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music |
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Jimmy Cliff- I can see clearly now |
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 This is how exactly it will look as the years go by. Softened at the edges, the colours vivid today and a blur tomorrow. All I'll remember is the summer sun beating the pavement, wearing it down to a wan silvern look. The Moroccan Barista with skin the colour of philo pastry. I know I felt like a child looking at the sweetmeats laid out in the glass case as I excitedly pointed out, 'I want this and this and that.' I'll never know the look I wore, I'll never know if my eyes twinkled as I danced around the cafe- feeling the red beads of the necklace in my fingers, smiling at the wafts of familiarity. However, I'll remember the bemused look the Morrocan wore, 'Are you sure?' while I counted the sweets on my fingers and said them out aloud, ' Khamsa. Halawat al jeben, baklava, ma'amoul, muhalabia wa..wa..smeed fee haleeb, smeed bil haleeb...uh...smeed haleeb?' 'Yeah, smeed bil haleeb! And Hot Chocolate, you said? Sitah.' 'Na'am. Sitah.' [1]
*
It was blue- not the blue of clouded minds, not the blue of bitten bitters. It was the blue of clear skies, of powdery gossamer dreams, of handcrafted realities. It was the day I found myself humming 'I can see clearly now, the rain is gone' from ages ago- how many years ago was it that i had last listened to it? 'Sun-shiny day' a snap of the fingers, the yellow polka dotted ballet flats glistening, a quick two-step dance on the pavement, a smiling face turned to the skies.
He stood there drenched in blue light -- at least, that's how he appeared. It was the kind of blue that artists use to depict dream scenes. She saw him with shock and perfect recognition, a vivid jigsaw piece mistakenly mixed into a gloomy puzzle.
Blue. Blue. Blue. I could taste it, I could feel it, I could see it, I could smell it. If only I could touch it. The icy coolness, at times going frigid on me.
The days evaporate. There is no discussion of who is going where- from where, to where. Going away from whom, going to what. They lay on the bed, their breath touching. It seemed like a waste of time to close their eyes, so they stayed awake until the light crept over the sea, telling stories. When she did fall asleep, she dreamed in blue.
Everything is heightened. The colors in the air, the music, the smells, the words, the feelings. It feels like time is burdened with an exquisite tension. And this one time, it will not run out.
She committed his smell and face and voice and touch to memory and turned to the vastness of the skies that lay ahead of her. When she turned back, she saw a blue light shining through.
'Look all around, there’s nothing but blue skies
Look straight ahead, there's nothing but blue skies'
Fade into Blue. Fade away. Into Blue.
[1] Khamsa = Five, wa = and, fee = in, bil = with, Na'am = Yes, Sitah = Six.
*Where would be without our music!
Oh! the sweet strains of Satriani, how hooked we are to Blues Traveler
For The Salty-Watery-Bluesy boy. Thanks for Alabama's Dixieland Delight
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