and creamy.. mmm.. like melted ice cream.. the (big boy) starts to get bored .. as it takes me forever to decide which one to pick.. the pink also looked tasty .. the white was never my favorite..the square ones were tempting.. they looked bigger .. but my eyes would always go back to the green one.. rectangular though it was, which makes it smaller.. well .. ok.. I ll have the green one.. and so I open my small hand , now clammy from tightly clutching the Derham.. and pay for my cake ..it was 15 fils a piece ..!!!! big boy would hand it over half wrapped in a paper napkin.. I take it with great joy.. I thank him and turn to leave.. lucky him .. it must be the nicest thing in the world to work in this cake paradise..
I start my journey back home, walking ever so slowly so as not to drop the cake..i start eating it with such care.. it tasted so good.. I would like to stand an look at the flowers in the flower shop.. but the walk is still long and I shouldn’t be late.. oh and I would love to stop for a little and look at the nice pharmacists .. a man and his wife (I think) working in the famous pharmacy on the block.. still remember their faces..
I walk in a world of my own.. happy with my cake.. never bothered by the crowds and the loud horns.. it would be sunny and the weather is just great.. the sky used to be so blue..like a postcard.. a blue that existed only there, and then.. in Baghdad.. I walk and walk ..and cross the side pavement of the Baghdad fair.. it looked so huge to me then.. my parents used to take us there every year.. and we would go home carrying all sorts of gifts and nice things.. when I reach the colored design of Mataam Farooq, I would then cross the road to the public hadiqa, and im finally in our neighborhood ..
When I arrive at home.. I feel so filled with achievement and satisfaction.. im old enough to go home Meshee.. im a grown up now.. I even buy my own favorite cake.. from my own money ..(yomeyya)..
A scented small shop, a pale green cake, and a walk home .. that’s all it took to make me happy then.. how lucky we were.. how happy and peaceful life was..
We never thought at the time how sad we shall be when we look back years and years later..
We never realized..

Otla Rabieyya..

What made me remember el Otla el Rabieya ?? don’t know.. just another flash back.. is it the weather? Is it the date??
It seems so long ago.. so far away..
When the nightmare of Mid Year Exam ends, the wonderful dreamy days of el Otla starts.. 14 lovely days of freedom, laziness and absolutely No studying.. the weather would usually be fantastic.. still chilly, but it feels like spring..
I remember watching the sun every day once I wake up.. looking out the window.. praying that the sun would be there sending its warmth so as to announce another perfect day of Otla.. I would wake up late, have a long and late breakfast.. Fried eggs would be So favored on these days.. another cup of tea would be so appreciated.. chatting with mama about anything and everything.. of course mama would be up early, finished her breakfast with dad hours ago..and so she would be in the kitchen waiting for me (or us) to wake up , so as to sit with us while eating our Late breakfast.. it sounds like ages ago.. oh it was o much fun..
Being home in the morning was such a special experience.. the sounds that we hear are so old yet so new to us.. Abo el Ghaz with his different musical instruments.. Abo el Nafot with his distinguished tunes !! sounds we never hear usually cause we would b at school or university ..
After breakfast its time for Ghahwa, with lots of Hel in it.. I used to make such special Ghahwa they say.. the taste was great.. I still remember myself making coffee in our kitchen.. the scent was amazing.. i Love ghahwa.. another thing which I stopped making or having now.. don’t know why.. I mean Ghahwa we can find everywhere.. but I stopped drinking it like I used to.. I suppose it stopped tasting the same for me .. like everything else..
Then it would be time for Tarma .. the sun would be pouring its lovely ray over our Tarma.. and so I wouldn’t miss an hour there , with my book in my lap.. sometimes on the Marjooha that we have there.. sometimes on one of Karasee el Nylon.. I used to feel an inner peace like no other then.. Hadiqtna in front of me.. with its beautiful roses.. all kinds.. different colors.. and my special favorite flower.. el Narjis.. oh how I Adore its lovely refreshing perfume.. in Otla , all the Absal I have planted (that was the only thing I helped planting with my own hands) would either be blossoming, or fully opened.. all around Hadiqtna.. fragile white flowers, filling the air with the most beautiful scent ever..
I told u.. in Otla, everything would be filled with color and beauty and serenity .. the world would be a magical one.. a perfect world..
Theer was nothing much going on in my days of Otla, in fact maybe nothing.. but the thrill was there even before it starts.. preparing the books I intend to read once I finish exams, preparing my favorite kinds of Nastala and Charazat.. its all part of the fun.. when I remember Betna now I feel it was in another world.. or maybe what I have in my mind is not real but something I have seen in a dream.. was I there in reality? Did I really once sit in the Marjooha reading ??
Sometimes it gets so hard to differentiate dream from reality..
But I suppose I Was there once.. and Betna was there once..
Unfortunately not any more..