(الابن_العاق)
بقلم: ولاء صبرى الدسوقى
ترجمها إلى الإنجليزية عبد اللطيف غسري
إنه قد أطاع حتى مل الطاعة..وتاقت نفسه
للعصيان
قد أملى الجميع عليه رغباتهم...كبلوه بأفكارهم...وسلبوه
حق الاختيار...
كان من طفولته حتى ريعان شبابه...طوع أيديهم..لا
يلوى علي شيء غير السعى لإرضاء من حوله..مخافة أن تهتز صورته فى أعينهم
ثم..ثم...أدرك أخيراً.. وبعد طول سبات...أنه
لم يكن إنساناً مثلهم..لم يكن ليملى على أحد منهم رأيه..ولا يتدخل فى شئونهم...بل لم
يكن ليستشيره أحد...وكيف ذاك
..وهو لا
يخطو أية خطوة إلا بأمرهم...أيتواضعون ويعتدون برأيه...كلا...أو لم يسلبوه إياه..كان
عبداً رقيقاً أقرب منه رجلاً رشيداً.. عاقلاً مختاراً...
قد غالبوه على أمره ... ولم يواجهوا صعوبة
تذكر فى محو شخصيته...فقد كان يؤثر السلامة..ويكره أكثر ما يكره التشاحن...
قد غالبته نفسه قبلهم ...حتى كانت تلومه
بشدة..إذا بدت منه أى بادرة للعصيان...فيعود معتذراً لمن أظهر له السخط حتى ولو كان
طفلاً صغيراً...
بيد أنَّ نفسه ثابت أخيراً إلى رشدها
.. وأدرك النعمة الكبرى التى سُلِبت منه...الحرية..ما أعذب تلك الكلمة
...ثم ما لبث أن يتشدق بهذه الكلمة..لكل من يقابله...ولن
تجد من يمدح النعم..أكثر ممن سلبت منه...إذ قد قضى عمراً غير قصير فى جلبابهم...
ولما كانوا قد ألفوا خضوعه واستسلامه..فقد
هزتهم تلك الكلمة بقوة..وظنوا به ضرباً من الجنون...أو أنه يعانى الحمى...ثم ذكروه
بٱيات الطاعة لأولى الأمر...ولم ينسوا تذكرته بالطبع جزاء العقوق...
فمضي يتفكر ملياً فى نفسه ..ثم زادت ثورة
نفسه وجمح خياله وتخيل حاله اسبارتاكوس
قد أتى ليحرر نفسه وسائر العبيد...فما كان
منه إلا أن علا صوته كقذيفة مدوية انطلقت من فوهة مدفع فصمَّت الٱذان..ومضى يصرخ كالمحموم
الذي اشتد هذيانه ..وبصوت متهدج...
"بعد كل هذا العمر..أنا عاق
قد شاب شعرى ولم أعرف كلمة لا ...قد ضاعت
ٱمالى سدىً
أنا عاق...وأنتم لصوص..سلبتمونى نفسي...وأضعتم
عمرى...
باسم الطاعة
أنا عاق...أجل قد عققت نفسي
حدثوا عنى ما شئتم ..اضربوا كفاً بكف وقولوا
قد جُن عقله..اللهم إنى أحمدك أن قد سُلِب عقلي...اللهم لك الحمد..أن صرت مجنوناً...مجنون
يريد الاختيار
ثم ضحك ضحكة مدوية..أقرب للنحيب
إن لم أختر مولدى ولن أعرف موعد مأتمى
وما بينهما..قد فرضتموه على جبراً...عن
أى شيء سأحاسب؟!
..اللهم أعفنى من الحساب..اللهم أعفنى من الحساب.."
ثم خرج لا يلوى علي شيء...كان كطفلٍ مذعور
فقد أمه فى زحام الطريق...فذاك أول شيء يفعله بإرادته..
أن يخرج للحياة بنفسه..ولو ضل الطريق..ربما
يهتدى بعد حين..أو يفخر أمام نفسه أنه هم ذات يومٍ بالرحيل....
The
Disobedient Son
A short story
by Walaa Sabri El Dissouki
Translated
from Arabic by ABDELLATIF RHESRI
He obeyed until
he got fed up with obedience, and yearned for disobedience. Everybody dictated
his own wishes to him. They crippled him with their thoughts and usurped his
right of making a choice.
Since his
childhood until his young age, he was at their beck and call. All he was up to
was seeking the satisfaction of those around him, lest his image in their eyes
would be shaken.
Then, he
realized, at last after many years of negligence, that he was not a human being
like them. He would not dare dictate his wish or point of view on anyone, or
meddle into the affairs of anyone of them. Nay, nobody sought his consultation.
How would they do that, given the fact that he could not take the least step
without their permission? Would they become so modest as to care about his
point of view? No! Had not they usurped him of it? He was considered a frail
slave rather than a wise, reasonable, independent man. They overpowered him and
easily erased his personality. For, he would stick to the safe side, and hated
clashing with others. He had even been overpowered by himself before them. He
would be severely blamed by himself if he showed any sign of disobedience. He
would then apologize to anyone whom he caused to be indignant, even if he might
be a little child.
Now, he
regained, at last, his senses, and realized that the greatest gift he was
usurped of was freedom. How sweet that word sounded! He used to ironically rant
on about it to anyone whom he met. For, those who are derived of a gift tend to
praise it more. He spent a no short time under their shadow.
As they were
used to his being submissive and unresisting, that word shook them violently.
They thought he had gone crazy, or he was suffering from fever. They reminded
him of his past instances of obedience, and did not forget to lecture him about
the consequences of disobedience.
He began to
ponder a bit privately. Then, he grew more rebellious, and his imagination went
too far until he thought himself like Spartacus coming to liberate himself and
all the slaves. Thus, his voice went off as clamorously as a shell launched
from a tank muzzle and nearly deafened all ears. He kept on screaming like a
deliriously feverish raving person.
"After
all this lifetime, I'm a disobedient person"; he said in a harsh voice,
"my hair has turned gray, and I've never known the word 'no'. All my
wishes are gone for nothing". I'm disobedient, and you are thieves. You've
stolen my soul and wasted my lifetime in the name of obedience'.
I'm
disobedient. Yes, I disobey myself.
Say whatever
you wish about me. Clap your hands together and say; "He's gone
crazy". Thank God for taking away my
mind. Thank
God that I've become mad. A madman under the test.
Then, he had
a clamorous sobbing-like laugh.
If I haven't
chosen my date of birth and won't know the date of my death and whatever it is
between both dates which you've imposed on me, then what are you holding me to
account for?
God spare me
the ordeal of being held to account.
Then, he got
out indifferently. He was like a horrified kid who has lost his mother in the
crowd on the road. That was the first thing he ever did with his will. To get
out for life by himself, even if he had gone astray; maybe he would be guided eventually.
Or to boast off in front of himself that he had once been about to go away.
قصة جميلة وترجمة رائعة
ردحذف