Sunday's story/ THE GIRL WITH THE BROWN PIN...

2023-11-05 12:37:00, Kulturë Agim Xhafka

Sunday's story/ THE GIRL WITH THE BROWN PIN...

Dawn Xhafka

Near the mother's grave, I saw that beautiful girl again who was crying and talking a little further. He was kneeling on the lawn, I could tell from the movement of his hands that he was having a dialogue. I could not read the name of the one who had passed away. But it meant a new grave that had not yet been shaped with marble.
Last month, the girl was in the same position as today. With a green coat and a brown pin in his long curly hair. He talked and talked. In a voice not so low, but not so loud that I could understand what he was saying. When she stood up, I noticed that she was tall and elegant. He suddenly turned to me, laughed a little, his eyes filled with tears. I understood the pain, I thought that the one who was lying there would be either my father, or my mother, or someone very close to me. That her gaze dripped with great pain with heavy weight.

I didn't think I would see him today. Coincidence that we found ourselves together. I put a carnation on my mother, caressed her picture, turned my back on the girl. I was silent, but I was on the run. It was as if I was cleaning up the words of my mother's name. That long and determined dialogue of hers made me curious. I waited and ..this is what I heard:

- Oh my stranger, oh my priest, oh the niche of my confession! I am depressed not by life, but by people. When we didn't have a loaf of bread to eat at home, I flew to Greece. I didn't think twice, I didn't wait to find a job, since that night I went to a street corner and took out some money. I was not ashamed, I felt joy. In that money I saw bread, meat, milk, a glass of brandy for dad...

The next day, as well, so much savings were collected in my wallet that I dared to send it to my family. But I didn't have breakfast with sihariq. On the phone, my mother's voice told me, we have made a mess of you, you are no longer our daughter. I couldn't explain myself since the phone hung up. But I went on and after a few months and a day I returned home. Longing made my father open the door for me. But the good behavior remained only inside the house. Outside of it, on street corners, I heard insulting words. Many friends wouldn't open my cell phone, so I ran away to Tirana.

A cousin of mine hired me at a hair salon. I felt so good that I found happiness. When things were going well, an inspector came and told my cousin that he would close our business if I didn't sleep one night with him. I got mad, but my cousin got even more angry. Shut up today, she scolded him. I was in so much pain that without thinking twice I caught the inspector at the corner of the street. I was out of breath from the rush, but I firmly told him that I accepted. I admitted that I owed so much to my cousin that I would give my life.

It's been a month since I met Ladi, the plumber of a construction company. Boy, sir. Beautiful, kind, loving, discreet. I left my mind behind him. But I wanted to be honest. I told him about life on the streets of Greece, and even about the night with the inspector. An inner voice stopped me, but I didn't budge. I told him everything and he, after a lot of cursing and insults, slapped me hard. I was left alone again, I didn't know where to ask for help or where to cry. So I decided to come to you. To confess and tell you my pains. That you don't judge me, you don't punish me, you don't shoot me. You listen to me and listen to me.

I felt that behind me she moved. I turned a little to the side, I saw that he left with his head up and his hair swaying like the manes of a beautiful foal.
I went to the grave, I wanted to see the name, the year of burial. There was nothing. I looked around and didn't come across the wooden board.

At that moment, a worker of this plot passed by.

- Sorry, the head of this grave has been lost. Where can it be?
- There is no head, it is not yet a grave, he said.
-How is it not?
- There is no funeral inside. Maybe after a few months it may be his turn.

It is now unexplored land.

I didn't know what explanation to give. It seemed to me a strange, absurd situation, almost like a dream.

Then, when I remembered the story of this innocent girl, I found her reaction appropriate. Among the people, she found no arms, no eyes, no ears. Recognize the severity of prejudice. Meanwhile, she wanted to empty the pain, the worry, the problem, so as in the legends that say that the problem was expressed in a hole in the forest, the girl with the brooch found the ointment in an unnamed grave. That he would listen to him and not pay him back. That he was unknown, all the better and unworthy...

I was touched a little. I was shocked by the dryness of our feelings. But I was also scared. I was very scared by the humanity that is getting cold and its heart is turning to stone...