هي والسراب
بقلم: محمود فهمي
ترجمها إلى
الإنجليزية: عبد اللطيف غسري
وعلى غير عادتها.
هي لم تبطئ فى الرد، وتركت ردا موجزا كعادتها. أن تكون شحيحة في ردودها. على ذلك
الغريب الذي يدق بابها ويلتقط المعاني من بين براثن ردودها...لم تكن تدري ٱن الرد
الموجز سوف يتبعه أحاديث وأحاديث مطولة...وكان هو يطرق بابها بحذر كأنه باب زجاجي
يخاف أن يتهشم قبل أن يلقي عليها التحية.
سمعت هي دقات الباب
كأنها دقات مطر متقطع يحنو على بابها.فتحت بابها وهي متوجسة من ذلك الغريب الذي
تسلل إلى فكرها وعقلها قبل أن ترد عليه السلام...رأته كعصفور هارب من أعاصير ومطر
وبرد الشتاء. يريد أن تمنحه هي الدفء .ترددت هي كثيرا من ذلك الغريب بوقت مجيئه
بزمن ووقت لا يبدو جيدا بالنسبة لها ماذا عساها أن تفعل وهي بقرارة نفسها
وكينونتها ألا تفعل...ولكن شيئا ما مختبئ بداخلها ظهر فجأة وتمالكت هي كل قواها
الكامنة من خلاصة تجاربها في الحياة وعصارة فكرها أن تكتشف سبر أغوار ذلك الغريب.
وما عساه أن يفعل وكأنها قبلت تحدي كامنا في عقلها أن تكتشف المجهول وتبحر على
شاطئه دون أن تغرق فى يمه فهي كعادتها عنيدة تهوى المغامرة والتحدي .رمقته بنظرة خاطفة في عينيه اختصرت فيها كل مسافات
زمن غابر يسكن أحداقه. لم تطل النظر هي ولكنها تباطأت بعض الشيء لترى تقاسيم وجهه
فهو يبدو في مطالع الأربعين من عمره ولكنها استعادت بعقلها ذاكرة قد مضت وكأن هذا
الوجه حفر بعقلها الباطن منذ زمن وهي لا تكتشف ملامح وجهه، بل إنها تستعيد رويدا
رويدا ملامحه وكأن غيمة تمر على وجهه تتلاشى.مع إنها كانت ليلة من ليالي الشتاء
الباردة والقاسية برودته شعرت هي بدفء غريب ينتشر بأوصالها كدفء موقدها الذي تلازمه دوما لتستأنس بدفئه وتسامر وحدتها
النفسية برغم كل الضجيج الذي يسكن أعماقها
.و كان القمر فيها بكامل استدارته يرسل أشعته الفضية على نوافذ قلبها ويغرس سهامه
برفق ويمضي.وكأنه يزيل غبار سنين مضت ويغزل بخيوط أشعته انسجة جديدة.لم تقف هي
طويلاًًحيال تلك التطورات السريعة والمتلاحقة وتظاهرت أنها لم تكترث كعادتها
ولكن ثمة أشياء
تغيرت هزت أرجاء عرشها لملمت ما تبقى منها وردت عليه التحية.كانت تبدو في الثلاتين
من عمرها إلا أن ضوء القمر مع بريق عينيها وشعرها الذهبي المتدلي على وجنتيها سرق
من عمرها عشر سنوات.فبدت شابة يافعة في أوج جمالها .وكأن جمالها لا يقل روعة عن
جمال تلك الليلة المفعمة بروائح الشتاء العطرة بل استعار الشتاء رائحته منها كما
استعار القمر ضوءه من بريق عينيها.بينما هو كان غارقا في التفكير والاندهاش وكأنه
انتقل عشرين عاما إلى الوراء بشروده في وجهها المتناثر عليه ضوء القمر وأصبحت هي
والحلم الذي كثيرا ما أتيا إليه في يقظته
وغفلته يتصارعان بداخله. كأنه كان آتيا من منفى بعيد حيث كان الزمان لا يعره وقته
ولا خارطة مكانه وإذ به يستنشق هواء وطنه ويتحسس مكانه كانت لحظة فارقة بحياته أن
يرى حلمه واقعا بين يديه.اكتفى بالصمت الغارق في جوارحه والقاطن في شرايينه
والقابع في سنواته.ولم يحرك سكونه سوى يد حانية تمتد إلى يديه
وشعر أنه الٱن يغرق
في يم كثير هو حاول الإبحار إليه دون جدوي غير أن شعر الآن بسعادة غامرة تجتاح كل
أوصاله وتأكل كل سنين منفاه ويخذه الحنين عمدا يفتت كل بقايا الفراق يقتل كل
الآهات الساكنة في الأعماق وكأنه الٱن بلحظة ميلاد جديدة تولد فيها كل الأمنيات
.وتغادر فيها كل التعاسات العابثة على ضفاف حياته حقا إنها مخاض جديد جعل من حلمه
حقيقة ملموسة.استحضر هو صورتها وهو مغمض العينين وكأنها لوحة أبدع فيها فنان وأعطى
عصارة فكره وجل خبراته كأنها وجهاً سرياليا آت من زمن قديم به رائحة الطبيعة
الخلابةوعبق التاريخ نائم على جبينها يسرد ٱنهار حب وشلالات عشق تنجرف من عينيها
وسلاسل من حرير هندي تنساب من جدائل شعرها وغابات خوخ تزين خديها .لا بل كانت
غابات الخوخ تتزين بخديها.هي لم تبق كامنة كعادتها وصافحته بحرارة الاشتياق.وارتمت
بين أحضانه كأنها ترمي كتلة لهيب في ماء بارد وتطفئ نار جسد أنهكه الفراق .ما زالت
زخات المطر تتساقط علي أوراق شجرة التوت العتيقة الذي شهدت أول لقاء لهما قبل
عقدين من تلك اللحظه.وتصدر أوراقها صوتا ينتبها هما إليه فينطلقان بنفس الوهلة فى
صمت مسرعين إليها يعانقانها ..وتتشابك الأيدي من جديد ويعلنان التحدي وكأنها لحظة
انبعاث ميلاد جديد
...ولكن إحساس ما مرير يجول هو بخاطره الآن
لماذا كان الرحيل ولمَ كان اللقاء وما بين الرحيل واللقاء تراهات أحلام مضت وشجرة
توت عاندت أن تبقى. برغم كل جبروت الطبيعة أن تقتلع جذورها وان ثستمر في تقديم
ثمرها لكل بائس أو جائع يمر بها أو يحتمي تحت ظلالها الفسيح وتحتضنه من جفاء
وتغيرات طبيعة حادة من لفحة حرارة شديدة الوطيس . لمَ الفراق سرق منا كل سنين
العمر لمَ لم نقاوم .لمَ ظل هذا الحب لم يسع أحلامنا. تساؤلات وتساؤلات وأفكار
مزدحمة. هل كنا أهون من شجر التوت أم إنها قاومت من أجل أن تشهد لقاءنا من جديد ،
كانت لحظات قاسية جدا مرت بطيئة رغم سرعة
أحداثها المتطردة والمتوالية وكأن تلك اللحظات اختزلت عصارات تلك السنين المنصرمة
وما فيها من ألم وشوق وجفاء وعتاب، استسلمت هي لدموعها وكأنها تنفض غبار سنوات عجاف
سكنت أرماق جسدها ارتعدت في فكرها وأسلمت نفسها بطواعية وبذهن حاضر ونفس صافية
وبأسارير هادئة لتلك اللحظات؛ وكأنها تعيد اكتشاف ذاتها. تخلت هي عن صلابتها
وعنادها على غير عاداتها؛
كانت تشعر وكأنها
تائهة بصحراء مترامية الأطراف تنجذب الي السراب وكأنه فردوسها المفقود تتأمل
أشياءها المبعثرة على حبات رمل لاتنتهي .تراقب ضوضاء داخلها تصنع فوضى عارمة في
بحار الصمت الموجعة
..مرت تلك اللحظات وكأنها دهر عات آت من خلف الذكريات المتوالية
والمتلاحقة وكأنها شريط سينمائي يدق ناقوس
السنوات النائمة، وبرفق هو يمسك معصم يدها ويتجها نحو شاطئ البحيرة التي تلوح لهما
بشاطئها الذهبي عندما تنثر عليها الشمس بصيص أشعتها المختفية خلف غيوم تلك الليلة
..وكأن الأمل يولد من جديد بولادة متعثرة المشهد كان لا يقل روعة وجمالا عن جمال
فستانها الفضي المرصع بالزمرد؛ كانت وظلت تحتفظ بغموضها حتى بلحظات هذا اللقاء لم
تكن تعي أن ذلك الغموض كان سببا للابتعاد والفراق الذي أكل اجمل سنوات العمر
بينهما وكأنها مازالت لا تعي أن المصارحة والمكاشفة تزيل أتربة وغبار الشك
.وكانت تلك الخيوط ما هي إلا لملامح ظل
واقع تعيش فيه تبحر فيه ولكن البحر دائما هائج تتلاحق أمواجه بشدة عاتية كسرعة
أحداث حياتها الكامنة في ذاتها فقط . كانت تبحث دائما عن مأوى لخزائن أسرارها
الدفينة .وكانت تلقي بأحلامها ومكنون سريرتها بذلك الصندوق الحديدي تباعا وهي توقن
بأن أحدا ما لا يستطيع فك شفراته أو حتى الوصول إليه .نمت علاقة لا تستطيع هي
وصفها بينها وبين صندوقها أهو ارتياح أو هروب أم أمل أو صديق وفي لا يشي بأسرار ذاتها .استيقظت هي من
غفلتها على صوت رياح عاتية تعصف على جدار بابها،
رسمت على وجهها
ابتسامة زائفة وعادت لتكمل ليلتها في براثن وحدتها
Deluded By Mirage
By MAHMOUD FAHMY
Translated from Arabic by ABDELLATIF RHESRI
It was unusual for her to reply promptly. Yet, she
only left a brief reply as usual; for she was always so brief in her replies,
to that stranger who knocked on her door and picked up meanings out of her
responses. She did not know that a brief reply would entail such long talks.
And he would knock on her door very cautiously, as if he had been knocking on a
glass door which he was afraid it would break, before he greeted her.
She heard her door being knocked repeatedly like drops
of rain falling on gently on her door. She opened her door being suspicious
about that stranger who had sneaked into her mind and heart before she even
greeted him back. She saw him like a bird running from hurricane and winter
rain and cold weather. He wished she would grant him warmth. She was very much
reluctant about that stranger who had appeared in a time not good for her. What
could she do, while she, in her depths, was unwilling to do anything? Yet something hidden inside her appeared
suddenly, but she restrained herself out of lifetime experience and wisdom and
decided to find out the secret of that stranger and what he was planning to do.
She seemed to have accepted a challenge deep in her mind to find out the
unknown and sail on its waves without drowning in its ocean. For she was
stubborn and adventurous by nature.
You sent
She cast a swift glance into his eyes which summed up
a whole lifetime that was hidden inside them. She did not look long, but she
lingered a bit to see his facial features. He seemed to be forty years old, But
she recalled in her mind a memory that had long passed. That face had been
engraved in her unconsciousness a long time ago. So she was not now discovering
his facial features. She was rather slowly recalling them. As if a cloud had
shaded his face then faded away. Though it was one of the long and severe
winter nights, she felt a sort of weird warmth that spread in all her body like
the warmth of her stove close to which she kept sitting to entertain her lonely
soul, despite the turmoil in her depths. As the moon was casting its silver
beams of light on her heart and gently thrusting its light arrows in it before passing away after having
removed the dust of years and woven new tissues with its rays. She did not spend
much time considering those quick and continuous developments, and pretended
she did not care as usual. However,
there were many things that had changed and rocked her entire being. She
picked up what was left of her shattered self and returned his greeting. She
appeared to be thirty years of age, but the moonlight along with her glamorous
eyes and golden hair, part of which was hanging on her cheeks, made her appear
ten years younger. So, she looked like a young teen girl at the prime of her
beauty which was no less fantastic than the beauty of that night that was
filled with winter's fragrant odours. Perhaps, winter had borrowed its odour
from her, as the moon had borrowed its light from her bright eyes. Meanwhile,
he was immersed into thinking and astonishment. As if he had gone back twenty
years of age with his staring at her face on which the moonlight was cast. It
turned out that she and the dream that had kept coming back to him in both his
wakefulness and absent-mindedness were conflicting inside him. As if he was
coming from a distant exile where time did not care to show him the date or
place map of his existence. Now he was inhaling the air of his homeland and
trying to identify where it existed. It was a defining moment in his life to
see his dream coming true right before his eyes. He just kept aloof, and
silence submerged his entire being and dwelt in his veins and the years of his
lifetime. Nothing stirred his quietude except a tender hand that stretched out
and touched his hands. He felt now that he was drowning in a large sea in which
he had tried to sail before but in vain. Now he felt an overwhelming happiness
that invaded all his body parts and eclipsed all the years he had spent in his
exile. It did intentionally away with the nostalgia, ended the remains of
separation and silenced all the moans hidden deep inside. He was now at the
moment of new birth in which all the wishes were born and all the feelings of
sadness were gone off the shore of his life. It was really a moment of birth
that made his dream come true. He recalled her image with his eyes closed like
an artist that would creatively produce a painting in which he instilled the
juice of his intellect and the best of his experience. Like a surreal face of a
maiden girl coming from an ancient time with the odour of wonderful nature and
the flavour of history.that lay on her brow releasing rivers of love and
waterfalls of desire to flow between her eyes, and chains of Indian silk
hanging smoothly from her hair strands, and trees of peaches embellishing iher
cheeks, or maybe it was rather the trees of peaches that were embellished with
her cheeks. She did not stand motionless as usual. She shook hands with him out
of warm eagerness and throw herself into his bosom, like a flame thrown in cold
water, to put out fire in a body worn out with separation. Rain drops were
still falling on the ancient mulberry tree that had witnessed their first
meeting two decades earlier. Its leaves uttered a sound which as soon as they
both took notice of, they ran swiftly towards it to embrace it. The hands got
entangled again and they declared defiance as if it were a moment of new birth.
But a kind of bitter emotion was lingering in his mind
at that moment. Why had separation had to take place? why had reunion happened?
And between separation and reunion, many dreams had gone, yet the mulberry tree
had stubbornly remained standing despite the tyranny of nature, not allowing
itself to be uprooted. It rather went on yielding its fruits to every miserable
or hungry person that passed by it or sought its wide shadow. It would hold and
protect him from harsh changing weather and from the scorching heat of the sun.
Why hid separation steal our lives? Why did not we resist it? Why was this love
always unable to contain our dreams? Questions upon questions and plenty of
thoughts. Were we weaker than the mulberry tree? Or did she keep standing just
to witness our meeting again one day? They were moments of much cruelty that
had passe
You sent
that had passed like ages despite the swiftness of its
unremitting and sequential events. As if those moments summed up all the pains,
longing, estrangement and blame of all those past years. Though she gave in to
her tears, she shook the dust of the
past fruitless years from her body and mind, and gave up herself willingly and
with awareness, serenity and calm to those moment. She looked like she was
discovering herself again, unusually giving up her solidity and stubbornness.
She felt like she was lost and wandering in a
sprawling desert, attracted to the mirage as if it were her lost paradise,
contemplating her objects scattered on endless grains of sand.
She watched over a tumult that was brawling into
overwhelming chaos in the painful oceans of silence.
Those moments elapsed like eternity that went back to
some unremitting unstoppable memories like a movie that tolled the bell of
sleeping years. While he was gently holding her wrist, both of them heading for
the lake shore that appeared to them from afar with its golden surface, as the
sun cast a glimmer of its hidden rays from behind the clouds of that night. It
looked like hope was born again in obstructed labour. The whole scene was not
less splendid and glamorous than her silver dress inlaid with emerald.
She kept being vague even in the moments of that
meeting. She did not realize that vagueness had been the cause of separation
and estrangement that had wasted the best years of their lifetime. As if she
was still unaware that frankness and openness would remove the dust of
suspicion.
Those threads were nothing more than the shadowy
features of a reality in which she was living and sailing like a continuously
rough sea whose raging waves ran as swiftly as the events of her life which
remained concealed in her soul only. She was always looking for a haven for her
hidden secrets. She would consecutively throw her dreams and confidential
secrets in that iron box, quite sure that nobody could decode it or even reach
it. There had grown a relationship between her and her box of confidentiality.
Was it relief, escape, hope or trust in a friend that would never divulge her
own secrets? She woke up from her unawareness at the sound of a strong wind
blowing at her own door.
She put a false smile on her lips and went on spending
her night amid the clutches of her loneliness.
إرسال تعليق