Somewhere! (Hunaak!) (11 page)

Beethoven leaned on the edge of the piano. With his head leaning down, his arms crossed and his finger tips were moving in the air with the tune I was playing
. I finished playing the song and I was hesitant to hear his opinion. I only wanted to save my skin!

“
You started it off with a major I… sending out a message of love and loyalty… emotions raised to tell of struggle and weave sadness… and it ended with a promise of eternal love despite the farewell” — he added.

He had just summarized the entire movie just by listening to the music! My head started to swell.

“When did you write it?” — he asked.

“
Ahhhh… I did not compose it, I just played it my way” — I added.

“
Listen Husam, playing an instrument is the easiest thing you could learn! You could perfect emitting your emotions through any instrument, if such emotions existed, and were true and strong!” — he added.

He closed the piano
’s cover as he went on:

“
Those who write poetry are not like those who recite it! Those who write novels are not like those who read them! Whoever composes to narrate his soul’s feelings, is unlike those who play them to show off in front of people!” — he added.

“
But I must master playing on the instrument before I can compose, am I right?” — I said.

“
Husam, you carry the greatest musical instrument… you play it professionally and relentlessly” — he said.

This was yet another conundrum
… I would have to wait for its meaning.

“
Do you remember the first tune you enjoyed?” — he asked me.

“
Honestly, and I am not saying this as a complement, your great symphony that you played for Elisa (Für Elise), it was the first record I ever got in my life” — I said.

“
The first tune you ever enjoyed was your mother’s singing along with the music of her breath and the beating of her heart that had embraced you as an embryo hearing for the first time… how many times has a melody stuck itself to your brain echoing in its corridors in spite of you? How many times did you forget yourself in the music and forced you to hum the tune without feeling it?” — he said.

“
You mean that my brain is…” — I replied but was interrupted.

“
Yes! Your brain is the greatest musical instrument of all time! Tunes flow within it nonstop to blend with your soul’s emotions, that is the music that accompanies our lives! It starts when it does and fades gradually as we get older and forget ourselves and rebel against our own souls!” — he said.

Beethoven moved away from the piano and walked towards the corridor on the side of the hall that ended with a black door covered with a decorated leather pillow. I followed him into that insulated space behind that door. For the first time ever, I felt total calm to the extent that I got frustrated from my own breath
’s noise.

“
Welcome inside the greatest musical instrument!” — Beethoven said.

A dim light from the ceiling of the wide room came crawling down as he said this and
revealed an endless number of giant cords intersecting in every direction, we were
inside
an enormous musical instrument!

“
These cords will play any tune your soul will create, there is no need to confuse your brain with the stroking of cords or striking keys or blowing horns… leave that to the instruments, what is important is for you to know… and to play what you feel” — he added.

Those cords enticed me to play, but I could only reach them with my soul. I hummed the start of the tune, and with it the cords shook and the
tunes raced…

I didn
’t not need to hum, the cords were reading me and played what was inside of me, truly, what was more important was that I felt the tunes clearly and deeply. Playing was a foregone conclusion… my emotions heightened with my tunes and with it blended other tunes that I could not make out its source until I felt Malak’s cheek and her hands laying on my shoulder. I did not feel or hear  her  pushing the door slowly and moving closer to share my feelings. We played together and our hearts joined in a dance that ended with our symphony.

Our tunes even stunned Beethoven. They invoked his emotions to start a new symphony that could not bear staying trapped in his soul any longer, as he released it from its captivity; although we were silent, Malak signaled me with her index finger on her lips, she pulled me softly to leave. It was
not proper to leave without thanking him, but even etiquette holds its breath in respect of his playing. I sufficed with a whisper between him and myself:

“
Thank you Mr. Ludwig… I promise to change the world!” — I said.

He did not respond, as he needed his deaf moment now, but he smirked slightly as he continued his playing with his eyes shut and I heard his response in the tunes, that said:

“If your soul wanted to change the world, be sure it will change!” — Beethoven added.

(8)

Life
…

Round by round!

W
hat has most impressed me here, was me! My body’s abilities, my mind’s abilities, and more importantly than both was the enormous amount of energy that flowed through my veins. The biggest disaster I suffered from in my life was being lazy. This was not a disaster as much as it was a crime I committed against myself… a crime everyone around me is an accomplice in! Everyone is lazy, everyone is a criminal! The difference between the great and successful and us was not their super abilities nor their unique talents. The real difference is drive and continued hard work. That’s what makes legends!

He who does not achieve greatness has no excuse; If we do not fulfill our dreams;

then
, we do not deserve them!

Last night, I was certain that I was in a dream… it was the best night I had ever lived in my life or dreams or even my imagination. We were beaten down of exhaustion both me and Malak. It was yet the echo of those mesmerizing tunes that never left my ears until Malak started singing, that is. She wiped my memory of Humanity ever inventing music or instruments.

She sat cross-legged on the bed after capturing her commands to the domes that covered my room. They began moving into each other revealing a diamond mine swimming on the waves of a crimson sky. Nothing interrupted its calmness save for a few breezes that snuck in just to dance with Malak
’s hair forcing it to dance with my hair, eyelashes, eyebrows and the tip of my nose after she set my head over her lap as I closed my eyes enjoying her singing while her whispers added to its charm and huskiness enveloping me in a coma that I wish not to ever awaken from.

But I did awaken, she left after she set me to sleep leaving me a message that she wrote into my notebook and signed it with her lips:

“My beloved Husam… I had to leave, I have a million things to do… Love you… Malak”

I was still excited to exercise what I learned from Mr. Beethoven, my fingers were stuck by a hysterical frenzy that wouldn
’t subside until I played!

I stormed to the elevator, went down, and as I expected, found
Layan and her sisters. The three nymphs were siting around the fountain playing from the depths of their souls.

They were surprised when they found me pondering in front of them to dive deep into each of their emotions through their tunes. I smiled at them to ease their embarrassment but I did not succeed. The
embarrassment forced them to stop playing. I only clapped.

“
Bravo!! Truly the most magnificent music I heard in my life” — I said to them.

Layan
’s cheeks blossomed and I could hardly make out her mumbling:

“
That is so kind of you Mister Husam” — Layan said.

“
By the way, I am Husam! My name is Husam without any titles! I honestly cannot stand the word Mister!” — I said.

“
My apologies Mr. Husam” — Layam replied.

“
Did we not just agree to let go of titles… come let me show you how to party!” — I replied.

I sat amongst them at the edge of the fountain, their embarrassment melted away and turned into a river of kindness and fun. Hours passed quickly as we played and sang, I remembered most of the songs that I had heard in my entire life and I
played  and sang all of them. Anything from Um Kalthoom to even cartoon theme songs!

I think Carlos Santana would be psychologically shattered and Eric Clapton would retire if they had heard the way I played the guitar! I - of course
– did not dare ask Beethoven to teach me how to play the guitar as he might have smashed it on my head.

I did not feel the time. It flew by as I was head over heels in joy with
Layan and her sisters, until that joy was abruptly stopped by Malak! She stood in front of me with her arms crossed and her entire beauty turned into one big block of anger — and jealousy
—
at first, I did not notice her being there as I was so immersed in the music and song until I noticed Layan’s nervousness, Lina’s paralysis and Leen’s yellow face. I raised my face towards Malak, and she said:

"
学
习中国呢？太棒
了
!"

As expected I did not understand a word of what she said! I only realized it was in an angry Chinese Cantonese that I was supposed to master instead of wasting time with
Layan and her sisters!

Malak did not pinch me from my ear but did pull me into the elevator. I felt the pain and
ear being pulled in the context of what had happened. The nymphs could not hold their soft laughter as I moved towards the elevator like a child who was about to get harshly scolded!

“
Not only are you ignoring your work, but you are wasting your time flirting with the girls?! Have you forgotten that time is not at all on our side?!” — Malak said.

She was
so furious as we made our way back to my room.

“
No problem!! Just give me one hour and I will learn Chinese and gibberish too if you want!” — I said angrily.

“
I was expecting that!” — she replied.

“
Expecting what?” — I interjected.

“
Your vanity!” — she added.

“
This is called self-confidence!” — I said.

“
This is called obstinacy! Vanity does not fit you Husam! I loved you with all your flaws… as long as your soul does not change and get consumed with vanity!” — Malak added.

“
Do not start preaching! I admit my faults!” — I said.

“
Lucky for you that Mr. Bruce speaks English!” — she replied.

“
Did I not tell you from the start that there was no need for all of this hassle and let us just move on with English or the translation device!” — I said.

“
And I told you that there is no better way to learn from someone than to use their mother tongue!” — Malak said.

She disappeared into the dressing room and returned with a yellow sports jacket that was decorated with two thick black lines
along  its sleeves.

“
I remember!!” — I shouted.

“
You remembered Mr. Bruce?” — she responded to my sudden shout.

“
No! I remembered that I am an Ittihadi to the bones! How did you know?” — I said.

Her jealousy was still burning! I do not blame her! Honestly, igniting a woman
’s jealousy has its special pleasure! But I would rather be careful even when thinking to myself, I shouldn’t forget that she can feel my thoughts and could explode in my face at any moment!

She threw the clothes at my face as she nervously said:

“You have three minutes! To change while I bring the car from the parking lot! If you are late even for one second I will cancel the appointment… understood?!
”

She had a commanding voice that did not at all fit with her softness and gentleness
… but she was still luscious even at the peak of her anger!

I put on my clothes quickly and I was downstairs the moment the loud engine thunder from a Chevrolet Malibu echoed and its long red hood appeared. As Malak drove the car closer, a wrapping around her head was a silky white handkerchief decorated with black circles and on her nose sat large dark glasses, she looked like a Hollywood actresses from the 1970s.

“Are you driving or should I?” — Malak asked.

“
Women do not drive where I come from!” — I said.

My statement overflowed with my local DNA yet she took it cheerfully, she jumped out of the driver
’s seat to the seat next to it. I got into the car and raced off. What an amazing feeling! I had yearned for the driving wheel! Malak’s handkerchief flew away as I drove faster, she leaned towards me and held on to my arm… was it the fear of my speeding? Or was it love and yearning? It did not matter so long that my angel was holding my arm.

Everything in this car was classic, its open top, its milky leather, its wooden steering wheel. Everything save for its speed, it was crazy! Only the Central Tower from that colossal city was all that I could see in my rearview mirror and it quickly slipped to disappear behind the horizon.

As we reached the edges of an old and abandoned city, we parked in front of a large warehouse. Its metallic walls echoed the sounds of violent collisions coming from the inside. I pulled the heavy metal door revealing a huge empty space with a single large hanging training bag and Mr. Bruce with his puny body was violently and repeatedly kicking it. Who could forget that side kick? Yes I remembered him!!

“
Bruce Lee!” — I said.

I finished my sentence the moment his foot hit the bag like a missile. His foot came out on the other side with sand scattered and shreds of cloth and leather were all over the place.

“Who are you?”
—
he asked me while he still had his foot in mid-air.

“
Me? I am Husam Mr. Bruce!” — I replied.

He calmly -
finally
- brought down his foot and turned towards me as he smiled.

“
I did not ask what your name was. I asked ‘Who are you?
’
It is impossible for one to not know his name… but it is very hard for one to know himself! I’ve been waiting for you Mr. Husam…” — Mr. Bruce said.

I approached him with enthusiasm, and suddenly a violent punch pierced my stomach squeezing my guts onto my spine for a fraction of a second before his fist left me as I squirmed in pain.

“Mr. Bruce! What is the meaning of this?” — Malak shouted.

“
Sorry Mr. Husam, I forgot to tell you that I had ten simple lessons for you to better know yourself and extract your potential abilities! First lesson: to be prepared… always!” — Mr. Bruce said.

Malak extended a hand to help me get up.

“Did you come here to play dead in front of the girls?” — Mr. Bruce said sarcastically.

He signaled Malak to move aside and he extended his arm towards me. The moment I held his hand, he swiftly pulled me up and surprised me
with a punch from his other fist but, this time, I was able to catch his arm at the last moment.

“
You learned your first lesson then… great!” — Mr. Bruce said.

With that, he pushed his elbow into my face and I heard the sound of my exploding nose and blood flowed.

“Mr. Burce!! What are you doing?!” — Malak shouted.

“
Would you like to train him yourself?” — Mr. Bruce said to Malak.

“
No… but…” — Malak began replying but was interjected.

“
Then do not interfere!” — Mr. Bruce said.

I took advantage of his small talk with Malak, and threw a vengeful punch towards his face, it was
very
fast! But his face that was there just a moment ago was no longer there! In its place, a foot appeared and shattered what remained of my nose.

“
I am very impressed of your fast learning abilities! Lesson two: speed makes up nine tenths of your strength!” — Mr. Bruce added.

I did not care about the pain or blood as I furiously set myself to attack him.

“That is enough!” — Malak interjected.

Malak stopped my attack and carried on saying:

“Thank you Mr. Bruce! Husam let us go!” — Malak added.

I would never accept retreat! Never!

“Malak… I am not leaving before I beat down Mr. Bruce Lee!”
—
I objected to Malak.

“
I like your fighting spirit Mr. Husam! That is the most important lesson: your fighting spirit ensures your victory before you win, and might announce your defeat before you lose! It might increase your strength… or decrease it!” — Mr. Bruce added.

We moved towards a stage in the center of the warehouse, a shiny metallic floor that was about twenty meters long and ten meters wide.

“Your fighting spirit must emit in a way that confuses your opponent and drives fear into his heart! An elephant is stronger than a lion, but the lion preys on it with its fighting spirit! If you do not prey on your opponent with your fighting spirit through your gaze… he will prey on you!” — Mr. Bruce added.

The warehouse lights faded as the stage lit up. As we walked into it, it turned into a three dimensional environment reflecting images of mountains and trees next to a small hut. With the simple wave of his hands, Mr. Bruce changed the surroundings. I remembered these surroundings! They were from the electronic fighting game that I had mastered the most!

He settled for the setting of a Sky Scraper’s roof top.

“
But!!” — Mr. Bruce yelled.

An annoying crackle echoed and heavy steps moved towards us. A giant appeared out of the darkness dressed in a military uniform that almost ripped from his bloated muscles, that thing could not be human. It was two and a half meters in height; its
physique and robotic movements reminded me of one of fighters in that game!