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TODAY IS MONDAY, WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW?

2023-09-17 11:23:00, Opinione Agim Xhafka
TODAY IS MONDAY, WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW?
Dawn Xhafka

When my sister told me that Ladi, my childhood friend, was not mentally well, to be honest, I was shocked. Since he was full of life, agile, with a sense of humor, I never thought he would fall into this state.
- What's wrong? - I asked him.
- It looks so normal. A little frowning on his face, the former gas is gone, but when you ask him about the days of the week, he stops there. For example, you tell him that today is Monday and then you ask him, what day is tomorrow? He immediately says, tomorrow is also Monday.

I've moved my eggs, I thought to myself. I didn't wait, but I went to Korça. When I arrived I knocked on his door. He came out himself and told me:

- Come on in the beer garden!

I entered and spent two hours. We remembered from our birth until today. I was glad that he was a birinxhi, he didn't deviate at all. My sister made a fuss, I laughed and I did a test with the concern she told me about the days of the week.

- Oh, now we are getting old and I don't know what day it is today, right? - I asked provocatively.
- Yes, Monday, shut your mind, Monday! - he cut me off.
I hit his forehead as if I remembered, but I continued the game:
- What about tomorrow?
- And tomorrow is Monday, byrazer, - Hazerxhevap spoke and I lost my tongue.
- How was Monday? Today is Monday and tomorrow is Monday again?
- Oh, that's right.

I didn't know how to continue the conversation. I had heard that these mental illnesses have symptoms of obsessions. Shyqyr was confused on the days of the week that for the others Ladi was a leaf. Half sad and half happy, I left Ladi and went to my sister.
- I told you it gets mixed up, she insisted.
- Yes, sister, you got the word out.

Then we talked about other things. Ladi was like a hot potato, burning our memories if we took it in our mouths. The next day I would return to Tirana. As soon as I started the jeep, I saw a cafe in front of Ladin. I stayed with him for half an hour and turned off the car. I sat opposite. I don't know how the fatal question suddenly came to me:

- Yesterday was Monday Lad, what about today? - I asked.
- Today is Tuesday, - he said to me, sipping his coffee.
I didn't leave it at that.
- What day is tomorrow?
-Wednesday.

U gëzova, Mendova që nuk e paska sëmundje të përhershme. E paska me hope. Ah,sa mirë. Pra qe një gjë e shërueshme. Ndaj e provova sërish:
-Dje e hënë,po sot?
-E hënë dhe sot!-tha qetë.

U çkomandua,thashë. Kaq e pati. E pashë në sy gati me dhimbje,por sa do hapja gojën foli ai.

-Nuk kam asnjë çoroditje vëlla. E di mirë që java ka shtatë ditë. E di që dje qe e hënë,sot e martë,nesër e mërkurë. Por më është çoroditur jeta,jo java. Asnjë fëmijë nuk kam jo në Korçë,por në atdhe. Marr një pension që vetëm pesë ditë mund të jetoj me të. Po troket fresku e nuk ble dot dru për ngrohje. Ilaçet nuk na bëjnë efekt as mua,as gruas,janë skarco. Televizionet mbushur me vrasje e rrena. Qyteti veç me të moshuar,nuk dëgjon një të qarë fëmije. Nxënës shkollash sheh tek-tuk ndonjë po qëndrove dhjetë minuta në rrugë. Fqinjët si dallëndyshet kanë shtegtuar,punojnë e flenë në Selanik. Ndaj jeta ka marrë ngjyrën gri,ashtu si hiri në mangall kur digjej fare prushi që na ngrohte. Çdo ditë njësoj,çdoj javë njësoj. Me ato halle,me ato probleme e me ato malle.

Më gufosi. Nuk dija ç’të thoja. Por dhe më hapi sytë. Kaq e kaq herë dhe unë e gruaja shpesh pyesim njëri-tjetrin,ç’ditë është sot? Jo se nuk e mbajmë mend,por nga që ato janë kaq identike sa nuk gabojmë po të themi,çdo ditë është e hënë. Edhe e marta,dhe e mërkura,dhe e enjtja të hëna janë

Ika drejt Tiranës. Me dhimbjen për hallet e Ladit,por që s’janë veç të Ladit. Komplet shoqëria jonë jeton pa ëndërra,pa ngjyra,pa projekte,pa të nesërme. Si një gjellë frigoriferi,që e nxjerrim të ngrohet e të ringrohet,por ajo është e njëjta. Në pamje e në shije.
-Më thusj ç’ditë është sot?-pyeta veten.
-Një ditë pa dritë,-më erdhi përgjigja vetiu.

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