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BOB

Chasing Safia.

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BOB   

There he sat with his head resting against the Bus window. The bus was empty except for the regular faces that joined him every morning. Silence was commonplace for their commute into the crowded city.

 

He took a disinterested glance around at the other passengers; One offered a slight nod, and another a trained smile. He'd been riding the same bus for a year now yet he didn't know their names. They were there, that was enough for him. Routine had slowly transferred to comfort and security. After confirming that nothing was out of place, he was content. Letting out a low sigh he reached into his messenger bag for his Ipod.

 

What would be the soundtrack for today? The noble Qur’an, he argued with himself. He pressed play, brought the headphones to his ears and closed his eyes.

 

The bus jerked without warning. The sudden brake nearly threw him from his seat. He quickly braced himself with an arm grabbing the back of the row in front of him, waiting for the impact...

 

"War hana dilin" screamed most passengers at the driver but fortunately nothing happened.

 

He unclenched his jaw trying to calm the nerves and adrenaline that now instinctively surged through him. Remarkably he seemed to be the only one concerned. The rest of the passengers still sat in their normal, complacent silence. Did they not notice? Then he heard the familiar hissing as the front doors creaked open. The sound somehow reminded him of the Funeral Parlour and the sound of a new coffin. But the figure that ascended the steps was nothing close to a creature out of a horror movie.

 

She was beautiful. Chocolate skin, beautiful brown eyes and dark hair that framed her face perfectly. As she reached the last step onto the bus, the rising sun behind the windshield surrounded her silhouette. It was cinematic. If he had bothered to look at the scattered passengers and seen how oblivious they were to her arrival he wouldn't have believed she was real. Instead, he sat motionless with a gaping mouth,even forgetting to blink and enjoying every second of this amazing beauty and and thanking God for the opportunity to see her.

 

The bus jerked again, easier this time, and merged back into heavy traffic. He was still starring at the unexpected beauty, unable to break his gaze. he watched her walk down the isle with a calm confidence; her long skirt flowing lightly. Her feet barely seemed to touch the bus floor. She must have been a ballerina, he thought.

 

He'd never seen a woman handle herself with such elegance and grace. Lost in her gentle sway, he hadn't realized she was heading right to his row!

 

Shifting nervously, his heart pounded like a piston in his chest. a few beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. The Ipod was still playing, but the sound seemed distant now. His eyes quickly darted around anxiously. She approached his row as he took in a deep breath...

 

 

PS. This is the Somali Maryooleey version of "Chasing Amy"... smile.gif

 

 

Peace,Love & Unity.

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Baashi   

:D @"War hana dilin". Talented and creative that's what you are sxb. Do continue plz and for the sake of old timers portray Safia in guntiino, gareys, qamaar etc.

 

And when i read this

Her feet barely seemed to touch the bus floor. She must have been a ballerina, he thought.

This song came to mind:

Culeys uma dhaqaaqdoo, mana cararto, cagta socodka kuma celiso ciidee, way ciribsataa!

 

Four faryareeys up.

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^Oday, qudhaadu dab yar ma shidid. Quick with matching somali lyrics, maskax fududaa! Muxuu kaban dhagaysta. lol.

 

Beautiful story-writing - telling. You can almost feel being in the bus, witnessing the event happening. Quality of a good writer, bro. Transporting you into the action! Share some more.......and I appreciate.

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Originally posted by BOB:

She was beautiful. Chocolate skin, beautiful brown eyes and dark hair that framed her face perfectly. As she reached the last step onto the bus, the rising sun behind the windshield surrounded her silhouette. It was cinematic. If he had bothered to look at the scattered passengers and seen how oblivious they were to her arrival he wouldn't have believed she was real. Instead, he sat motionless with a gaping mouth,even forgetting to blink and enjoying every second of this amazing beauty and and thanking God for the opportunity to see her.

LooooL waryaa' riyo aa nagalisee see waaye saaxiib' :D

 

Usually in cases like this' everything comes to stop like a disc' scratched' when she talks' cuz gurls with beauty like dat' usually ruin it when they talk...hehehe

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Maf Kees   

Shifting nervously, his heart pounded like a piston in his chest. a few beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. The Ipod was still playing, but the sound seemed distant now. His eyes quickly darted around anxiously. She approached his row as he took in a deep breath...

I hope for him that he doesn't get too excited if she's going to sit next to him. Gotta be smooth...

 

BOB, finish the story yaakheey!

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BOB   

Guys be patient dee Aggah, don't you know that Authors (yeah, I am a Dreamer) HATE to be hurried and pushed more than anything else including by their publishers? ;)

 

I will post as soon as I write Insha Allah don't you worry and guys get ready to relive that awful memory and frustrating moment when you first started noticing the cutie sitting next to you in the class and you didn't know what to say to her even when you knew she liked you alright and encouraged you to make a move. redface.gif

 

PS. Bashka, Safia is a classy lady and in my opinion any self respecting classy lady has got to have a wide range of Dirac,expect to see (read) Safia wearing the latest Dirac on a date. smile.gif

 

 

Peace,Love & Unity.

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BOB   

My beloved Sister Juxa.. Welcome Back, i am honoured to welcome you Back and I apologize for keeping you waiting. smile.gif

 

 

"Excuse me,is this seat taken Aboowe"? asked politely by the most beautiful girl he's ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on.

 

"By who..uhmmm..I mean No Abaayo". He mumbled loudly and nervously still wearing the headphone.

Safia quickly spotted this and realized why the handsome young man with sad looking eyes answered loudly, she pointed at his headphone and asked him to remove and which he did and spared himself any more embarrassment.

 

"Thanks Walaal" she said with the most beautiful smile he's ever seen. She isn't only blessed with a great body but she also has a hypnotic eyes and a great set of white teeth and Oh.. her sweet smelling perfume and all those expensive looking jewelry.. she must come from a wealthy family he thought..but that can't be..No No..she wouldn't be riding this bus with me if she came from a rich family" he argued with himself when she interrupted.

 

"so you like music huh"? she asked trying to get him into talking to her instead of staring at her which is exactly what he was doing shamelessly and continuously.

 

"Yeah..but I am listening to Sheikh Mohamed Al Muheisini.. God, I love this Sheikh, May Allah s.w reward him with Jannah" he replied with a faint smile.

 

Oh great, he doesn't stutter, that is wonderful. she thought.

 

"Though I listen to music I wouldn't say I like it, whenever I choose to listen I prefer our Somali songs to any other" she confessed.

 

"I rarely listen to Somali songs..they somehow make me sad and remind me of my Mom" he said in a sad tone.

 

"What happened to Hooyo, Sorry I couldn't help asking Aboowe" and flashed her million watts smile.

 

"Oh, she passed away when I was fifteen" and for the first time in his life he didn't feel sad and hasn't felt tears in his eyes in his eyes.. in fact he was amazed by her kindness, he couldn't believe she called his mother 'Hooyo'. not only was she pretty and friendly but she is also kind. Again another argument developed within his head and it was like he was desperately trying to convince his heart & soul to like this strange and beautiful girl immediately.

 

"Oooh, I am so sorry, ilaahey hau naxariisto Hooyo Aboowe" she whispered in a true sadness and genuinely felt sorry for him because she knew how much she loved her Mom and couldn't imagine life without her.

 

Suddenly the bus stopped and came the familiar hissing as the front doors creaked open and in stepped a neatly dressed man with dark glasses and signaled at their direction and began to whisper into his walkie-talkie and everybody kept on staring at him for almost half a minute before he finally put his walkie-talkie in his pocket and removed his dark glasses and calmly said.. "Safia, sorry, I came as soon as I could". she didn't seem impressed and only nodded slightly.

 

"That's Mr Issa, my father's right hand man, he came eight minutes too late and I couldn't wait any longer , I hate being late for school and decided to take the bus instead" she said like she needed to explain her conducts to this novice guy with one of the saddest eyes she's ever seen.

 

She walked out in the same grace when she first boarded this God forsaken and old bus that he's been riding to school for the past twelve months and strange enough everyone was sad to see her journey come to an abrupt, thanks to this serious looking man with the walkie-talkie.

 

She went over to Issa and whispered something to him and then turned to the driver and generously smiled at him and said few things and immediately the bus driver nodded in agreement. She removed pen and pad from her expensive looking bag, (it was an expensive custom made handbag from the world famous designer Mr Maqaar) and began to write.

 

"it was nice to meet you and I am sorry for reminding you of your late Mom, I didn't mean to upset you, I was only trying to make a conversation Aboowe" she said in her that sweet voice of hers and at the same time handed him the note.

 

"it was nice meeting you too..ehh..uhhmm" he stuttered again.

 

"Safia, the name is Safia and don't you forget it" she ordered with that cute smile of hers and she was gone just as she suddenly appeared.

 

Suddenly he became the most interesting figure on the bus and now everybody was staring at him including the driver, who kept glancing at his direction every now and then and whenever their eyes caught, he smiled and it surprised him that the rest of the passengers smiling and not afraid to show their sudden mood swing, the same people who few minutes ago seemed disinterested in anything and everything including the most beautiful girl that ever set a foot on Almighty's earth.

 

He couldn't wait to see and read what was on the note and certainly couldn't do it in front of all these people who now settled into staring at him and watched his every move even when he scratched his head and shuffled his hair.

 

"at the corner of SYL Avenue please" he announced, it seemed strange because in all the 12 months he was riding this Bus, he never got off at SYL Avenue, he always got off the bus exactly at Aden Cadde Avenue and now that was few streets and few good minutes of walk away, but today he didn't care and wasn't worried about being late for school, in his eyes, he had far more important issue to take care of before anything else and that was reading Safia's note.

 

Salam Aboowe,

My name is Safia Xaaji Lacag, I am a second year student at Sayid Mohammed Abdulle Hassan College and I hope in God's will we meet once again and this time hopefully we won't have any bodyguards interrupting us. You can come down at my college on Wednesday (Today is Sunday) and I will meet you at the Cafeteria at 11:30 AM sharp and don't be late.

Yours Truly

Safia.

 

Xaaji Lacag, as his name clearly states owned more than half of the city while our dear friend's Dad owned not more than few worn out Macawiis that he bought from the Friday Second Hand Market and his son's pocket money for the whole day was mere 10 Shilling, while Safia spent more than 100 Shilling at Gas for her sports car everyday and just seemed to like the guy with the sad eyes out of pity and here was a guy from one of the poorest family in the entire city thinking the daughter of the richest man in the city had interest in him.

 

May God Bless The Dreamers.

 

 

Peace,Love & Unity.

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BOB   

Sayyid Muhammed Abdulle Hassan University is the most sought-after school in the land and it was exclusively for the spoiled brats in other words for rich kids as only few chosen ones could afford it and that is something our poor friend knew only too well.

 

Aristocracy is always cruel but credit to him for not letting it dent his hopes, in fact he was looking forward to he and Safia's second meeting and only God knows how many times he read the note and through the whole day he was replaying the whole scene bit by bit and he was amazed how beautiful yet friendly she was and how he wished that he could say the same about the girls at Moallim Basheer College which he attended.

 

 

The great ambitions numb the pain of ridicule and he wasn't only an ambitious young man but mighty brave as well and though he was painfully poor he was a very proud kid and he idolized his poor but very articulate father beyond words. He hated and cursed the world for not giving his Dad the break that he desperately craved for and his father was always diplomatic and somewhat philosophic about his failure as he liked to say "Success is only delayed failure".

"Come on Dad, you know you're a great painter who deserves far better than this" would be the immediate reply of his son and his sole companion for the past four years.

 

"Dad, I am going to Sayyid Muhammad University tomorrow" announced our very much smitten friend.

 

"Oh yeah? What..they finally came to their senses and reduced their ridiculous fee?"

 

"Dad, I am not joking, I am going there to meet a friend that I've met earlier today on the bus" continued the dreamer.

 

"A friend that rides on the cheapest bus in the land and yet rich enough to afford one of the most expensive schools in the whole world?...Come on dearest boy, you should know better than that." said the Aabo in sarcastic way.

 

"Aabo, do you know a man named Xaaji Lacag and would you ever stop calling me a 'Boy' protested the son.

 

"If Xaaji Lacag is the father of this bus commuting friend of yours then I am the father of the future millionaire" joked Mr Osman, who was in a joyous mood today.

 

"Aabo, who is Xaaji Lacag anyway and is he some one that I should know about? And by the way this friend is in fact She rather than He and yes you are already the proud Dad of the future millionaire"

 

"Xaaji Lacag is one of the richest men in the country that is why it defines logic his offspring would ride a bus, Son, check your pockets and wallet and see if there’s anything missing cause something isn't right here" warned Mr Osman who was every bit serious now.

 

"Dad, come on now and relax please, no thief in the world would find anything worth stealing in either my wallet or in my bag and one of these days you ought to give me more credit than you are prepared to give me now and please stop treating me like a Doqon, I wouldn't disgrace my kind and become the first poor child with extremely low IQ and I promise you, one day I will be rich and famous, I just need a ride to get to the audition" joked the son and they both laughed on this off the wall statement.

 

They were poor and lived in a tiny guri with a single bedroom but they were happy especially in each other's company as they always cheered each other up and put a genuine smile on each other's faces.

 

Deep inside his father was worried sick not because of his son's naivety by believing a girl from such an immensely wealthy back ground would have the time of the day for his poverty stricken son, this wasn't clash of cultures, far from it, this was rather clash of class and Mr Osman knew only too well that only money could find money and though his beloved son had the looks and the charm to boot, he lacked behind, perhaps when it came to the most vital part and that was indeed MONEY.

 

Truth be told, looks never won a man no fortune and the painful reality is that, the poor, of course suffer the oppression of scarcity from the cradle to the grave, even if she was indeed the daughter of Xaaji Lacag as she claims to be, (he showed his fathjer the note that safia wrote)then how could his son ever explain to her what the word 'Hunger' meant, that became he and his son's anthem and where on earth could he take her to with his few cents suppose she agreed to go out on a date with him, let's face it this girl wont be content with the dirty and cheap Muufo & Macsaro restaurants that he and his son dined frequently.

 

 

Peace,Love & Unity.

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BOB   

Mr Osman, knew his son was an intelligent young man but what he didn't know is that his son was, if there ever was one, an intelligent fool and as every parent would, he was hoping, no, he was praying that for once in his life, he was wrong about his son and he underestimated his intelligence and his street-smart ways that no aristocratic kid would ever know about, after all being poor has its advantages that no poor man in the world would ever come to admit.

 

Poverty taught this likeable family so many lessons and being a struggling artist who's been out of work for 18 years had left a deep stain on Mr Osman's conscience thus making him come to the gravy conclusion of, men aren't brothers but strangers and no one cared or interested in a down and out man, people just do not give a damn about each other. Mankind we are told, is divided into the haves and have-nots, but there are those who both have the good and do not and they lead the tensest lives.

 

Young Ibrahim learned the full extent of his father's worthlessness from the violent arguments between his dad and his would-be clients.

 

"I met so-and-so" his father would say , "he thinks he has a potential buyer for my paintings".

 

in fairness to Mr Osman, it must be noted that under the circumstances he was a model family man and the greatest Dad to his only child and no matter what, would never part from his beloved son and he made heroic efforts to keep his young son housed, clothed and fed, spending almost nothing on himself and even giving up on chewing Jaad and smoking cigarettes in order to save whatever little money he's earned through his paintings and he was more than happy to do anything just to see his son happy and grow.

 

Most children who are subjected to extreme poverty tend to develop insecurity and are blighted for life by the threats to their survival; panic dissolves their inner strength and turns it into venom, they either grow humble or spineless vicious but thanks to Mr Osman his son saw himself as a Prince and Safia his chosen Princess.

 

What does a true Prince know about hunger and starvation, in his mind he was already a Prince, a proud one with an independent spirit, he saw himself as a man of integrity who didn't look down on nobody, even if your name happened to be Xaaji Lacag and definitely our prince didn't mind mixing with the common man, that is why he was content to commute daily on the bus to and from his castle (School) and he had no desire to get involved in sordid wrangles with indifferent and hostile people for he covets nothing that is theirs, he only wants what is his by birthright and he saw Safia as his god given soul mate and no one dare argue with a Prince.

 

Shy and withdrawn by nature and habit, never staying anywhere long enough to make friends, Ibrahim lived in his head thus making him a strange loner and through curiosity he became interested in history and later in romantic novels, the reason being that History confirmed his convictions and romantic novels reassured him that it could be done.

 

 

Peace,Love & Unity.

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