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Businessman Artur Shehu breaks his silence: I am a long-time land owner in Zvërnec, I don't know the investors at all

Albanian businessman Artur Shehu spoke on the Opinion show...

Sunday Story/ Japan Time

2024-08-18 10:33:00, Kulturë Agim Xhafka

Early morning

From the house of my parents who left years and years ago, I have many things that I keep as precious memories. Like the eyes of the forehead, it is a little. From time to time I take them out of their sleeping place and smooth them lightly, but lovingly. They look like Aladdin's lamp that I learned when I was a navel. After each friction, your wish was fulfilled. In fact, today I have only one wish. May the memories with my father and mother come fresh to me year after year. May they not fade away, or may any of them be forgotten or dissolved. So it seems to me as if I grew up an orphan, not because I lost my parents and I don't have their evidence, but as an orphan of some distant provincial orphanage. Raised by some quarrelsome and grumpy guardians.

But a comfortable table clock inside a Japanese porcelain "eats" bread only among precious items. That it seems fixed to me like a modern usb of my emotions in the family. That hour brings alive the film of life with mother and father between us. It has been present with its ticking since I was born. And then as if he was happy at every celebration or joy that we had in our poor house, but as warm as the warmth itself means Lasgushi. She didn't stop the rhythm, even from the fact that we were happy in the reasons, it seemed to us that she also introduced another way to her knock. Not the normal one, but that of a sprinter who will definitely be the winner. That's how I felt that hour not only during the day, but also at night. Her love in unison with my heart. When my mind went to, for example, my first love, all I felt was butterflies in my stomach and that was it. The feeling and other imaginary butterflies that the hour brought before my eyes. That at that very moment it seemed to knock on my fantasy and urge me to go to her, to show her love, not to hesitate.

- Tick tock, run the clock! Tick ??tock, watch lover! Tick ??tock, don't be late!

While I was thinking about our family clock, now my beloved clock, I noticed that big scorpion stuck to the number 9 and the small one to the number 3. Both don't move, they stay like that in the boat as if surrendered after years they didn't line up for a second. They are like Ladi's dog that grew old and from that nimble, thrown, fast, beautiful one has remained motionless, just lying down with its eyes towards the Lord, spreading sadness and pain. It has been a few years since Zemberek has been silent. Scorpios also sleep normally. It's back to the clock that doesn't knock, doesn't go tick-tock, tick-tock. He sits like a window mannequin that neither speaks, nor moves, nor breathes. So, after many hesitations, one day I took it to the watchmaker. I hesitated because I did not believe that a part would be found for him, he could not be transplanted because he was too old. Ancient will say. But for me, it gained more value year after year, such as Picasso's paintings, the older they are, the more expensive they are.

- I don't have scorpions for him, not even zemberek, - the ustai told me.

I saw him but his eyes lit up. He liked that already that watch was a rare specimen from its tribe. I was glad he knew the value. And while I was feeling pain that I couldn't heal, he continued:

- I have a new, bright, nickel-plated watch that catches your eye. She "sleeps" exactly on this Japanese porcelain of yours full of flowers. If we remove this old clock that has a cof and does not work anymore and put the new one in that slot, it will last at least the next 20 years. And it won't stop ticking.

I imagined what my watch would look like after the intervention. As a bride. Like a bride with a veil even. It couldn't be more beautiful. It seemed to me that the clock itself was prompting me:

- Replace me with a new one, man! Change me!

But this moment lasted only a few seconds. It was like the song of the sirens who wanted to deceive Ulysses. But I, like him, turned a deaf ear. I escaped the temptation.

- No, no. Don't decide. Leave it as it is, - I hurriedly told the watchmaker and grabbed my beautiful watch.

I wanted to put him in my breast as if someone was stealing from me. If it was big, it didn't darken my shirt. I put it back in the bag I had brought it.

- But why, watch? It will look beautiful, - the woman wondered.

I was a little quiet. Because of the emotional state at that moment, I was a mess. After building the explanation well in my head, I spoke:

- That with the new watch, woman, I will no longer remember the life I have lived. My mother, father, grandmother, sister or brother will no longer appear before my eyes, before my mind, before my heart. Every time I look at the new watch that will lie inside the Japanese porcelain, I will only think of this ustai. It's like having, for example, a river stone that doesn't remind me of anything. The magic will run out of time. The juice of the emotions it carries will flow. It will be fixed like an empty bottle. Bottle without water and without cork...