Sameh, one of my very best friends, is getting married today! (all zagharit et autres you-yous are welcome :) a million congratulations to Shery, his lovely bride, and him. I promise to post a photo as soon as I get one.
The thing is, he’s about 6491 km from where I am. So I’ll miss his wedding.
We both know it’s unintentional. He knows that if I could be there, I would have. And I know he wants me to be there.
Yet I’ll miss it. I’ll be studying some stupid microeconomics (sorry, Nolan) instead!
Is that what distance is all about? Missing big events in the life of the people you love?
Second thoughts... Nope, that's not it. Hey, it’s a memorable night and I’d kill to be there (I also wanted to show off my new cool necktie :) but it’s just an evening. I’ll get the photos in a few days.
Naaaah... being away is rather missing the little things. Is missing the phone call from the exact same friend who is asking for your advice on whether he should propose to his girlfriend. It’s not seeing your niece being born and growing up, but rather seeing her as cute 5 years old little lady. It’s missing the new billboard in Tahrir square which we joked about. It’s not getting the ugly and pro-government newspaper every morning and reading the final and the sports page, and perhaps the international politics page (sometimes :) to find something to discuss
It’s not sharing people’s everyday problems in the street. Forgetting how hard it is to cross
It’s getting there in the summer vacation for four days, and finding that you don’t remember which bus takes you to your old school.
It’s an odd feeling.
Being in a new place, you will find odd places that, soon enough, will be part of your daily life. (Dixit “L’Auberge Espagnole” which is an excellent French film that it so good it’s actually available at blockbusters and netflix: ‘After a while, we’d have lived this town, we’d have walked those streets. We’d have known those buildings, lived stories with people. And after a while, it all belongs to you because you’d have lived in it.”
The problem is, my dear Xavier (the dude in L’Auberge), is that when you live that other town for too long, you may lose the other one...
I’m starting to make no sense, so I’ll stop for tonight.
A final joke, special for Sam and the married or betrothed among you: In a man’s funeral, women dress in black, mourning his life. Men know better - they dress in black during his wedding ;o)
No comments:
Post a Comment