Monday, Aug 18, 2008
My daughter reminded me the other day, via a sarcastic e-mail, how I had always displayed zero tolerance for scares, interruptions, sneak-ups and surprises of any kind.
She relayed an incident, and who am I to contradict her, when she walked into the living room and found me totally absorbed in the book I was reading.
Out of caring and courtesy she wanted to say "Hi" to me. Once she uttered that word lovingly, in the softest voice, I jumped and yelled: "Say something before you say hi...."
Such enormously twisted and strange logic, she noticed, in so short a phrase provided endless gossipy pleasures that she shamelessly shared with everyone willing to listen for years after that.
No amount of denials would dislodge her solid conviction that this really happened verbatim. As far as I can recall, I have always been like that; strung up and wired enough to be easily rattled by the slightest and most insignificant intrusion. Is it coffee, tea or me? I never knew for sure. Part of the problem, I guess, is that I like to focus on one thing at a time. I never claimed I can chew and walk at the same time. I leave this to the experts.
When I am watching a movie, for instance, I don't tolerate anything other than the desired soundtrack-period. I don't talk to anyone, and I discourage everyone from talking to me, in no uncertain glares and facial gestures. That's why I am not a nice person to sit next to, in case you like to chat loudly inside a movie theatre, as many people shamelessly do in Dubai. Thou art hereby warned.
When I am reading a book I want to live with the characters. I want to travel to their world, smell their roses and hear their footsteps. I want nothing to interrupt that mesmerising pleasure that great books magically provide. Books and babies are, thus, not a good mix in my book. Perhaps that's why gifted authors were notoriously negligent parents or lousy husbands.
When I am listening to music, I want to fly with the tunes, dance with the melodies and move along with the rhythms. I can never listen to half a song, my ears would suffer and I would strain to catch up what I missed. If I were a king my first decree would be to order music stores to open all night, every single day.
Sleepless nights
My second decree has something to do with Scarlett Johansson. I have gone through many sleepless nights trying to remember the name of a music piece or an author I was teased about during the day. Have you noticed how Arab musicians play the music of the late great singer Umm Kalthoum always towards the end of their performances? Because her music belongs to Tarab (treasured music); it creates a trance-like sensation called Saltana, from the word Sultan that overtakes all your senses and makes it very hard for you, as a musician and as a refined listener, to switch to some other form. The other part of the issue here is that I have always been, in my dad's eyes at least, a dysfunctional, idealistic dreamer.
Driven by my rebelliousness to enforce what I was accused of, my dreamy tendencies were duly injected with fire. My dad wanted me to study medicine or finance and I studied neither. To this day I hate needles and I can balance a cheque book only by placing it over my hand in an upright position for few seconds.
Although we made up long time ago, my dad still distrusts my bookishness and he certainly would have been more delighted if my meagre bank account turned from vaguely bankable to bankably vague. I am still puzzled by my 24-hour jumpiness.
On the other hand, I am secretly grateful it amuses my daughter. I won't tell her that.
Gulf News 2008. All rights reserved.
