Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume Six November-December 2024.
Arab Poets & Writers
Some birds do not fly, story by Ali Hassan.
Translated from Arabic by Dr. Salwa Gouda.
When she spotted the first kite in the sky, she realized it was summer; it returned with its beautiful kites, but her father did not return. He promised her he would make her a kite from reeds, decorating it with all the colors she loved, then he left quickly and did not keep his promise!
She remembered her father; she wiped away a tear that escaped from her eye with one hand, and with the other, she waved to a kite soaring in the sky.
Despite her brokenness, her sorrow for her father quickly dissipated when joy blossomed in her heart, flowers sparkling in colors resembling the colors of the kite on the horizon.
She followed it passionately as it danced before her among the clear blue summer clouds, fueled by hope and longing. Every time she examined the sky, dozens of kites appeared to her; it was hard for her small heart to count them, but it raced faster, almost escaping from her chest, soaring high with these amazing flocks!
She jumped like a bird that had never flown before; she failed. She tried again with determination, hoping to catch one, to reach a dream that had been haunting her since she spotted the first beautifully colored kite in the air, its long tail carried by the wind, playing on the bells, making it look like a bird flapping its wings!
But she was a girl; kites in our village are only for boys, just like orphanhood and poverty. Obstacles stand between her and flying, to grasp with her small hand the string of a kite in the colors of the flag: red, white, and black.
That night she dreamed; her kite soared before her sleepy eyes. The dream grew, becoming gigantic, the size of her room, her world.
She could see nothing else in the dark; it had taken over her and her tender heart. And when he realized that his little one would not calm down until she achieved what they both longed for, he surrendered to a sweet sleep with her!
The morning awakened her gently, with the warmth of a sun she had never known before; she carried a small cob, telling her mother as she climbed the stairs:
– I will gather whatever eggs I find and change the water for the birds.
She did not wait for her mother’s response; she hurried to the roof, scattering corn kernels on the ground. Although the chickens were still locked up, they made a clucking sound that indicated hunger and thirst. She paid no attention to the birds! She was watching her dream in the sky, searching for her plane, while the time was still early, and sleep reigned over the neighborhood children.
She picked up one of the corn cobs scattered on the ground; she tied a strong rope around it, spun around holding the end of the rope, every time she tried to throw the paddle far away, whenever she made progress, she felt her goal was getting closer, that she would not sleep that night until her beautiful plane was in her arms.
She began to devise the plan, setting her traps; she prepared for the precious hunt, with only the first plane rising in the horizon left to wait for. Her heart quickly leaped with joy, as the first plane appeared before her eyes calling to her. Its bright colors and stability in the sky dazzled her mind. She curled up around herself, hiding her head between her arms like a hedgehog, watching her prey with piercing eyes, her poised arm like a snake, waiting for the right moment to seize its prey.
The plane’s thread in the sky resembled a large arc, drawing closer to her, becoming nearer than she had anticipated; she fluffed up, launched her projectile, in the blink of an eye, she wrapped the paddle around the thread several times, managed to catch it, and began to pull it towards her with strength. The faster she pulled it, the closer the plane came, until it crashed onto the wooden roof of the chicken coop. She tried to remove it, it broke free, falling near her, the shock stunned her; its paper had torn, its bright colors lost, it became a skeleton of bamboo, she cried as she had never cried before, while the hens in their confinement ran in fright, the continuous crowing of the roosters tearing the silence!
She lay on the ground for a long time, sad, frightened, exhausted; she had been battling the winds, the taut rope, the airplane that was difficult to control, its owner who was trying like a madman to scale every height that might allow him to spot the wretch who had shot down his plane, yet he could not see him, did not know where he was, and could do nothing but curse him, vowing to hang him like a rat by its tail!
She crawled on her stomach until she grasped the airplane; she wiped her tears and examined it as if it were a precious treasure in her hands! A torrent of questions was tearing down the walls that isolated her from the world. How would she fix her airplane? What would she tell her mother? Did the boy find his way to her house? How would she escape from him?
“No one will take away the dream I have wished to fulfill for years.”
She tried to mend what had been torn from her, gathered her tattered papers, glued them until they were close to their original form, then sneaked into the house, hiding them from her mother to avoid her questions. Each time someone knocked on the door, she was seized by intense panic!
She did not sleep; she spent the night pondering how her airplane would soar in the sky, as she had dreamed for years of “dancing with a large cloud above it.”
With the dawn of a new day, she walked with her dream on tiptoes, climbed to the roof, placed the airplane on the ground, and imagined it flying. She felt content, elated in her innocence, while her imagination stubbornly refused to become reality!
She was enchanted by the sweetness of the experience; she entered a world without deprivation, where she was a queen. She jumped, rising higher, as if she were on the moon, and her airplane ascended with her. She gradually loosened the string, allowing it to travel far, penetrating the sky; now happiness was complete, and she held its silky threads.
She could hardly believe her eyes; it was far greater than her mind could comprehend, her heartbeat quickened, and her emotions swayed between joy and fear as the airplane soared higher.
She tightens the thread with her fist, shrinking and sticking to the ground for fear that someone might see her, then happiness overwhelms her, and she lets go of the thread, sending more to the plane. Her hands tremble when the plane appears smaller; she grips the thread tighter. The plane flirts with her with its graceful dances, as if trying to tease her eyes and send joy her way. There is a love and passion that has grown between them, a passion she cannot express, and a silent joy releases all its trills within her small chest, making her feel a shiver of happiness shake her entire being and steal her mind away. The plane does not relent and teases her with its dances to the right and left!
The plane moves away and shrinks; she tightens her grip on the thread, staring at the plane as she sees it fade away. She looks at the thread in her hands, squeezing it with both hands, while the plane sways from afar. She realized that the thread had snapped; her plane was free, unbound, delving into the distance, falling!
She tried to catch the thread, jumping on her hands and feet; she could not find the end of the thread. Muffled screams tore her aching heart apart. She jumped powerfully without aim, catching a glimpse of the thread’s end near the edge of the roof.
She summoned all the determination she had left, which was nearly fading, and her waning strength, hoping to save her dream from loss; and she leaped like a small bird trying to escape death, but she had not mastered flying yet. The delicate body falls, crashing onto the ground of the skylight, while the small hand still clutches the dream!
© Ali Hassan
Ali Hassan is an Egyptian novelist and short storyteller. He is also a member of the Egyptian Writers Union.
Salwa Gouda is an Egyptian literary translator, critic, and academic at the English Language and Literature Department at Ain-Shams University. She holds a PhD in English literature and criticism. She received her education at Ain-Shams University and California State University in San Bernardino. Furthermore, she has published several academic books, including Lectures in English Poetry and introduction to Modern Literary Criticism, and others. She has also contributed to the translation of “The Arab Encyclopedia for Pioneers,” which includes poets, philosophers, historians, and men of letters, under the supervision of UNESCO. Also, her translated poetry anthology, entitled Dogs Pass Through My Fingers, was published recently through Alien Buddha Press in Arizona, USA. Additionally, her literary translations have been published in various international magazines.