20 MINUTES It's 11:29 P.M. And I'm still running. Right now I'm on 32nd Street. I need to get to 30th Street Station. Do you think i'll make it? I keep running. And a taxi passes near me and Ohh please! Why do they keep splashing me with the water that is left on the road from the rain? Why me? Does it happen to everyone I wonder? I dont get mad. I just smile. And run. It's 11:30 now. 2 minutes before the R8 comes. It's the train I take twice everyday. On the way to school early in the morning and on the way back to home, usually at 11:32 (the last train!). My stop is called Chelton Avenue. Dont even remeber if they spell it Chelten or Chelton (like I care). The trip takes exactly 20 minutes. It's 11:31 now. I'm so tired. I need air. Just one more minute, I tell myself. Keep on. If you dont get this train you will have to get a taxi. No please, I want to ride the train tonight. Dont think I even have enough in my pocket to get a taxi right now. -So? -So keep running! Duhh! I hear the lady in the microphone announces that the R8 arrived. I think i'll make it tonight. I run the stairs and there it is. Oh how beautiful! -What's the beauty in a train? -Get out! Leave me alone. I'm the one who declares whats beautiful and whats not. It's my life, right? -Yeah. I'll tell u why its so beautiful! "The R8. This train is the R8. Chestnut Hill West R8. Those going to Trenton wait for the next train. The R8. This is the R8". I smile. I always hear those same words every night coming out from the same mouth. The train man (or whatever he is called) is an African American cool guy. I said cool. He invites you to his train with a wide smile in his face. Does he really smile? Does he really mean it? Why does he smile everyday? Is that part of his job? Is he so happy in life? "Watch your step please!" And i slip. And fall. I didnt see that the floor was wet! Oppps I say. I was waiting to hear someone laugh! But no one laughs. I get up. Smile. And walk to take my usual seat (near the window). 'U fell' I tell myself! So what? Isnt it normal to fall? Isnt it normal to stand up after you fall? Aah, I even believe there was a reason why I fell. "What reason?" I ask myself again! I reply to me saying "Why do you ask so many questions?" I Smile again. I Smile at the passengers I always see at night. Never whispered a word to them. Just smiling. Maybe if I keep on smiling, someone else's day would be better! I sit down on my seat. Its color is yellow and honestly not that comfortable. But it's only 20 minutes! So its alright. - "Are you ok?" - "Yeah, Thanks for your concern" And he smiles. And I smile. Wow! Why did he ask me if I was ok or not? Does he care about me? Is he a nice guy? Duhh. Sure he is. I love this kind of people. The engines starts to mumble. [loool. I crumble] By this time I am back to normal breathing. How long did it take me from the library to the train? 5 minutes. Wow. I should run more often! The train starts to move. I get a glance at this wide Advertisment on the street beside the station. It says, "The people you love the MOST, deserve the BEST". I Dont know what it is advertising. But I love the sentence, and I see it everynight like seeing it for the first time. Its 11:32 now. I smile again. This is America. Back where I come from, time is ignored! Nothing moves on time. Even the clock on the radio channel doesn't tell the real time. No one cares about time there. Here, they do! No wonder I came to get my education here! They even tell me you can correct the time on your watch by the SEPTA Train Schedule. SEPTA stands for Southern Eastern Pennsylvania Transportation Agency. Or maybe Authority. I dont know. What's the difference between an Agency and an Authority? Do I need to know? Naah. "Good night ladies and gentlmen. This is the R8 to chestnut Hill West. Please get your tickets and passes ready for inspection. Thank you!" "No.. Thank you" I say to myself. I reach out to my pocket. I don't carry a wallet! Get my weekly pass and put it in the pass holder in the seat. Pass holder? I dont know how to say it! (lool) You know this place where you slip your pass on the seat infront of you. Got it? I can't hear the sound of the engine anymore! Well, I could but I dont! When you get used to the noise, it stays in the background and you don't notice it anymore! I turn right and look at the window. I see myself. It's dark outside now so the window is like a mirror. Do you ever stare at yourself? I look at my eyes. They are of medium size (I think!). Black in color like the color of the night. -Darkness? -No. Its different. Darkness isnt the same as black. Black is a color. Darkness is a condition ( a state or a phase!). I love black. My coat is black. My trousers are black. My shoes is black. The leather of my watch is black. Oh, my socks are white not black. I hate the darkness! -Well, hate? -No, sorry. I meant to say I dont love the darkness. I don't think I know how to hate. I don't see a reason for hate. The 'environment' behind that glass window is dark. I see lights outside. Lights of cars on the highway. Lights of buildings. Lights from Philadelphia's downtown. Lights in the darkness that glitter like a flower in the desert! -Oh the desert. -Have you ever seen the desert? Did sand ever stick in your hair and nose and ears? Did you ever hug the sand? I remember once I was camping in the desert with some friends (many I mean) and I climbed this sand hill. Then I started running downwards. It was a very steep hill around 100 meters long. I ran for 20 meters. Then I lost it! The other 80 meters I won't say I ran them. I fell to the bottom. It didn't hurt at all. In fact, it was cool. I would have done it again then, only if it wasn't for the sand that bathed all my body! Let me tell you a little bit about my fellow passengers. I know them all. I mean I see them all everynight. Do I know them? I dont think so. Everyone has his own way of experiencing those 20 minutes. Some sleep. Some read the newspaper. [In fact I used to search for 'leftover' newspaper to read till I get to Chelton. I dont do that anymore. I have better things to waste my time with!]. Some stare at the unknown. Some talk. Some talk loudly. Some talk about meaningful stuff. Others talk about basketball. [The other day they were all sad that Michael Jordon left the game. He is one hell of a man! I admire the way he treats people. I admire the way he plays. He's got game!] Some as I said stare at nothing. I do too. What's nothing? If you stare, then obviously there is something you are staring at. You can't just stare at nothing, can you? I stare at my eyes. I read my eyes. I want to go deep into myself. I want to dive within. This is how I dive: I look into that window (which is a mirror by now) and stare at my eyes. Then I focus on that black area in my eye. Then I focus on a lighter point in that black area in my eye in the window. Then I imagine jumping into a lake that is located in that lighter point in that black area in my eye in the window. Then I just create images. Then I dream. Dream of a castle in the clouds. Dream of a flower that talks. Of an angle that cries. Of my mom carrying me in her hands. Of me carrying my mom in my hands. Of hugging her. Of kissing her forehead. Of my girl. Of so many things. Crazy, eh? It's 11:40 now. This is what I call the mid-point of my trip. It's when we pass the river. I smile at my self not knowing the name of the river I see twice every day. Well I see it once everyday. At night I only see space. Space! Space? A long line of space. A dark line of space! No, not dark. How could something so light and blue and full of life in the day be so dead and full of space in the night. Full of space? What does that mean? How could space be full? Ah, nevermind. I'm only an architect. I'm not an architect, sorry. I'm a student enrolled in architecural studies. I study architecture. I study buildings. I study people too. I study comfort and cultures and languages and images and paintings and words and use dictionaries to define such words as 'celebration' and 'buliding' and 'complex' and 'home'. Celebration! I smile. Celebration. Right at this moment Ladies and Gentlemen I'm celebrating my life. Celebration isn't just an occassion, like some of us think. Celebration is feeling. Is sensing. Is knowing. Is smiling too. We had a project last year to design something for a celebration. I was confused. Can I celebrate death please sir? Someone else wanted to celebrate beer and drinking. Another one (I smile again) wanted to celebrate sex. Others who are so narrow-minded wanted to celebrate golf! Why narrow-minded? I dont know. To me they are narrow-minded. I chose. Its my life. Its what I want to make of it that counts. So I talk to my teacher. - I want to celebrate death. - Ok, how? - I'll bulid a cemetry. - Why death? - I dont know. - Celebrate something you know about. - Give me examples? - Celebrate fire, light, childhood, music, work, water, plants, golf! (He is narrow-minded when he said golf.) - I'll celebrate prayer? - Prayer? - Yeah. I'll celebrate praying to God. Harmony. The soul. The spirit. - What would you design for that? - A mosque! - Your gonna build a mosque? - No. A mosque isnt neccessirily a building. - What then? - A mosque is a place where you find peace, faith, love. Its where you become. Its where you know! - So a mosque is a building? - What degree do u have sir? - A master in architecture. - What university did u get your degree from? - University of Pennsylvania. - Do you understand english? Or do u want me to sketch what a mosque means? (He becomes somewhat angry!) - English is my first language Sir. I understand what you meant by a mosque, but I insist that a mosque is a building. - Calm down please. A mosque isnt a buidling. Are you a believer? - Yeah. I believe in Christ and in God and in the Holy Spirit. - Do you pray? - I go to church most Sundays. - I asked 'do u pray?' - Yeah. I told u I go to church most Sundays. (I smile. He doesnt understand. I told u he is narrow-minded. ) - I sometimes go to a mosque and dont pray. Most of the time I only see people praying in the mosque. If I go to a mosque it doesn't neccessirily mean I pray. -Ok I get what you mean. But then a mosque is a building? - No Sir. A mosque is a place where you pray. - You pray in a building, Duhh. - I thought you were a believer. You dont pray in a building Sir. You pray in your heart. - Ok Im sick of this conversation. What are you going to celebrate? - Praying. - Your building would be a mosque. - No. I would celebrate praying in a space. - Do whatever You want to do. 2 months later, I get a C in my Architectural StudioI. I don't regret it. I reach out for my diaries. Do you write ur diaries? I do. I have a little black book with white plane sheets of papers. It measures 5cm by 4 cm in dimensions with around 200 pages. They don't have anything written in them other than what I write. I bought it to sketch on it. To sketch life on it! Let me open it for you and read some of it. I usually read my diaries while im in the train. Well I have things written in both arabic and english. I can't translate what's in arabic because trnaslation kills the meanings. Let me read some of what is written in english. "When you love someone.. u dont put the person u love in that position where they have to fight for u against someone else. U should make them feel they r wanted no matter what and their place is safe... no need to fight or feel a threat." Note please some of what I have in my diaray are expereinces I had with other people. Some are friends and some are normal people. Let me read you this next part: hmmm well I can't say that part cause it's so personal. I have more pages written in Arabic than in English. I love to read, that's why I write. Likewise I love to listen, and that's why I talk. I smile. Back to my train. Back to my beauty. It's so strange how quiet this train is. I don't call people's talking: sound. Queitness is when everything stops in your inside. Quietness is praying; only not in a building. I recall what happened to me today. I was dead. Then I woke up at 7:30 AM. I didn't walk up. I just turned my allarm off and went back to my grave. Then a random waves of waking up and sleep before I walk up. Walk not woke! (I smile). Then went to swim or take a shower or whatever you want to call it. I became clean. Put on my clothes. Its 7:55 AM when I close the door of my apartment (well part mine, part my roommates! Well its not our apartment, we rent it and live in it. I mean we rent it and sleep in it. At least to me I only sleep in it!) and walk to Chelton Train Station waiting for the R8 that comes at 8:05 AM. It comes. I get on it. 20 minutes later I'm in 30th Street Station. 5 minutes later I'm in the Main Building of Drexel University. Its my HVAC class. I stare into the unknown for an hour then class is over. I have another class at 1:30 PM and after that I'm done with classes for the day. Some days I have classes late at night too. I eat, study, do nothing, chat with my friends, do nothing, read, study, eat, email, do nothing, go back to 30 the street station. If you are careful enough, you would have seen I said 'do nothing' a few times. I didn't say that 'nothing' isnt 'something'. I have my own way of giving meanings. Like life for instance. -What is life? -Life is a word. -What is a word? -A word is something that has a meaning. -What is first, a word or a meaning? -Stop it! uffffff. Ok, let's try this again. -What is life? -Life is like a mall. -How so? -A mall has good people and bad people. Good people are those costumers that go into the mall. Well I don't really want to call them good people but i'll assume "good people" means those that don't cause harm to others. -Bad people? -Bad people are the business people in the mall. Those that steal "good people's money". -Steal? -Yeah. Even if they don't actually grap the money from their pockets. -Shopekeepers are your "bad people"? -Yeah, They manipulate the true celebration of a mall and force you one way or another to surrender yourself to them. -Okie, not all people go to the mall? -I know, not all people have lives! - A mall. Doesnt make sense! - Okie look at it this way. Nothing is perfectly homogenous! One sample of people in "life" isnt completely represantative of the whole. One sample of people in "mall" isnt completely representative of the whole. There are different people in the mall, likewise life! - Okie, We don't chose to come to life. We chose to go to a mall! What do u say to that? - Dont be a smart one! We don't chose to come to life. But we come and we chose to live. You don't chose to go to a mall. You go and you chose to "celebrate" the mall. Those who don't go to the "mall" represent those people who don't expereince "life". If you don't go to the "mall" you don't get to see different types of people. You don't get to "KNOW". If you don't go to the "mall" you are left home all alone most of the time. You lose the meaning of "BEING". You are ignored. No one looks at you. No attention, No love. No love, No life. No life, start to dig you grave. Start to dig you grave, Goodbye. - What about those that don't know about the "mall"? - There isn't enough space in the "mall" to fit everybody. It wont be FUN when it's crowded. You won't get anough air. You won't get enough space to see the orchestra playing. Some people are LEFT-OVERS - LEFT-OVERS? - Yeah. They are here for 'no meaning'. Well they are here to tell that they are of 'no menaing'. They mean that they are not meaningful. - Its not fair. Why are they "no meaning'? (I smile! ) - I am not authorised to answer that question. I'm an architect. Sorry I'm a student enrolled in architectural engineering.. Its 11:45 now. I still didn't tell you what life means. Do you imagine yourself being a teacher? I do. I imagine myself teaching grade 6. And I have this very quiet student who sits back there near the wall at the end of the class. He never talks. So I ask him to say something. I even try to get him to laugh and say "let us hear ur lovely voice" He crumbles! The students mumble. (lool) He opens his mouth. And asks, "Sir, what is life?" I start to sweat. I start to suffocate (or sophocate. or whatever!) I grasp for air. How do u grasp for air? Going out to the air is more effecient than air coming to u. So I leave the class. Grasp some air. Go back to the class. Start to soffocate again (or sophocate. or whatever!) I try to remember his question. Did he just ask "what is life?" Im a dork! Im an idiot! Why did I ask him to talk? Why did he have to ask such a question? I smile. Deep inside im crying. Im aching. Its painful. I look at the student who by now smiled back. He managed to talk. He feels good about himself. Oh how much I hate him now? Why did he have to ask? Oh God. I take a chalk. And with my back to them I start to write on the board. Sketch. That's the best way to communicate. Thats what they tought us as architects. So I start to think of what to sketch for the poor soul. Do I draw a dot in the blackboard and tell them thats life? A white dot in black wide wide enfinite enfinite space! Do I draw a circle and tell them thats life? A white circle that starts at its end and end at its start. A circle that if you are in it, u cant leave it. Do I tell them that life is like a close-system? A close-system that means: what goes in is the same as what goes out. A close system that means we don't come here by our will. A system that we cannot control. Do I tell them that life is energy? That we as human-beings are a form of energy. Energy that follows that same laws of physics they teach in 6th grade. Energy that cannot be created or destroyed. Energy that from the start was there and just went into change. Do I tell them that life is change? Would they ask me to define "Change"? Do I tell them that life is like a painting? Created by a merciful God or mischivous evil. A painting that is beautfil when you look at it from afar. If you get closer to the pciture you would see some ugly details. If you move away from the picture you lose it. You become one of those "no meaning people". What do I tell them? How do I explain something that I don't know? How do you explain to anyone the happiness that a child experiences when he sees his picture in the mirror for the first time? How do you explain that experience and celebration are unmeaningful words? I smile. Deep inside im crying. Im aching. Its painful. Please would someone help me? I smile again. I look at the students, and place the chalk back in it's place. I look at that boy who asked me the question. I don't like leaving a question not answered. I close my notebook. I put it in my suitcase. I grap my suitcase and walk to the door. I open the door. I walk out. Close the door behind me. Then I stop. "You got to say something to the poor kid" I tell myself. I open the closed door again. Enter back into the class. I say in a voice full of love and hate at the same time. I say to the students: " I dont know". I say to myself: "I dont need to know". And I walk out of the same door again. Only this time knowing I won't be back to that classroom again! Its 11:50 now. The train made the first stop at Queen Lane Station. "Chelton Avenue. Chelton Avenue is next stop" I look to my fellow passengers again to see what change they have been through. Everyone is just the same. Like yesterday. I only get to know their outwards. The innerwards I don't know about. I am not a God! Everyone of them has a story to tell. A story of love, hate or "no meaning". Or time! - why did u say "or time!"? - Didnt Eniesctien say time was the 4th direction of the universe? - Yeah he did. But are you saying Love, Hate, No meaning and Time are the 4 directions of this universe? - Yeah. Seee you are learning. Everyone learns. Everyone learns baby! - But wait.. - What? - The 4 axes in physics run perpendicular to each others. At 90 degreees I mean. They all come out from one point. They all start from zero. I smile, so I say: - SO? - So your theory is wrong man! Love and hate run parallel to each others. Paralel means they dont come from the same point. They dont start from zero. They never meet at a point. - Do I have to say that you are dumb? - I'm not dumb. You are dumb. Prove me wrong! - First of all: Dont believe everything they teach you in school. Second of all: this is life. Hate and love come out from the same point. From zero. Third: You are one of those "no meaning".. loool He laughs. By the way did I tell you this before I started my story? He, here, represents me. I am both "I" and "He". And, as usual, I think of this wierd thing. Zero? Whats zero? Is zero positive or negative? Like, lets say, those 20 minutes that passed from my life. Would you call them gain or loss? What if they were zero? I often call them 'do nothing" moments. Nothing is zero. Zero is nothing. But it is positive. Zero is not negative. Nothing is something then. To me these 20 minutes resemble praying. They resemble celebration. It's when you really expereince what real life is. Ah, if only life was anything real! I smile. I am lucky. In the past 20 minutes I didnt expereince hunger. I didnt expereince hate. I was not shot by a bullet in the head and there was no rope aroud my neck. I don't suffer from any disease (al7amdullah). I didn't cry in the past 20 minutes [by the way why are tears so bitter. Why is it that the best medicine is always bitter? Does that mean you can treat heat with love, love with hate, vise versa I mean?]. In the past 20 minutes I didn't suffer from cold or heat. I have enough clothes on me. I have enough energy in my body to keep me running and kicking. What more do I want? I have a family and people who love me. Who care about me. Who i love and care about. What more ha? I have blood that runs hot in my veins and a heart that pumps life into me. I have enough air to breath. I have a home and a place to sleep. I am enrolled in school and doing fine with my education. I have people wiating for me to go back to them and help them. I don't beg for food. I don't beg for shelter. I don't beg for drugs or alcohols. I dont need to hear "No" from anyone and I don't want to say "No" to everyone. I don't hate anyone. I don't hate anyone who hates me. I love everybody. I love therefore I have a life! Its 11:52 now. "Chelton Avenue this station. Chelton Avenue. Please pick up all your trash and don't forget your gloves or umbrellas. Good night Sir. Good night mam. Step up. Take care. Have a good one. Thank you. Good night Sir. Take it easy. R8 to chelton Hill west. Good night Sir. See you tomorrow" Ah. I am 5 minutes from home. The train starts to leave. Everybody runs up the steps to get into Chelton Avenue. I wait awhile. The beauty leaves. I already miss being in the train. But i'll see my beauty again tomorrow. I start walking up the steps. And remeber the last scene of the Titanic. She walks. Barefoot. Her wrinkles tell a story. A story of beauty, love and longing. The wind carrasses her clothes. Her legs so weak, yet she is standing up. She gets up on the edge of the ship. Like a young child getting onto the sofa for his first time. Her hair so gray and bold, yet so beautiful and real. Rose, the old woman, opens her hands. And she drops the diamond into the ocean. She says "Aah!" And she smiles. And the heart will go on! by 6ayshanee