I Forgot to Tie My Shoes
Feriel Farah Bouhamida
Abu Dhabi Corniche
The clock shows half past four in the morning. I welcomed this morning and suddenly decided to see the world at dawn, just like the day I was born and came into this world. I think I was in a hurry to come out early.
I didn't think much and went to put on whatever was thrown on the chair in the room, and yes, the clothes were indeed black, in case curiosity gets the better of you about my favourite colour. I didn't hesitate much to leave my phone in the room, but I tricked my mind into thinking that my phone needed battery, while in reality, my mind was the one that needed charging.
I went down the building stairs, unlike usual, as the elevator didn't tempt me today. The weather is pleasant, and the air kisses my cheeks as if to wish me good morning... Oh, I forgot to tie my shoelaces properly. I think it's because I was busy tricking my mind into not bringing the phone. I took a few seconds to tie my shoelaces, and there I remembered how my mother used to fear that I might fall one day because of them, since I was always in a hurry and never pulled them tight. I think this applies to my life now, not just my shoelaces. I raised my head to a blue sky adorned with the sun's spectrums on the horizon.
Source: Wikipedia
I started walking with quick, random steps, as if following the chirping of birds on the trees, since I had no plan for the path I wanted to walk today. And how wonderful it is to have no plan at all. But the blue sea enticed me, and I followed the scent of the breeze until I found myself at a pedestrian crossing. I don 't know if the signal took seconds or minutes because I was lost in thought... Am I waiting for a signal just to cross the road, or am I also waiting for a signal to start living?
A few steps and I reached the sea…
It was calm, unlike my emotions.
It was cold, unlike my heart.
And it was vast, unlike my thoughts.
I continued walking, eyes fixed on the horizon. Suddenly I spotted an old man carrying his fishing rod, waiting in silence... He would bend slightly to adjust its lines, then raise it a little to see if he had caught anything. I watched him for a few minutes. He stood there, clinging to a small hope, and with a single tug, he'd be greeted by the morning catch.It's not my habit to talk to strangers, but what could I do? I left my phone, and now I feel that the best thing to do is to say good morning to someone I don 't know.
"Hey... good morning," I said, just like that, without hesitation or thought.
He replied in a calm voice,
"Good morning." And there I felt a little relieved, because I would have been very embarrassed if he had reacted differently. I said to myself, now what? Am I going to stand frozen? Of course not – he ' s waiting for me to continue the conversation.
I said in a hesitant tone: "Is there any fish here? I mean, are you sure there are fish in this area?"
He took some time to think while we both watched the rod.
Then he replied, saying: "The fish doesn't come because you want it now, or because you're in the right place. It comes when its time comes. W e cast the line, then we wait... patiently. "
I replied: "Have you been waiting for a long time?"
He said: "Since before dawn, I don 't remember exactly."
He noticed the signs of astonishment and surprise on my face.
"If I rush, I'll go It seems the problem wasn't with the time... but with my patience. I took a deep breath and stood beside him, contemplating his simple gear he had brought with him.
We were both silent, and I transformed from a stranger strolling along the corniche at dawn to an observer of a fishing rod belonging to someone I don't know.
And in a moment, he broke the silence, saying:
"My name is Robert, and you?"
I answered quickly: "I'm Farah, nice to meet you."
He repeated my name twice, as if trying to pronounce the "H" correctly. On the third attempt, he added a few words to my name and said: "Farah... the sea does not reward the impatient, and neither does life."
And in the seconds while I was absorbing Robert's words, his fishing rod interrupted us with light but noticeable tugs.
He said: "Come, it's the fish we've been waiting for. I told you, it only arrives on time."
I felt overwhelming happiness, and the fish felt like it was meant for me.Well, maybe Robert's fish wasn't mine, but his advice was definitely mine. I thanked him and continued walking, with those words accompanying me. Then I sat on a wooden bench and began to contemplate the movement of the tree branches, how they swayed calmly here and there, and above them a little sparrow hopping between its branches... And when the time neared six, people started appearing around me, each on their own path in life -- some exercising, some heading to work. As for me, I kept Robert's words in my ear, stopped by the cafeteria for some karak tea to lift my mood, and returned home. But this time, my shoelaces weren't untied...