Fleeting Moments and Confessions (Nimco and Diiriye)

[Paragon]

Thought I'd share something I've been playing around with. Please tell me what you think of it. Thanks.

------

 

Part One

 

FLEETING MOMENTS AND CONFESSIONS

 

The afternoon summer sun evenly flung its orange rays through the windows, illuminating the kitchen’s crimson painted walls. Crimson walls, oh how so tragically unfashionable, she thought. But crimson was her mother’s favourite colour, who always joked that the colour reminded her of the passionate love she once had with her father. That was before he went off marrying a second wife, to spread his seeds so to speak.

 

While in the kitchen, she would occasionally edge closer to the sitting-room, throwing quick arrowed glances at its direction, to spy on Diiriye. The contrast between creamy colours of the sitting-room and the darkness of the figures inside it, gives me even with quick glances a better view, she always believed. It had been what she liked about the sitting-room and its colours.

 

On a previous occasion, when an elderly man and his son came visiting her at home to seek her hand in marriage, quick glances was all it took her to see her suitor’s not-so-handsome face. And for that reason, she had to turn down a prospective marriage proposal. What a bummer, she remembers muttering.

 

But this time around, the man occupying the suitor’s position was a tall, charming and handsome man his late twenties. He was the perfect portrait of the kind of man she would gladly accept a proposal from, simply at face value. No second thoughts. The problem, however, was that the man wasn’t visiting with a marriage proposal in hand. He just happened to be a friend of her cousin, and was there for altogether a different reason.

 

Unbeknownst to her expectant thoughts, Diiriye aloofly sat on the couch, listening to love songs. He seemed very much absorbed between the melody and the ever deepening meaning of the songs’ lyrics. Still barricading herself in the kitchen, Nimo felt the strong urge to passionate sing along as loud her lungs would permit her.

 

Whenever the song that most interested her was blasted out from the stereo player, she would feel an immense yearning to simply burst into the sitting-room, and encourage Diiriye to loosen up and sing. Sing, for heaven’s sake! But she held back her excitements. In return, she decided to take a lengthy look at him.

 

Now candid and attentive to study Diiriye’s reactions to particular songs, she wished he would sing along as much as she wanted to, especially when some of her favourite songs were playing. If he were to do so, she believed, it would be possible that he may share not only her appreciation of these songs, but also acknowledge and compliment her for her good taste in Somali music. That would at least be a positive start, she felt. Such were her presumptuousness.

 

She did not know Diiriye that well, yet in all the times she saw him, she couldn’t help feeling in the back of her brain, that he was the kind of man that could make her his lover, or if over optimistic, his future wife. How she desired things would turn out that way.

 

After a while of being cooped up in the kitchen, she felt she could no longer hide in there forever, and took the bold step to reveal her seductive presence, be it to tempt his attention for a moment. Slowly, she walked out of the kitchen with her eyes shyly lowered, to only look up straight at him once she was sure she was standing right before him. The seductive has unleashed with all its intricate allures and tempestuousness.

 

However, the poor fellow into freeze of senses, his mouth gasping for air and his eyes unsheathed to the form of human flesh entirely made of oozing sexiness. Gulp. She too gulped few pockets of empty air. She was puzzled. What’s up with this fool? Take hints, dummy! I am seducing you! An encounter with a modern girl, this was surely.

 

 

Shame, she was eying him suggestively, but he was miles away from picking up hints or any other meaning to the brave lady’s asserted advances. To her dismay at that particular moment, she thought, what is more disgraceful than to harbour affections and willingness to belong to a man, when he isn’t least bit appreciative of the opportunity? But what good would such an opportunity for a guy who is mortified be alone with a young lady in her own family home.

 

This time though, there was no way he could avoid it. Nimo’s other cousin, Nora, who is never usually away from the house, has that day gone out to drive her mother Muxubo to her relations.

 

Her absence was to her delight and to Diiriye’s distress. For her, the perfect opportunity has presented itself, and for the first time in her short life, she could confront Diiriye with the sudden affections she seem to be taking root in the fertile soils of her heart.

 

Dressed modestly with a traditional scarf, she adjusted it to reveal parts of her jet black and beautiful silky hair. And instead of talking to him, she cleared her mind, and started to sing along with the Somali song that was playing at that moment:

 

“Maxaan kaa dhugsayoo

Inaan dhaayaha ku saaroon

Ku dheehdo dooney!”

“Maxaan kuu dhabar adaygoo

habeenimo kugu dhadhabayoon”

“Dhuuntiyo laabtana

Kaa dhex baarey!”

 

How I awaited hearing from you

And to lay my sight on you

To have my eyes feast on you

Oh how I persevered to have you

And in nights hallucinated of you

And within my heart and throat

Oh how I searched for you”

 

Diiriye felt somewhat confounded about what she was alluding to. What the fcuk is she doing now? Had he been giving out any affectionate signals, he thought, he would have expected this lady behave this unbecoming manner. He clutched both of his hands unto the couch, thrusting back his body weight trying to avoid Nimo who was poking a finger at him.

 

Her face displayed intense emotions; her eyes were teary, her composure confused, as she confessed all her days affections towards him. Along the way, she felt as though the confession was drain all sensibility and energy out of her being, and making her emotional numb.

 

Her frantic efforts were far from fruition. She felt disappointed. Even more distressful, she was beginning to feel that her shoddy judgments were mistaken. She begun to perceive Diiriye as not being the kind of man she thought he would be.

 

For her, a man must have the skill of getting hints when given out by a lady, but as concerns Diiriye, even when he was made a direct declaration, he does not seem to yield.

 

While she stood there in front of the couch, grieved and motionless, Diiriye crept up from the couch slowly, and went towards the CD player to switch it off. The second the music stopped playing, Nimo’s cousin, Hajir, entered the house unexpectedly.

 

He found himself standing in the sitting room. He immediately looked across the room, and saw Nimco’s teary eyes. Diiriye’s discomforted figure stood next to the CD player, unmoving.

 

Nimco turned towards Hajir, and speechlessly pointed a finger on Diiriye, now hanging his head in shame. She was shaken, and tears rolled down her cheeks. In a matter of a split second, alarm bells went off in Hajir’s ever suspicious mind.

 

However innocent things might have looked, Hajir assumed the worst of it, and started to yell. Diiriye, on the other hand, didn’t and couldn’t utter a word. Haajir thought Diiriye’s silence was a complicit affirmation of the ugly thing he tried to do to his cousin.

 

‘Get out,’ Hajir ordered, ‘you filthy b.astard!’

‘What!?’ Diiriye cried.

‘Just get out before I kill you!’ Haajir repeated.

 

Nimo, whimpering and heartbroken from the turn of events, couldn’t hold back from crying.

 

’No Hajir!’ she cried, ‘it is not what you think.’

‘What the hell happened then,’ Hajir shouted.

‘Nothing, I swear, nothing’ Nimco explained.

‘Tell me, what he has done to you?’

‘Nothing, I swear. It was my fault’ Nimo replied.

‘Fine, you can explain it to your mother and brothers then’ Hajir said.

‘No! Please don’t tell them anything’ Nimo cried out again.

 

Diiriye stood there, looking even more distressed than before. He contemplated what the consequences could be if her mother and the bothers were to be informed. He has had disagreements with one of Nimo’s brothers before over a girl both of them liked.

 

Diiriye was convinced that if Nimo’s brother was to be given the opportunity, he would have no second thoughts of murdering him. Her brother was that kind of person. Diiriye whispered to himself, ‘great! Now I am to be killed for a woman I harbour no feelings for! I wish she was Suad. I wouldn’t be least worried dying because of her!’

 

 

PS:I know some of my friends my have read parts of this story in another place. But I promise to pass you the parts from where I left it off for you. Bear with me for now. Thanks.

[Laba-X]

Brilliant stuff ya Xubeer... Soo Hor!

[N.O.R.F]

I was waiting for you to finish off the Interupted Dreams one,,,,,,,,

[Som@li]

Good job, keep it coming!

[-Nomadique-]

That was great Xubeer. When can we get part two?

[Ms DD]

Who is Xubeer? Unless he is the Paragon one, Xubbeer is guilty of plaigrism.

[-Lily-]

Sheekadan in la cayiliyo ee u bahantahay, otherwise it's ok.

[Paragon]

^^ Thank you all .

 

Diiriye realized the gravity of the situation in which he has found himself. His only determination was to leave the house well before any of Nimo’s brothers showed up. He gently picked up his coat from the couch, and begun to proceed towards the sitting room’s door, where Hajir stood.

 

As he approached the door, he could sense Hajir’s body language change. He noticed Hajir’s fist tightening as if in preparation to strike him. Diiriye couldn’t help but make a silent prayer, saying ‘Oh God, let me out of here safely. Let there be no punch-ups. Get me out of this house in one piece.’

 

As he got near the door, his heart started palpitating. The bounding noise in his chest got alarmingly louder by the by seconds. Nimo didn’t move an inch, her face still wet with tears. Her fingers were nervously placed on her face, overwhelmed by the dread of anticipating what Hajir might do to Diiriye.

 

All sorts of fears went through her mind, but the biggest fear concerned Hajir’s misconception of what had happened. This would certainly make him attack Diiriye, she feared. Nimo knew Hajir was a big fellow whose attack of Diiriye could result in a serious injury. The prospect frightened her.

 

 

 

Trained as an analyst, her mind went into an analytical mode within seconds. When her mind is in this sort of mode, if the danger she perceives is quite great, she would engage in predictive exercises that only frightens her even more. In the few seconds it took Diiriye to pass through the sitting-room’s door, hyperventilation took hold of her altogether.

 

On top of it, she was confronted by a serious hypothetical dilemma of ‘what ifs’. What if Hajir assaults Diiriye; what if it becomes a police matter, she asked herself. She knew only too well what the consequences would be, but she didn’t know how she would deal with them.

 

She couldn’t bear the thought of either implicating Hajir or lying, which would result in the loss of whatever imagined affections Diiriye might have developed for her. Neither could she bring herself to the idea of lying under oath. These thoughts about what ifs only confounded her.

 

Fortunately, however, Diiriye managed to get out the sitting-room and also the house, without any provocation from Haajir. Nimo couldn’t immediately regain the focus of her mind to this, as she was dwelling amid thoughts of anticipation. She did not regain her composure until Hajir insensitively shouted something at her.

‘What!?’ she repeatedly screamed, ‘where is he? Where is he?’

 

Haajir, unable to understand her sudden outburst of questions, disdainfully replied;

‘Are you blind? The son of a ***** left!’

‘Thank God!’ she said with a great sigh.

 

She then took to her feet and sprinted towards her upstairs room, shut the door and begun sobbing uncontrollably.

 

Dazed and disorientated, once out of the house, Diiriye jogged along a bus stopping somewhere not far. He jumped on the bus, and swiftly climbed up to the upper deck. He couldn’t even be bothered to touch in his oyster bus-pass.

 

 

He seated himself on the deck’s front seats, grabbed onto the edge of the seat in front of his, and broke down into tears. These were tears rolling down for many reasons. He was equally as relieved as he was worried of future consequences.

[Zafir]

‘Get out,’ Hajir ordered, ‘you filthy b.astard!’

‘What!?’ Diiriye cried.

‘Just get out before I kill you!’ Haajir repeated.

What a shame.

 

He seated himself on the deck’s front seats, grabbed onto the edge of the seat in front of his, and

broke down into tears. These were tears rolling down for many reasons.

He was equally as relieved as he was worried of future consequences.

I cries once in a city bus on my way home, but it wasn't because I got called names or got scared of that girl's brothers. It was because I was dumped and it was painfull. That was the only time I can recall crying, however diiriye's reasons are confusing and sad, he cries whenever Nimo crys. I mean what the freak is that?

[Pujah]

^^ He is in touch with his feminine side

[Paragon]

Lool Zafir. Pujah, usheeg nooh. Getting intouch is the new 'in' thing .

[NGONGE]

^^ The 14th must have been a busy day on SOL. I missed out on this gem of a thread.

 

Good stuff saaxib though the crying on the bus is a tad melodramatic. But I guess the reasons for it will be revealed in good time.

 

Ps

I'm not nit picking here but the final version of this tale would need a bit of proof reading.

[Ibtisam]

I cries once in a city bus on my way home, but it wasn't because I got called names or got scared of that girl's brothers. It was because I was dumped and it was painfull. That was the only time I can recall crying, however diiriye's reasons are confusing and sad, he cries whenever Nimo crys. I mean what the freak is that?

Zafir must be the only guy who has ever admitted to crying on the city bus without people laughing and bullying and labelling him, I mean the guys below you did not even blink, let alone pass judgement! that is a something guys take to their grave yaa zafir!

 

Paragon I agree with Zafir, this guy is a *n*a*c*s*.

EDIT: First I was suprised that word got censored, second I was surprised I spelt it correctly for it to get censored!

[Buuxo]

Lol@ ghanima, how are you dear?

[Paragon]

NGONGE, yeah the 14th!

 

Melodramatic? Sorry, I couldn't help it - just had to fall for it. Anyway, about the proof-reading, it is something I rarely do uneasy its an essay that I am writing. Just too lazy I suppose.

 

Ghanima, lol. Maybe Zafir speaks for some of us and thats why we didn't call him names . Ever thought of that? I know Zafir is brave enough to come out with it but hey! give us time