Written by Alaa A. Rahman
Previously on Decisions in a Halo – Episode VII: Student and Master
Yesterday evening was a complete WASTE. OF. MY. TIME!
I have lost about three hours or so just so I can pay MY money to buy a gift for a bitch that I do not even like and send my “best friend” begging for her love! What the actual fuck!?
Why couldn’t I say, “No, Mourad I’m not paying for this!” and walk out of the store!? So what if he calls me a dramatic, overbearing ass and does not speak with me!? At least, he won’t be speaking with me on principle, not because I dared to refuse paying BUT still did anyway!?
Why am I such a wuss when it comes to confronting and taking a stand, especially to my friends!? Didn’t Albus Dumbledore award Neville Longbottom 10 points for standing up to his friends!? Mind you, his courage should have been valued at more than just 10 points, but that’s the thing!
Humans – especially here in hellish Cairo – value friendship more than standing up to what’s right and saving each other from one’s own stupidity!
Neville is such a badass!
I’M NOT! I’M PATHETIC!
My incessant scratching in my notebook is dampened by the loud music blasting from my earphones. I’m frustrated at how I handled myself the other day – or lack thereof – with my “best friend” Mourad.
I mean, I can’t be blamed for that right? I have every right to be angry, to be frustrated. My friend loves someone who doesn’t even value him and he goes and spends his efforts, as well as mine, into a totally unworthy and very expensive gift to make someone undeserving very happy. She won’t even consider this as an act of romance or care. She’ll just gawk at the Longchamp bag because, shocker, she’s a gold digger!
That may be a little overboard but who gives a shit!?
My colleagues never try to approach me when I’m like this because, technically speaking, when angered I’m like a flame gone wild. I burn everything around me; I blow up the situation out of proportion, and fall down a spiral of darkness and end up being totally miserable over nothing.
I look up from my angry rant in my diary and search for Adam.
Where the fucking hell is he!? He should be here by now!
Among the sea of students pouring into the faculty’s courtyard during free period, Adam – who is easily spotted – is nowhere to be found. I ask my friends at the booth if maybe he showed up early for advertising or interviews then left for class, but no one seems to have seen him all day…And I am in desperate need to talk to him about what happened, even if he will space out the first two seconds of the story and totally change the subject to something more irrelevant.
He believes that if we shift attention from the problem, there will be no problem. There’s another idiot come into being!
I call him but get an “out of service area” notification. I call again but in vain.
I swear his house is a dead zone when it comes to phones!
“Is this Santana you’re listening to?” a voice behind me, breaks through the bass of the song and brings me back to focus.
“Yeah…Yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands actually. Salma, right? We’ve met the other day I presume?” I say, as I stand up and shake hands with the girl I helped with her inquiry about the student activity and got her to sign up for an interview.
“That’s me!” answers Salma, giddying, with a nervous smile on her face.
“Do you have your interview today?” I ask as I check the timetable pinned to the front desk of the booth.
“No, actually; it’s tomorrow but I thought why not pass by and see how you guys are doing” Salma smiles, as she tucks a strand of her ebony black hair behind her ear.
“That’s awesome, of course…I mean, yeah, cool,” I stutter as I realize that I am staring at her…
More like gawking!
…and in an attempt to save face, I revert back to her comment on Santana, “So Santana, huh? What else do you listen to?”
“Well, I used to listen to metal, heavy rock and now, mostly underground music. It’s gaining quite the popular base nowadays…” Salma answers as she settles her violet and yellow backpack down and dives into her music interest.
As we dwell deeper into conversation, I can’t help but notice how comfortable I am talking with her, how smoothly the conversation seems to be going. Her passion is very apparent from every word she speaks about her guitar, Lorenzo, how she feels the connection with the strings; how her cat, Casper, listens to her playing and sometimes falls asleep to her melodies, how she wanted to go to art school but didn’t feel like she would belong there. Her black beaded eyes glint when she talks about the bands she listens to, her favorite tracks, the meaning behind the words; her passion.
My God, her passion!!
I can’t help but notice a connection forming between Salma and me: a very warm and pleasant sensation is drifting from my soul and connecting me to hers. My heart is skipping a beat, I find myself interested in everything she has to share, everything she wants to tell. I’m both lost in her words and not even paying attention to what she’s saying. It’s like our souls are one at this point; I understand her passion for music, how lyrics are important in a song, how the stroke of a brush on a canvas can send you far, far away and her love for her pet even though I don’t own one.
That connection…could it be?
Yes, the long lost concept of the “True Bond”; the purest, most magical and comforting bond between two people – lovers and friends alike – that can transcend pettiness, stupidity, vanity, jealousy, a bond that is so strong and so grand that once you have a taste of it, you can’t let go of.
A link I have never stumbled upon…until now.
“And… I’ve been talking non-stop for the past 15 minutes,” Salma blushes as she smiles nervously.
That nervous smile is just everything…
“No, not at all…I mean, you’re worth listening to…I mean, you’re not boring…It’s best you talk since I apparently lost my ability to form sentences!”
Salma laughs. I smile.
Twin souls, that’s what we are…