The Adventures of Life
Chapter One; Allures
He gazed at the softness of its touch. Its essence landed gently on the environment, bouncing off smoothly to the beds of glancing eyes, dancing in slow, calm, with grace. Its light lit the low heavy nimbus clouds that collected in poofy bundles, scattered as they graze the skies, advertising the dull glossy gray whiteness of its glow beaming from their fluffy curvatures, a floating cotton kingdom. Even though the moon wasn’t a full one, he could see how majestic its radiance was, as he leaned to find it from the slide up window. It was a romantic sight, but the guy sitting a seat across from him wouldn’t think so, he thought as he re-composed himself, hoping the dark cabin of the matatu (1) helped.
The soothing rhymes oozed into his ear drums relaxing him a little. He loved how each sound blended in composing waves, carrying nerves to heights with each note, slowly building up to its climax, the power of sound... His playlist always did him justice, and it was not letting now.
His eyes set on her once again. She sat in front of him. He first saw her when he was boarding after the family of the passengers alighted and freed up his favorite seat, right on the back end window of the van. It was then his sight met her. Flawless light colored skin that reflected enough of the cabin’s light to earn a beacon of attention from all the others. Big round eyes, perfectly spaced on her elongated face, plaited long hairs that she curled into a quickly done loop. And even with his sight problems he knew, she was beautiful…the kind you don’t see every day.
He saw the netted shoulder cover she had that translated into a creamy blouse made from curvy spaced pieces of cloth sawn together. It looked good on her, he thought. It’ll be good if it extended into a dress. The driver closed the conductor door of the express van and got back in his seat, turned off the cabin lights and they were off again.
He threw his glance back through the window. The hills, small bumps and protrusions on the flat land, yet so profound as they formed this height dancing view…steadily raising as they descended into their bordered world, seemingly as they cruised alongside them, the van exercising its suspensions as its tires shift positions under the highway road, steadily, passengers flowing with its soft jerks, in thought, in dream, in physic. It made him miss travelling. Hours of looking through windows, drifting away with passing trees and shrubs, thinking, reflecting, listening to Ibn Bukhatir and Alafasy, reading, shear bliss and introvert heaven.
She laid her head on the seat after her, and stared outside. Could she be seeing what he was seeing, how he was seeing it, could she be awed by the spectrums of colors and variety of perfection, of creatures that never ask for anyone’s attention even though they deserve it, just for being themselves, he thought as he watched her from his overlapping field of view. He wondered if she was connecting with it, thus with him…he wondered. He thought of how beautiful they would be standing on a rocky cliff on a beach, watching the sun set, no words, gazing at it, understanding, savoring… He thought of how they would raise a family together, how their friend’s kids would play around with theirs and how families would come together, he thought. He wondered how he’ll have to convince her to join his fold, how he would convince his family that she’s the one, how she would have to convince her family, relatives, how she may be forced to lie and pretend, how she might even have to lie to him just so to protect him from the snarls her disagreeing family might have…he thought.
The persona was climaxing in his eardrums as he took him to his savor. He could see the distant housing lights that flickered over the tiny spaced tree branches like airport beacons, but faster. He was getting close. The moon light glowed again over the passing cloud. He looked at her again, wondering how shaytaan could turn her to a queen in every man’s eyes, in his eyes. Talk about travelling, he thought grinning.
The driver drove past the normal stage. People asked around at first, but quieted down when they realized he was done for the day. He dipped his hand into his back pocket, fetching a note and put it into his front shirt pocket, for the Boda (2) he’d have to take once he alighted. The van stopped and everyone prepared to get off. She felt for her bags, waiting for the ones in front to alight and said,
“Alhamdulillah”
He froze for a second, perplexed and thought, talk about travelling. He wasn’t grinning this time O_o
Key.
1. Passenger Service Vehicle.
2. Motorcycle taxi
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| Photo Courtesy: in.Pinterest com |
He gazed at the softness of its touch. Its essence landed gently on the environment, bouncing off smoothly to the beds of glancing eyes, dancing in slow, calm, with grace. Its light lit the low heavy nimbus clouds that collected in poofy bundles, scattered as they graze the skies, advertising the dull glossy gray whiteness of its glow beaming from their fluffy curvatures, a floating cotton kingdom. Even though the moon wasn’t a full one, he could see how majestic its radiance was, as he leaned to find it from the slide up window. It was a romantic sight, but the guy sitting a seat across from him wouldn’t think so, he thought as he re-composed himself, hoping the dark cabin of the matatu (1) helped.
The soothing rhymes oozed into his ear drums relaxing him a little. He loved how each sound blended in composing waves, carrying nerves to heights with each note, slowly building up to its climax, the power of sound... His playlist always did him justice, and it was not letting now.
His eyes set on her once again. She sat in front of him. He first saw her when he was boarding after the family of the passengers alighted and freed up his favorite seat, right on the back end window of the van. It was then his sight met her. Flawless light colored skin that reflected enough of the cabin’s light to earn a beacon of attention from all the others. Big round eyes, perfectly spaced on her elongated face, plaited long hairs that she curled into a quickly done loop. And even with his sight problems he knew, she was beautiful…the kind you don’t see every day.
He saw the netted shoulder cover she had that translated into a creamy blouse made from curvy spaced pieces of cloth sawn together. It looked good on her, he thought. It’ll be good if it extended into a dress. The driver closed the conductor door of the express van and got back in his seat, turned off the cabin lights and they were off again.
He threw his glance back through the window. The hills, small bumps and protrusions on the flat land, yet so profound as they formed this height dancing view…steadily raising as they descended into their bordered world, seemingly as they cruised alongside them, the van exercising its suspensions as its tires shift positions under the highway road, steadily, passengers flowing with its soft jerks, in thought, in dream, in physic. It made him miss travelling. Hours of looking through windows, drifting away with passing trees and shrubs, thinking, reflecting, listening to Ibn Bukhatir and Alafasy, reading, shear bliss and introvert heaven.
She laid her head on the seat after her, and stared outside. Could she be seeing what he was seeing, how he was seeing it, could she be awed by the spectrums of colors and variety of perfection, of creatures that never ask for anyone’s attention even though they deserve it, just for being themselves, he thought as he watched her from his overlapping field of view. He wondered if she was connecting with it, thus with him…he wondered. He thought of how beautiful they would be standing on a rocky cliff on a beach, watching the sun set, no words, gazing at it, understanding, savoring… He thought of how they would raise a family together, how their friend’s kids would play around with theirs and how families would come together, he thought. He wondered how he’ll have to convince her to join his fold, how he would convince his family that she’s the one, how she would have to convince her family, relatives, how she may be forced to lie and pretend, how she might even have to lie to him just so to protect him from the snarls her disagreeing family might have…he thought.
The persona was climaxing in his eardrums as he took him to his savor. He could see the distant housing lights that flickered over the tiny spaced tree branches like airport beacons, but faster. He was getting close. The moon light glowed again over the passing cloud. He looked at her again, wondering how shaytaan could turn her to a queen in every man’s eyes, in his eyes. Talk about travelling, he thought grinning.
The driver drove past the normal stage. People asked around at first, but quieted down when they realized he was done for the day. He dipped his hand into his back pocket, fetching a note and put it into his front shirt pocket, for the Boda (2) he’d have to take once he alighted. The van stopped and everyone prepared to get off. She felt for her bags, waiting for the ones in front to alight and said,
“Alhamdulillah”
He froze for a second, perplexed and thought, talk about travelling. He wasn’t grinning this time O_o
Key.
1. Passenger Service Vehicle.
2. Motorcycle taxi
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