My grandfather's 30 years old Oud falls from its display stand
And breaks in half
Suddenly, like death, interrupting heedless felicity
Father said with a sad air that it was its day and there was no helping it
Mother said it was pro'lly a deflected 3ain
And I just stood there looking at the broken instrument
Older than the walls it used to grace
A treasure once kept away from my curious hands
Its remains now carelessly collected in a box
The same way you'd throw the guts of a slain cattle
Makes you wish it was cremated to the bones and got blown with the spring breeze
To save the last bits of dignity it had
When it used to sing
It was one of these symbolic ends,
A full stop at the end of prose
The withering of a blooming flower in a dark nook
Death in the living room, ironically
Without a warning shot
In a quite afternoon
Did you know ?
Some losses scratch your heart gently, like the blink of a maiden
And others drill at your chest like a trapped rat tryinna escape a flooded tunnel
Some losses crack you a bit from the inside, you don't notice it then
Nor do you feel the ache
Not at the time
But one more blow, harder and more spiteful
Would shatter the fragile mirrors you keep in the boudoir of your heart
In my melancholic pondering i thought...
Perhaps if it was carved with the same piece of timber
It wouldn't have broken in half
Because joining two antithetical parts that don't belong and esteeming the union
Far above expectations
So they would look like a fine, perfect,untouchable piece of art
To the idle attendant looking from their stand on the dirt of mediocrity
Is the reason all things fall apart
And it struck me then
That I wasn't affected because the old damn Oud was suddenly no longer
It just got me thinking, though arguably it was unrelated
Are we, too, gonna fall and break into pieces out of the blue ?
Are we gonna fall from our polished throne of fictitious happiness
And shatter into convulsing fragments of hopelessness
Still clinging to the hem of denial's dress in a despairing fit
A splintered set of Chinese that can be easily glued back with 9oba3 Ameer
But it will never be the same
And breaks in half
Suddenly, like death, interrupting heedless felicity
Father said with a sad air that it was its day and there was no helping it
Mother said it was pro'lly a deflected 3ain
And I just stood there looking at the broken instrument
Older than the walls it used to grace
A treasure once kept away from my curious hands
Its remains now carelessly collected in a box
The same way you'd throw the guts of a slain cattle
Lo, across the neat cut between the Neck and Ribs
Is a cluster of muddled strings, aghast and confused
Like an offspring of a divorced couple
That doesn't know with whom to belongIs a cluster of muddled strings, aghast and confused
Like an offspring of a divorced couple
Makes you wish it was cremated to the bones and got blown with the spring breeze
To save the last bits of dignity it had
When it used to sing
It was one of these symbolic ends,
A full stop at the end of prose
The withering of a blooming flower in a dark nook
Death in the living room, ironically
Without a warning shot
In a quite afternoon
Did you know ?
Some losses scratch your heart gently, like the blink of a maiden
And others drill at your chest like a trapped rat tryinna escape a flooded tunnel
Some losses crack you a bit from the inside, you don't notice it then
Nor do you feel the ache
Not at the time
But one more blow, harder and more spiteful
Would shatter the fragile mirrors you keep in the boudoir of your heart
In my melancholic pondering i thought...
Perhaps if it was carved with the same piece of timber
It wouldn't have broken in half
Because joining two antithetical parts that don't belong and esteeming the union
Far above expectations
So they would look like a fine, perfect,untouchable piece of art
To the idle attendant looking from their stand on the dirt of mediocrity
Is the reason all things fall apart
And it struck me then
That I wasn't affected because the old damn Oud was suddenly no longer
It just got me thinking, though arguably it was unrelated
Are we, too, gonna fall and break into pieces out of the blue ?
Are we gonna fall from our polished throne of fictitious happiness
And shatter into convulsing fragments of hopelessness
Still clinging to the hem of denial's dress in a despairing fit
A splintered set of Chinese that can be easily glued back with 9oba3 Ameer
But it will never be the same
A limp instrument, presented with shame
Rendered inept of producing a sound without the dormant fear
Rendered inept of producing a sound without the dormant fear
Of ever crumbling again
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