Noor by Essam M. Al-Jassim

Art: Alone at the Lake from Here & Gone by kerry rawlinson

NOOR

By Yassmeen Al-Khouli

Translated from the Arabic by Essam M. Al-Jassim

His eyes could not believe what they saw when he quietly entered her room. His once resplendent‎ angel was now curled up like a desiccated corpse on the hospital bed. A vibrant motley scarf covers her once lush head, home to that silky black hair that had brought such admiration from those around her.  Her femininity had all but disappeared, taking all the delicate features of her lovely face, everything but her smile: the sole aim of the disease and the one thing it had never been able to ravage

Memories flashed before his eyes of the first day destiny put her before him. He had been sitting against the rail of the university bridge, nursing a broken heart after, in a sudden act of dual betrayal; his then beloved had abandoned him to marry his closest friend.

After many hours of wandering aimlessly through the streets in shock, his aching heart overwhelmed him. He sat down on the bridge and sobbed, completely unconscious of himself. His face down, back bowed as tears streamed from his eyes. The blurred vision changed the perspective of his surroundings.

“Are you alright?” a gentle whisper came from above.

He looked up through burning eyes and discerned white sporting shoes, long legs in pale blue jeans, silky, long black hair cascading over shoulders, and a pleasant brown face exuding warmth.

‎ He did not reply but merely averted his gaze, half-hoping she would leave him alone. His tears must have urged her otherwise, for she gingerly crouched beside him, placing her fabric bag on her legs, and waited patiently for him to collect himself. Her forward gesture froze the tears where they fell. She sat in silence. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands in order to see her clearly. She blinked her tan eyelids and regarded him calmly, without judgment.

“Tears are valuable. You should hide and protect them or someone may steal them. Then you would never be able to get them back.” She spoke with the tenderness one speaks to a little child. Her gentleness bewildered him. In an instant, he forgot his grief.

From that moment, Noor conquered his pain and became enshrined in his heart. She was the river that submerged his suffering soul. She cared for him and pampered him. She called regularly just to make sure he was in good health. She visited him often. When he took ill, he would intentionally claim he was worse than he was in order to make her stay longer beside him, to wallow in her affection. He would feign indignation at her fervent incisive critiques, and she would tell jokes until he cracked the room with his deep bass guffaws.

Years passed in friendship. He could not recall an important event in his life when she was not present. She was the firm wall against which he leaned through hard times; she was the firmament that buttressed his weakness. They swapped books with coded messages written in the preface pages. The messages could not be deciphered until one finished reading the whole book. She accompanied him on shopping excursions ‎and assisted him in choosing the right outfits for a job interview, or a romantic rendezvous. She sometimes even sat disguised as a restaurant patron just to give her opinions of the social level and beauty measures of the girls he dated. As it turned out, none met her standards. If he felt he was running out of time at work, she helped him write his reports and translated documents he needed. She also gave constructive advice for his presentations to make them more effective. When finding out about job opportunities overseas, she would send his curriculum vitae to companies, adding her personal mobile phone number so she could act as a gatekeeper or a reference.

When he got his position in Dubai, UAE, he asked her to be faithful to their friendship and not go away. She promised. He will never forget the tears in her admiring eyes or the crimson of her nose before he kissed it and left.

‎They kept in touch. He told her the minute details of his daily routine as if she were living with him. First, they talked face to face through video conference apps. After some time, she inexplicably‎ confined their communication to phone calls. With more time, tapping on keyboards became his sole means of contact.

Overwhelmed by work, he remained reticent over their increasingly impersonal means of communication. However, as usual, he capitulated to her wishes. He needed her in any way he could have her. She was the kindle that lit his flagging flame.

He kept sending messages inquiring about how she leads her life away from him, but he noticed that his messages went unanswered. He immersed himself in work for the next week, putting in long hours, so much that he ‎did not perceive the elapsing time around him. On that day, when he abruptly remembered her, ‎‎the recollection came as a wave of panic, like a mother losing her child in a crowded area. He rang her. A hoarse voice answered the phone.

“Noor is in the hospital, my dear boy,” her elderly mother replied to his inquiry.

He could tell she had been crying, but he did not ask for details. He simply caught the first flight home and rushed to the hospital.

Now in her room, he approached her with cumbersome steps. As soon as she caught sight of him, a broad smile graced her lips. She opened her arms wide, inviting him to hug her. He held her in a long embrace in order to hide the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes; that familiar bitter taste he thought he had forgotten.

“Why did you come? Why did you leave your work?” she asked tenderly.

He kept staring at her, astounded at the sight of her, “Don’t leave me,” he said.

She laughed and made fun of his serious face. She also commented playfully about his unexpected behavior. For the first time, he did not laugh back.

“Why don’t you laugh?” she asked.

“Noor, please, stay with me. Don’t leave me.”

“If it were in my hands, I would never leave you, my dear.”

“Noor, I … I!”

Her face glowed, overwhelmed by a tearful smile. She pressed her forefinger to his lips to halt the flow of speech.

“That is pity, my dear friend,” she warned

“No. I do love you greatly. I did not recognize it for years… How stupid of me! I’ve been searching for you, I just never thought for a moment you would be with me.”

She held back her tears, and gently put her hands on his heart.

“Don’t fill yourself with ridiculous illusions, dearest. Your heart won’t tolerate such agony. You’ll be alright, don’t be scared.”

It was just like Noor to make light of things, but her eyes told the truth ‎. Warily he stretched out beside her. He slipped his arms under her shoulders and he held her close to his chest. Perhaps fate had sent him to her just for this moment—to allow her to doze to the sound of his aggrieved heartbeats‎.

They stayed in that position until dawn, the rising sun flooding the room with new light. That day arrived just as his Noor disappeared forever.

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‎*Noor in Arabic means light.‎

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