3 years later, I took the train to
Munich for the exact same reason: to see my friend Sadaf and share 3-years worth
of memories like we did last time.
The moment I stepped into the
train, picked a seat that seemed familiar, placed my big suitcase in front of
me like I always do and sat down waiting for a 'déjà-vu' that never came; I
realized that nothing else was the same.
I was sitting down holding a
greenish/creamy colored basketball (a gift from my dear friend Nagi who thought
it was ridiculously ridiculous that I never owned one ), flipping it from one
hand to the other, trying to remember the good old days and how it felt like to
be a player.
I tried to remember my shooting style, remember where exactly I
used to place both my hands, then suddenly it struck me that something about my
fingers was not the same: that golden marriage ring!
I starred at the ring for a while
as if I haven't noticed it before, then we both started a conversation that
lasted an entire hour.
3 years ago, I was ecstatic about
going to Germany all by myself, very much looking forward to rate my first
travel-planning attempt. I remember how great it felt to be away, and how I
never felt the urge to go back. Traveling has always been much more
accommodating in a weird sense. Much more challenging, much less judging.
However, quite selfish: a companion that necessitates cutting all those long
term strings with anyone, anywhere and anything. A little devil that whispers
to your ears describing all those things you are missing out on right
now.
My little ring turned to me and
asked me something about my past and future: asked me whether it was more
exciting back then when i was looking forward to buying a brand new
sleeping bag, or right now that I'm looking forward to buying my wedding dress?
I knew the question wasn't
materialistic but rather deep; a question about belonging!!
In other words: is there something
worth coming back home to?
I knew I had the answer, but for
the sake of killing time decided to entertain that thought.
Back in the old days, I felt my
heart and soul were FREE: in other words, quite able to do anything anytime. My
decisions didn't affect that many people; probably just my parents. Back then;
life was more about 'having' and 'achieving', but not 'feeling' and 'being'. It
was only till a year and a half back that I realized how incomplete that was
for me, and even sooner how tasteless it is when you know there is nothing
that's truly mine. It was then that I remembered what Ahmed Loay, one of my
former bosses once told me but I didn’t quite understand:' Family is all what
matters. Everything else is secondary'.
During the past 10 days here in
Germany, I never felt like I wanted to go back home, but always felt the beauty
of having dear people and great things waiting for me there. I felt I had all
the right to make the most of my present time without having to worry about the
future.
An hour passed and I'm still
sitting here in the train, very much looking forward to the rest of my
trip, but also looking at my ring and phone wallpaper every now and then to
share my feelings with both my beloved ones: Mohamed, and Educate-Me.
I finished those lines and closed
my iPad with that goofy grin on my face. I decided to add a goofier twist and
take a weird photo of my basketball, ring and phone while still on the train.
It wasn't at all surprising that the girl sitting in front of me thought I was
lunatic. But who cares, I took a decent shot and was quite satisfied.
Finally, I allowed myself to rest
and enjoy the rest of my journey, only to realize that this very same moment
was the start of a nightmare that rocked me to the core. I suddenly felt a
shocking pain at the bottom right side of my stomach. I thought it was normal
as I had been already unwell for a whole day after having that terrible
diarrhea, but this time the pain was really intense and different. I froze
in my seat and made a huge effort to stop from screaming, but every now and
then a loud 'awe' would come out.
I immediately started thinking
about someone to call and ask for help, and was naturally drawn to calling my
husband, Mohamed, who tried to seek some remote medical advice, but knew there
was very little he can do from where he was. He suggested that I try to seek
help from my friends in Germany: which brought a very inserting dimension to my
above thoughts about what 'family' really is.
(To be Continued ...)
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