by Zoha Kazemi
Tirad walks in front of his hut, brooding. His wide frown shows his inner struggles and thoughts that he is not sure which direction they would lead him to. He hears the beautiful melody of the oud that silences the hum in his head for a few seconds. He stands in front of Asin’s shop and looks inside from the small window on the wall. Asin and her student are sitting on stools with an oud in their hands. There are wood chunks and tools on the shelves and by the walls and some fine instruments are put on the showcase. Tirad enters the shop. The young man stops playing. Tirad is careful not to kick the raw wooden bowls that are not painted yet. He apologises for his interference and wants them to carry on. He takes an oud from the showcase and caresses it with his fingers. The oud makes a squeaking sound as he touches the strings, annoying Asin and her student. Tirad takes the oud in his arms and Turns to Asin.
“I would like to learn!” he says. Asin smiles at him and offers him a seat next to her young student.