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Ahlem's dreams

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Post by chinda on Sun Aug 08, 2010 2:37 am

She decided to wear her ebony silky evening gown that she liked the most as he liked too. Her mother tried vainly to persuade her not to go to that wedding but she was determined to go no matter what will happen. Her insistence was stronger than her mother's imperativeness. She repeatedly said to her mother:" I will go to that wedding no matter what will happen. How can you expect me not to see him in his wedding day, I promised him and myself to be there. I awaited that wedding for long, and finally I am going to attend another woman wedding. After all he is still my cousin". She, in few minutes, prepared herself not like usual or like women who spend hours in order to get prepared. A doleful look was upon her face like the one who was going to a funeral to bid the last farewell upon a dear person, not like the one who was going to attend a wedding. Every step to the weeding hall fastened her heart's beats.
Ahlem arrived to where the wedding was taking place; she opened the door and entered. The room was crowded with women; some dancing, others sitting staring at the bride, and others were busy by chastising other women's dresses, hair, and make up. When she entered many women exchanged looks and looked at her. Ahlem ignored their looks though they were like poisonous arrows penetrating her heart, each look held its heaviness in its woman eyes. She took her place near where the bride was sitting. In few seconds, Ahlem swept the bride veiled face; she was a beautiful woman with large hazelnut well made up eyes and a small red mouth with flawless lips like a ripe strawberry. A joyful look was upon her face with the white transparent veil which added to her more shining and delight. Ahlem tried with all her might to look nonchalant, throwing a glance upon the bride from time to time or looking at the women who were busy by reweaving the story of Ahlem with the groom, and how she would be sitting in the place of that bride if fate didn't deviate their life. She even didn't bother herself to understand what they were saying about her. A hurricane arose in her mind taking her from that crowded room to a remote isolated desert where she found all the souvenirs waiting for her. She remembered the day when he came to ask her hand, how a delightful day it was! And the day of their engagement with the moment he put that ring which was engraved by the two first letters of their names, how could she forget this. Two years elapsed by from that unforgettable day, but she still remember his words that day telling her that her anniversary day of next year will be their day of marriage. What a mocking fate it was which made her attend another woman wedding instead of hers on her anniversary day. What a priceless and worthless gift a woman got in her anniversary day. That day in August would linger in her mind and engrave in every ounce of her heart. She always liked the Indian movies and dreamed to have a joyful end just like them but, unfortunately, her end was a doleful end directed by a skilful renowned director his name is fate.

A sudden noise arose in the room woke up Ahlem from her meditation, and brought her back to the crowded room. She looked around her to see the women rushed to the door to see the groom which the drums announced his arrival. Ahlem felt that the drummers were blowing on her arteries causing a deep anguish and gush of sorrow with each blow. She heard the voices saying: "He is here, the groom has arrived." Her heart throbbed violently when these words reached her ears. With a jerk Ahlem stood up and stepped to Amal, the groom's sister, and asked her with a shaking voice:" Is..the gr..oom here...did..Bel..arrive?" "Yes, he is here", said Amal feverishly. For a moment, Ahlem felt that she was on the verge of falling down, the ground ceased to be solid underneath her feet. A tremor passed by her body causing her to shiver in every limb. She felt that the adrenaline arose to the pick making her heart beating as it never beat before, as if it was going to go out from her chest. Every cell in her body was going to explode from the over blood her heart was pumping. The sound of the drums started approaching little by little as the groom approached from the door. Now the groom was on the door step. All the eyes were cast upon him. He stood for few seconds there receiving the congratulations of women, then he sauntered toward the bride who was waiting him with shameful eyes. Ahlem's eyes were fixed on the groom; he was handsome in his black suit and the violet cravat; the colour they liked. The white cloak added to him more beauty making him look like an angel who came to give a new life to the bride or like a ghost who was going to take someone's soul. Now, he was standing by his bride. He grabbed a small red velvet box from his pocket, opened it and held a golden ring he put in the bride's finger. At that moment, Ahlem detected that the ring, he two years ago put in her finger in a ceremony like that one, still in her finger. Although her mother tried to make her taking it off after the deletion of the weeding but Ahlem refused to do so. While she was looking to the ring in the bride's finger and turning the ring in her finger, Amal approached from her and drove her to congratulate the couple. The action was so fast that Ahlem couldn't react or refuse. She stepped to the bride, kissed her and wished her a delighted life, then she turned to the groom, shook hands and wished him a blissful life. Their eyes met just for a fraction of a second, but Ahlem felt that it was longer than eternity itself. In his brownish eyes she saw all the elated days they spend together and told him all what she wanted to say for the last time. But she couldn't understand what he said as usual. She couldn't read what his eyes said because they were not any more hers; they were the bride's eyes now. Ahlem knew that it was the moment to bury her dreams and hopes in the graveyard of the past, in the cemetery of her mind and heart. She knew that all those people were witnesses on the burial of her dreams in a grave was written on its tombstone " Ahlem's dreams". She knew that none would remember the dead who was buried in that grave, visit him and sob on his tomb but herself.
After congratulating the couple, Ahlem did bid a farewell to the people who were there as she did with her hopes and dreams. She left the room before her eyes betrayed her and released all the myriad tears which were imprisoned in her eyes. She hurried to the door because she felt that the odour of sadness coming out from her heart was about to choke her. On the door step, she stopped a moment, turned back and looked to the groom who was following her by his eyes. Their eyes met for the last time, he chuckled and said without moving his lips "Good luck, Ahlem". On that door step, Ahlem sipped the last sip from the glass of her hopes and dreams.

That night, Ahlem decided not to stop writing. How could she stop writing for him while he was the one who taught her to write, how could she stop writing for him and he was the one who fostered her pen to split its ink on her papers. Though he, on that nightmarish night, broke her pen and cut her papers and scatter them in the air like the dry falling leaves of the fall, but she could collect her papers and wrote again but for none except for him. From that day on, she would not celebrate her anniversary on her birthday; each August, Ahlem celebrated her dreams' death and hopes' loss.
chinda
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Post by Thewolf on Sun Aug 08, 2010 1:55 pm

It is really wonderful story. It makes each man or women swim between its lines.
I feel it is real story, where you the bride or Ahlem? Chinda Ahlem's dreams Icon_smile
I think Ahlem, not reason i want you have like her fate, but for another reason i know Ahlem's dreams Icon_razz
May Allah bless you Chinda, it is really wonderful story
Waiting reading you more
You are the best ever
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Post by Ezinma on Sun Aug 08, 2010 2:35 pm

Outstanding Chinda mash'Allah! I definitely like it! ya3omri1

This is an excellent story that I coudn't help but read twice. I do like your opening, it sets the atmosphere clearly, and it took me no time to understand what your narrative is all about. Although it's a bit predictable, yet, when the groom grabbed the golden ring to put it into the bride's finger, I expected Ahlem to spoil the wedding but she only gave them her best wishes!

Ahlem's story for me represents the birth of new hopes, and new dreams rather than her "dreams' death and hopes's loss". It's true that it makes the reader sense Ahlem's pains, but also shows that her pains and suffering are not lasting. That's what the ending tells, and even if Ahlem decides to carry on writing to "him", but sooner he will become a mere fictional character in her writings, and maybe will be replaced!

My favourite line is "That day in August would linger in her mind and engrave in every ounce of her heart. She always liked the Indian movies and dreamed to have a joyful end just like them but, unfortunately, her end was a doleful end directed by a skillful renowned director his name is fate". Amazing!


Nice write Chinda! You absolutely did a brilliant job. Keep on!
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Post by Thewolf on Sun Aug 08, 2010 2:44 pm

This is the result when a couple build their relationship (before marriage) on dreams, not on plans and understanding...
I don't consider Ahlem as a victim, maybe she didn't deserve that man.
She made him live in dreams (Indian movies) , so she kept living on her dreams.
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Post by Londonhbb on Sun Aug 08, 2010 2:45 pm

It's really an amazing story chinda. Congratulations u r really writing as the famous writers. U reminded me by Nicholas Spark .

• I really like the use of the adverbs in ur story. Others may feel that it's an axageration use but 4 me it was a succefull attempt to make the reader live nd feel every action in the story.
• I like the end of it also because I do believe that pain makes greatness.
• My favourite line is : She felt that the adrenaline arose to the pick making her heart beating as it never beated before .


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Post by bilinda on Sun Aug 08, 2010 5:40 pm

if i meet ahlem i would tell her this:



إن كان الحب هو أفضل عملية شد وجه ، فإن أفضل كريم ضد التجاعيد هو النسيان.
لاتدعي الفقدان ينكتب بؤسا وتجاعيد على وجهك.
فالخسارة العاطفية تظهر أول ماتظهر على وجه المرأة.مهما تجمّلت ستشي بك
الملامح المتعبة..العينان اللتان لم تناما،الخدان اللذان كانا نضرين،ومرت
بهما سواقي الدموع، الرموش التي كانت ساحرة وجارحة وانكسرت وذبلت لفرط
بكائك السري وانهطالك الداخلي المتواصل.
أخرجي هذا الرجل أولا من وجهك.لابد ألا تريه في المرآة عندما تقفين أمامها في الصباح.
فبشاعته داخلك،وذلك الكم من الأذى الذي الحقه بك،سيتحول إلى أحاسيس قبيحة
وضارة تشغل كل مكان كان يحتله في جسدك،سيعبر وحله شرايينك وكريات دمك
وينتهي في ملامح وجهك.
لاتدفعي من جمالك ونضارتك ثمن خروج هذا الرجل من حياتك .فهو لم يدفع هذه "القيمة المضافة"للفراق.
لاثمنا ولا زمنا.حداده عليك سيكون قصيرا.فلو كان طويلا وموجعا ومكلفا لماتخلى عنك.
sorry for using arabic
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Post by bilinda on Sun Aug 08, 2010 5:43 pm

Chinda believe me i felt like it is a real story. I wanted to shout on Ahlem, and tell her wake up do not humiliate yourself...good job sister it is really amazing.
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Post by chinda on Sun Aug 08, 2010 8:06 pm

Hello,

Really I am very glad to read your comments, mates.
Wolf, thanks for what you said. Ezinma, really I was very elated to read your comment. London and Bilinda, thank you very much dears.
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Post by Hush on Sun Aug 08, 2010 8:42 pm

Bravo, really I loved the story. I loved the way and the content, a story like I love. What I liked is there was no disdain, no hatred but grief and woe, the very proof of the existence of something beautiful. Some people doesn't survive physically in the life of the one but they do survive in other ways, they survive in a the nice things we learn from them. Hat off Chinda, I hope I'll read you soon
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Post by Hush on Sun Aug 08, 2010 8:57 pm

bilinda wrote:

إن كان الحب هو أفضل عملية شد وجه ، فإن أفضل كريم ضد التجاعيد هو النسيان. لاتدعي الفقدان ينكتب بؤسا وتجاعيد على وجهك. فالخسارة العاطفية تظهر أول ماتظهر على وجه المرأة.مهما تجمّلت ستشي بك الملامح المتعبة..العينان اللتان لم تناما،الخدان اللذان كانا نضرين،ومرت بهما سواقي الدموع، الرموش التي كانت ساحرة وجارحة وانكسرت وذبلت لفرط بكائك السري وانهطالك الداخلي المتواصل. أخرجي هذا الرجل أولا من وجهك.لابد ألا تريه في المرآة عندما تقفين أمامها في الصباح. فبشاعته داخلك،وذلك الكم من الأذى الذي الحقه بك،سيتحول إلى أحاسيس قبيحة وضارة تشغل كل مكان كان يحتله في جسدك،سيعبر وحله شرايينك وكريات دمك وينتهي في ملامح وجهك. لاتدفعي من جمالك ونضارتك ثمن خروج هذا الرجل من حياتك .فهو لم يدفع هذه "القيمة المضافة"للفراق. لاثمنا ولا زمنا.حداده عليك سيكون قصيرا.فلو كان طويلا وموجعا ومكلفا لماتخلى عنك.
sorry for using arabic


لو كانت المرأة تهتم بجمالها الداخلي قدر اهتمامها بجمالها الخارجي لحاكت الملائكة ولكنها حتى في فقدانها أعز الناس وأقربهم للقلب يظل جمالها محطّ اهتمامها كأنها لا تريد من الرجل إلا أن يكون المرآة السحريّة التي تقول لها في كل يوم وليلة "أنت أجمل الجميلات"، وكأني بها ما سميت مرأة إلا لتعلقها بمرآتها فياحسرتا على مرايا النسيان
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Post by chinda on Mon Aug 09, 2010 12:14 am

Thanks a lot, Hush, for your words. It is really an honor for me that you liked it.
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Post by Guest on Mon Aug 09, 2010 12:29 am

I like it so so much Chinda, keep writing dear you are shinning. ya3omri1

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Post by bryne_kh2000 on Fri Aug 13, 2010 9:21 pm

Good Job CHINDA, I do like what you have written.

I just want to say something: about the use of the word PRICELESS


in "What a priceless and worthless gift a woman got in her

anniversary day".

I think that the two words priceless and worthless are not synonyms,

are they ? I think the word "priceless" is used when we are talking

about something so expensive that we can't get with all people's

money i.e something very precious and dear to us.

My favorite part is "making him look like an angel who came to give a

new life to the bride or like a ghost who was going to take someone's

soul"

CONGRATULATIONS SIS.
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