Somewhere! (Hunaak!)
Page 8
“How do I become creative then?” — I asked.
“Set your imagination free!” — he said.
“To fly as fast as the wind?” — I asked.
“No!” — He said.
“Huh?” — I asked.
“Faster than the wind, faster than lightning, to fly in the sky!” — He yelled at me.
“I understand! Your brain must fly outside the box!” — I said.
“No! Out of every box is another larger box! You must learn to move amongst boxes when you need them, and get rid of them all together when they are in the way! That is the first step… and the most important!” — He said.
I was so trying my best to write everything he was saying as fast as I could.
“What is the second step?” — I quickly asked.
He picked up my notebook and pointed to it.
“This! Ideas in your head are like the pigeons that flew when you tried catching them, the only way to capture your ideas is to document them before the flee from you and someone else captures them!” — he said.
He handed me back my notebook and I quickly wrote down what he said along with a simple sketch of the pigeons so that I would never forget that moment. He showed me his drawings, writings and thoughts, this man truly never stops thinking and writing down his thoughts, his ideas were ahead of his time by ages… simply because he had not haltered his wild brain’s movement! I was so dazzled by his work.
“Mr. Leonardo the inventions that you had drawn have seen the light centuries after your time!” — I added.
“I know! How unfortunate! People had taken so long to make them because they were too busy accusing me of being crazy instead of improving on my ideas!” — He said.
“I think these people have made you suffer a lot!” — I added.
“On the contrary, you must feel excited and honored when the foolish say you are crazy! They will never stop unless you become a fool yourself” — he quickly responded.
“Mr. Leonardo, are there other important steps for the growth of creativity?” — I asked.
“Thank you!” — he responded.
“Huh?” — I said.
“Thank you for respecting creativity and choosing the word -growth- sure creativity is a creature that lives in the depths of your soul, it is born out of passion and grows with continuous work!” — he said and continued.
“I read everything about you Husam, you think you have passion for a lot of disciplines, don’t you?!” — he continued.
I nodded as I wished he would not embarrass me by going through the details of my lazy washout life, but he did.
“Yet, you have only mastered playing cards and computer games! There is a huge difference between those who love art and collect expensive paintings and those who live to draw them even if they died of starvation. There is no comparison between those who love music, sports or movies and those who compose, win championships or the Oscars!” — he added.
“Mr. Leonardo, to you, Creativity is to win championships and collect prizes?” — I asked.
“Would you dare consider yourself Creative in any given field without out-achieving everyone else?” — he asked.
“Then, I must raise the bar of my ambition. I remember the saying 'Persist to get to the Moon. Even if you fail, you shall not miss out on the stars!’” — I said.
“Who said that ambition needs a bar? Only laggards echo such words as preemptive excuses for their upcoming failures!” — he added.
Mr. Leonardo was moving towards one of the towers on the far edges of the castle while I was following him around like a lost kid. As we climbed the stairs to the top of the tower, I felt as if he wanted to get rid of me or maybe even throw me off of the top of that tower because of all of my smart ass interruptions. With every word he said, he shock many of my previous convictions.
“Passion alone is delusion, work alone is a waste of time, creativity without any of them is a cripple, can you climb these stairs on one foot?” — He asked.
He was jumping up those stairs with such energy that it did not —at all— correlate with his gray hair. I was barely able to keep up with his speed, I would almost faint and so would my brain as I tried writing down everything he said. I had to interrupt him many times just to keep up.
“Surely I must walk with passion and hard work to make it to the top!” — I said.
“I told you there are neither bars nor summits! You must walk as fast as you can without rest before he catches you!” — he said.
“Before my competition catches me?” — I tried to clarify.
“Before death catches you!” — he exclaimed.
I now declare my despair of ever-guessing the correct answer to any of his statements! He continued as we reached the top of the tower.
“Creativity, Husam, is an endless race. If you start, you must never stop until you master it! Or death beats you to it!” — Mr. Leonardo said.
“I guess this is why you are the Master of Art, Creativity and Invention of all times!” — I said.
“All times? Times have not yet ended!” — he said.
“Your hint lays a huge burden on our shoulders!” — I added.
“On your shoulders alone! Do not avoid your responsibility! Had I had a camera, I would have captured those pigeons in a blink; had I had a voice recorder, I would not have wasted my time writing; had I had the Internet, I would have shaved-off years of study and research; had I had a computer, my manuscripts would not have been lost and my paintings would have never faded! How I envy your times! And how I am angered by your excuses! You have no excuse for thousands of Leonardos appearing and being ahead of their times!” — he added.
As he finished that sentence, we had arrived to the Antiques Room atop of the tower. He extended his hand inviting me to the fancy table filled with delicious delights
“You must be getting hungry by now Mr. Husam” — he added.
“An invite to the last supper!” — I replied.
“The first and last supper!” —he responded as he smiled to my witty hint.
“What an honor this is…” — I said only to pause as I launched my attack on the platters. I was truly hungry and continued my statement “…that I am invited into the master piece that forced the world into modern art!”
“Stop your flattery Husam, I believe that the mental and physical exhaustion you have gone through deserves this feast.” — he added.
“The exhaustion will vanish when I achieve my dreams Mr. Leonardo!” — I added.
He shook his head denying what I said as he picked up a soft piece of hot bread and split it in half.
“It is inappropriate to mention dreams and exhaustion in the same sentence! You are never exhausted when you are following your dreams. Great people are only exhausted by slackers! Your dreams, Son, are like this feast: you could never take them all down in one shot. You must enjoy achieving them piece by piece. This is a source of joy that can only be exhausted by your own death!” — he added just before eating the piece of bread.
“I understand! I will execute! Of course, so long as if I can actually make it back to my world and my times!” — I said.
Mr. Leonardo smiled. I finally understood! I closed my notebook after I wrote down his last words and put the notebook into my jacket’s pocket.
“You will make it back!” — he added.
Mr. Leonardo stood up and crossed the room towards a wide window with one of his contraptions sitting in front of it. It was fully covered with clothes that he removed slowly to show a prototype of a glider that he had built on his own.
“Come Husam, you must start the race now!” — he added.
Understanding where this was headed, I picked up my hat and leaned-in with respect. I threw my hat from the window.
“The only person I will allow to beat me is ME! This is my promise to you Mr. Leonardo!” — I said as I got into the glider.
I jumped out of the window without hesitatio
n. I did not care about the height nor the rocks of the hills around me nor the valley beneath. I was being lifted by my passions, by the wind and by Leonardo’s words which followed me as he stood on the edge of the window and yelled so that I would hear him:
“Never forget Husam… I do not draw nor invent, I only create without stop! Let the creativity flow from the depths of your mind and soul, never ignore it. Let it fall after that onto anything whatsoever… be it a painting, a symphony, a word or an idea… just create! Create without limit or end!” — he yelled.
I smiled as I listened to the echo of his words, simple words from a great man that changed my ideas on everything! I felt a flood of creativity about to explode! I noticed that the wagon was approaching the castle below me. Malak had also noticed me as she popped her head out of the wagon’s windows and waved at me. I managed to land next to her, Malak ran towards me and hugged me while asking:
“So… how was it?” — she asked.
I pulled out my notebook and waved it in front of her with pride.
“After what I have learned here, I do not think I need to learn anything else! I wish I knew how I could thank Mr. Leonardo… or how I could thank you Malak!!” — I said.
Malak blushed as I completed my sentence and she kept a silent smile. She grabbed my arm and led me into the wagon. I filled my eyes with her view as she sat next to me, while she was hiding her exhaustion with her smile, I thought to myself that she had not had any rest since I stormed into her world. Malak heard what was bouncing in my head —as she usually did— and she then leaned her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. Does she not deserve kindness after all that she has done for me? does she no deserve my love? I let my arms that surrounded her answer that question as my fingers stroked the locks of her hair.
(7)
My soul’s cords
I spent a bit over two decades of my life in school classrooms, this was more than seven thousand days! Everyday kicked the next… all of them kicking me out in the end with —but a few— stamped and sealed papers that are worthless as they were missing the most important stamp of them all: the fat embroidered seal of the letter W (for Wasta, in Arabic, meaning connections)!
But here, I learned everything in a few short hours. Here I learned that learning is not by bombarding information, nor by stuffing it into old ragged socks that are filled with holes. Learning is fitness and an art that allows you to reach the needed information fast, to absorb, formulate and link it with other pieces of information in a creative way to utilize and use it in the best possible manner. What I learned that was even more important! I learned that I am important!
Very important and self-respecting! Not my origins, class, lineage, clan or -again- my connections! If they only taught us those two lines before they stuffed our heads with fast evaporating short expiry date subjects!
The wagon took us away from Leonardo’s Castle. I will never call him ‘da Vinci’ after today! Malak surrendered her head to my chest. As she closed her eyes, the wind raced through the window to join my fingers dancing around her hair. With it, it carried the fragrances gifted to it by the fields of flowers all around us. My vision of everything my gaze came upon has changed after Mr. Leonardo’s words, I now saw things with much more clarity, brightness and beauty… I was now passionate about everything. My eyes would dive into the details of the details to enjoy every hint of beauty the magnificent creator had cast upon this universe!
Although we were moving fast, I was enjoying the painting created by the velvet flower petals. I was contemplating each flower individually. I’d smile at their eagerness to steal a glance of Malak’s face whose beauty far exceeded that of the flowers. I saw their colors blend and decided to reach out the window. I picked one up, thus granting its wishes to come closer to Malak. I tucked the flower between Malak’s hair locks and she gently smiled.
“Malak? Are you asleep?” — I whispered.
I feared that my voice would break her nap. She lazily opened her eyes. The shy tear was still hanging onto her lashes; her smile had not yet parted with her lips and she looked at me with such emotion that pierced my soul. Her joy of being by my side; her pain from my departure; her tranquility with me; her fear for me; her exhaustion because of me. She nodded as she closed her eyes and pushed her face deeper into my chest. We had arrived… but she did not open her eyes, she was not asleep, as her smile gave her away. Malak forced me to forget the pile of complexes that I used to suffer from. I shall not let her return alone! I carried my child in my arms, like a bride in her puffy dress. I always wondered, if I would be able to carry my bride on my wedding night. Even if I could, would I not look funny with my short figure and bloated belly? That terrifying premonition made me wish that I could return to my world in this body… only if it could be with this elegant body!
I set my doll on the bed and raced to my court, I had a huge internal drive to implement what I had just learned. There was a flood of energy flowing from my soul. As I looked for an outlet, it was not hard to find the drawing application on the computer. I was standing in front of a three dimensional screen that was almost as tall as I was or maybe a bit taller. I was surrounded with all of the tools I needed to virtually draw, paint or sculpt. In my mind, I had only one image that creeped its way to occupy my being: Malak’s gaze and smile as her head laid on my chest.
I started waving my hand in the empty three dimensional space and I quickly and skillfully handled the drawing program’s tools, more accurately it was a “sculpting” program. I was sculpting all the details and weaved them into a three dimensional image full of life in all of its aspects: the painting was looking at me, it was breathing, I could see my reflection in her eyes, her lashes dancing with the breeze. I could not tell how much time I spent absorbed into my master piece, it was as if I was in a coma that I awakened from after I was done.
Malak’s voice brought me back, she was standing right behind me and was looking at my painting and she shed a silent tear. I turned towards her and her tear dropped from her eyelashes. She placed her head again on my chest. This had became her sanctuary as she collapsed between her gasps and gentle moans.
“I love you Husam! I swear to God I cannot live without you!” — Malak whispered.
“Malak! Come back with me to my world!” — I told her as I held her by her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
“Could you imagine that? I wouldn't hesitate for a moment if I could!” — she said.
“There must be a way! There surely is a way!” — I added.
She raised her head as she wiped off her tears streaming down her face and pink nose with her arm. She tried to lighten up the mood as she pointed to the three dimensional painting that was floating behind me.
“Hmm… was your visit with Mr. Leo fruitful?” - She asked.
“Ah… this was my first experiment…” - I added.
“Experiment? Don’t sell yourself short! She is more beautiful than I am!” — she said.
“I stand in front of you to say that there is nothing in the world that is more beautiful than you! Not even your own picture!” — I added.
“You also learned poetry and flirting?!” —Malak said with visible fondness.
“All the art, poetry and flirting of this world could not give justice to one look from your eyes!” — I said.
My onslaught of flirtatious comments took her by surprise. I decided to ease on them and change the subject.
“Something has baffled me since I got here… how do I know the time? What time is it?” — I asked Malak.
“Why do you ask?” — Malak asked in response.
“What do you mean why do I ask? I want to know how long I have been away from my family? I want to know night from day! When do I wake up? When do I sleep? When do I pray?” — I said.
“You can sleep, wake up and pray whenever you feel like it!” — She responded.
“OK since I’ve been here, how long has time lapsed?” — I asked.
“And based on my world’s time?” — I asked.
“Two minutes and fifty height seconds!” — she responded.
“Wait.. what? Is that possible? All of this in just two minutes? And how did you measure it so accurately?” — I asked.
“Can you stop with the questions already?” —she said.
“OK, but do you know what direction is Makkah?” — I asked.
“No… I have no idea how to find that from here!” — she said.
“Sorry for asking… but do you even pray?” — I said it with spontaneity but she got really upset. Who wouldn’t —really— from such a private question?
“Sure! All has been taught to pray and praise!” — she answered me decisively.
I was not offended by her verbal slap; I felt I deserved it! I made my oblation… and prayed a few Rakas towards what I thought would be the most probable direction, as Malak sat on the edge of the bed watching me:
“May God accept your prayer.” — she said.
“God bless you!” — I responded with the accent of a summer camp boy.
“You forgot to say sister” — she added.
Her wit always manages to buy her some slack but when her pranks go too far, I have to admit, so does her beauty!
“Come on, quickly take a shower and stop slaking!” — she said.
I went to the bathroom to take off these strange clothes and took a quick bath. When I exited the shower, she was not there, instead I found a set of new clothes that she had clearly carefully picked, a white embroidered shirt, a collar and a black velvet suit with something that looked like a neck tie. I did not face much difficulty putting them on. After what I have been through to put on the mid-ages attire, nothing else seemed difficult.
I suddenly heard knocking at the door… could Malak have gone to change and come back this fast? I got my answer from the voice coming from the outside.
“Open the door Husam, this is Khaled” — Khaled said.