spy4me
2011-07-24, 18:59
Man in dust by spy4me
He hardly could walk to his wooden chair and sat, he looked around the place and released a deep breath, then took out his glasses from the upper left pocket of his shirt and started reading a newspaper written in French, and sometimes he smiled sarcastically putting his shaky forefinger upon a headline in the political page.
Mister Ahmed, “the heart of lion”, that was the name he was famous with among his friends during the revolution war. An old man with shining intellect and perky sense of humour, the wrinkles on his front hide a lot of memories.
He held his body into a big picture on the wall and stared at it for a while and then, he took out a red handkerchief and wiped away his tears. His wife was the apple of his eyes, the only one who stood by him and was his she.lter in the hard times, she died of cancer few years ago, Ahmed still remember his promise to her, to take care of the little boy Ali, an orphan used to serve the couple . Along this period, Ali learned how to live in that social turmoil and all those contradictions of life. Uncle Ahmed liked to hear the voice of Ali reading some books for him, at the end he says “god bless you son”. Uncle Ahmed has only one son living in France and rarely could talk to him.
One day he called Ali and asked him to sit by his side: “you know son, the life is no longer than it used to be, everything has changed, even people themselves, we were a community, one mass living in love and harmony, if someone absents, all we feel the gap and ask about them, we used to share the happy moments as the same the sad ones, we complain to each other, we give helping hand to people in need, all give charity even the poor, we did not know the meaning of cheating ,embezzlement or nepotism, all we were the same with simple and traditional way of life but that defined us, we, with our own true identity, we ate what we planted, wore what we sewed and we never thought to give up this fact or to change it, and if you asked someone of us, he’d say ‘I have the world’. And now son, you can go outside and see what the change means for people; is to leave their identity in the name of development, so pathetic son! “
.....................the end...................
http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/36944/batran_in_toiag.jpg
hoping you like it and waiting your replies
He hardly could walk to his wooden chair and sat, he looked around the place and released a deep breath, then took out his glasses from the upper left pocket of his shirt and started reading a newspaper written in French, and sometimes he smiled sarcastically putting his shaky forefinger upon a headline in the political page.
Mister Ahmed, “the heart of lion”, that was the name he was famous with among his friends during the revolution war. An old man with shining intellect and perky sense of humour, the wrinkles on his front hide a lot of memories.
He held his body into a big picture on the wall and stared at it for a while and then, he took out a red handkerchief and wiped away his tears. His wife was the apple of his eyes, the only one who stood by him and was his she.lter in the hard times, she died of cancer few years ago, Ahmed still remember his promise to her, to take care of the little boy Ali, an orphan used to serve the couple . Along this period, Ali learned how to live in that social turmoil and all those contradictions of life. Uncle Ahmed liked to hear the voice of Ali reading some books for him, at the end he says “god bless you son”. Uncle Ahmed has only one son living in France and rarely could talk to him.
One day he called Ali and asked him to sit by his side: “you know son, the life is no longer than it used to be, everything has changed, even people themselves, we were a community, one mass living in love and harmony, if someone absents, all we feel the gap and ask about them, we used to share the happy moments as the same the sad ones, we complain to each other, we give helping hand to people in need, all give charity even the poor, we did not know the meaning of cheating ,embezzlement or nepotism, all we were the same with simple and traditional way of life but that defined us, we, with our own true identity, we ate what we planted, wore what we sewed and we never thought to give up this fact or to change it, and if you asked someone of us, he’d say ‘I have the world’. And now son, you can go outside and see what the change means for people; is to leave their identity in the name of development, so pathetic son! “
.....................the end...................
http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/36944/batran_in_toiag.jpg
hoping you like it and waiting your replies