Diary

The second series… My childhood in Aden… Did Satan wrong us?!.. Ahmed Seif Hashed

My memoirs.. from the details of my life.. Ahmed Seif Hashed

second series

Ahmed Seif Hashed

My childhood in Aden… Did Satan wrong us?!

Part of my early childhood in Aden, I remembered some of them easily and easily, and some with great difficulty, and others that I drew from my mother’s novels in different stages of her life about that early stage of my life and my childhood, without this devoid of investigation and matching, burning conscience and refreshing memory; To draw what I could of the features of that stage..

 

After years of my father’s work in the clothing company, he brought us from the village to be with him and next to him.. That work provided him with a limited and stable income, to reunite us, and to provide a modest living stability for us, and some of this situation came at the expense of His health was in the first place, and this was altruism from him that we did not know until after repeated coughing fits that swept over him or overwhelmed him from time to time.. His cough was at its peak, his face swollen and reddened, and his veins and veins swelled up to the point that they seemed to almost explode from his face and neck, and he was about to Falls from his length to the ground, or fall out of his seat.

 

We lived in the area of ​​(Dar Saad) and it was one of the suburbs of Aden at the time, and I was two years and a few months old at the time, and with me my mother and two twin sisters, Nour and Samia, who were less than a year old.. We lived in a small house that my father rented, consisting of a room, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a hall.

(1)

The fight against measles

My father wanted to unite us under one roof in Aden.. He wanted to gather the scattered pieces of our small and distant family, with a small dwelling on the outskirts of the city known as “Dar Saad,” surrounded by a measure of peace and comfort that we are looking for.. But the measles entered us with its bloody Its ugliness, and the ugliness and predation it bears, or so it became in the imagination.

 

I got sick with measles.. measles was spreading and killing children.. measles was an acute and contagious virus that infects children, sometimes causing serious complications.

 

Measles was the most prevalent disease in childhood in particular, and its symptoms include a rise in temperature accompanied by a runny nose, cough, conjunctivitis, and rashes all over the body.. Despite the discovery of the measles vaccine in the 1960s, it did not undermine this disease and make it rare except In the early nineties of the last century, according to some sources.

 

The first battle I might have fought as a child in Aden with this deadly virus for children.. It was a harbinger of death threatening my life, and waiting for me with determination and lust.. Every day that passed while I was still alive, it meant for my father and mother a miracle of stubborn steadfastness in the face of death, and perhaps it was The passing of the day, for me, means a heroism over a disease that expands and spreads.. that kills childhood without taking heed or care..A virus of death from which surviving seems to be a miracle, as it does not return from a poor house unless it has looted from its children the soul of the one who craves it..

 

I overcame measles, and strengthened my resistance and steadfastness, thanks to some advice given by our neighbor to my mother, who was still little experienced, or lacking in experience and knowledge in such matters.

 

My mother benefited from the advice of her neighbor, who had some knowledge of how to deal with such a situation, and knowledge of the means that could alleviate the brutality and effects of this disease. Take care… The causes of life combined and supported some of them, so I defeated the virus of death, recovered from it, and gained lifelong immunity from it.

***

(2)

sickness and emaciation

After months, I fell ill with a disease that I do not know.. I was emaciated and lost my appetite.. my body was so weak that it made me resemble the children of the famine of Africa whom we see in pictures and on TV screens.. Our childhood was miserable, we live in a struggle with death to survive.. Either disease  It beats you.. death hovers over you and lurks around you every day and when..

 

Our neighbor “Abdul Karim Fadel” was a friend of my father, when he saw me, he said to my father in astonishment and without introduction: “Your son will die and will not live.”  A short sentence might have come down on my father’s head like hitting a hammer.. It aroused his fears and galvanized his interest.. Perhaps this shocking sentence was a reason for me to overcome death and live.. This sentence filled with fears seemed to thunderbolt my father, and made him rush immediately and immediately to a hospital in Aden,  However, the doctor told him that my condition was difficult, and the hope that I could live was weak.

 

Our neighbor indicated to my father that he should take me to a skilled doctor in Lahj, perhaps there he will find a glimmer of hope.. My father is looking for a glimmer of hope, and he feels more panic..  His heart beats like a drum, his chest rose and fell, his breath swayed me, and the rumble of his panic shook his conscience and his being.

 

This is what I felt one day too, when I was racing to death, trying to save my son “Fadi” from an asthma attack, when he was about my age or a little older.. My father was trying to save me, accompanied by panic.. The feeling that you are racing against death and preventing him from snatching it  Your child is in your hands, a feeling of intense presence, and it cannot be forgotten no matter how old the years and how long you live.. I lived such a dense moment as a child as I lived it as a father..

 

In Lahj, the doctor said to my father, that my condition is very bad, and that I can no longer tolerate needles, and I will not be able to bear the disease any more, but “perhaps and perhaps” and decided for me a prescription for a treatment without needles..

 

My body responded to the treatment, and my condition slowly improved .. I began to eat more and more greedily every day, and for me, my father used to bring us a pound of meat a day, which I eat all on my own, and I do not let the rest of them eat anything of it.. This is what my mother used to tell me..  If they gave me a piece of it, I would not soon go back and ask for another, until I finished the last piece my father bought.. I can imagine the happiness of my father and my mother..  It covers him, and the secrets of his face bloom like lilies on the balconies of a groom’s house.. What a captivating and captivating feeling!..

 

I survived and recovered, and even became naughty and naughty.. I was destroying walls and scribbling them.. I break the water bell.. I throw eating boards at anything.. I break glass.. I throw food utensils.. I do all the foolishness and I throw everything I reach at what I lay my eyes on.  ..while my mother would cry because of my actions sometimes, and get angry at other times, and punish me harshly most of the time, my loud crying and noise filled the house every hour, until the neighbors and the landlord complained to my father because of my inconvenience and crying.. I was annoying to my family, the neighbors and the landlord.. I could not stop  About naughty, crying, noise and screaming.

 ***

(3)

Misery and misery!

My father used to spend about ten hours working hard and hard, in order to keep us alive, and to pay our modest livelihood, as well as the livelihood of his other family that he supported in the village, which is impatiently waiting for what comes from my father, who is burdened with the responsibility of subsisting us all..

 

Life was difficult, and our whole struggle for survival, for covering and continuing with life is the most we dream and want.

 

My mother used to ask my father to close the door for us from the outside, for fear of being affected by a statement or rumor, for she is the daughter of a “sheikh” as she used to describe and cherish herself, and my father would not refuse her request, so he closed the door on us from the outside until he returned from work at the end of the day.

 

My mother was very shy, conservative, and apprehensive to the point of locking herself between walls.. She did not open a window or a door.. My father was the only one who opened the door and he was the one who closed it, while my mother occupied her time with cleaning, washing clothes, cooking and doing all the housework..

 

But why am I also imprisoned and not allowed to go out to the street to play with children or to look at them from a window?!!  I want to see what happens outside the walls of the house!!  I want to see faces, people, movement, and with it the hustle and bustle of life.

 

All hours of the day and night – except for sleep – my eyes hit the walls and the roof of the house.. There is no crack in the window and no keyhole in the door..

 

I hear some of what is happening outside the house, but I do not see it.. My curiosity is suppressed by cement walls and teak wood, and there is no room and no hope to see what is happening in the street of noise, fights and giggles..

 

I want to know the world outside the walls of our house.. I want to see the neighbors’ children and the crazy (Shams) on her bed in the street, surrounded by sacks and earrings, and the empty boxes that I once saw when I went out with my sick father for treatment..

 

I want to see all the details outside the walls of the modest house we rent.. I have no way of seeing the world outside the walls of our house.. Everything is narrow in the house, like my narrow chest, and my small skull.. I feel like I spend my days in a small bottle sealed with iron, trapping me and surrounding me  , and stifles my breath.. It was natural for me to be naughty, and for this deprivation and suffering to find its reflection in my naughty and rebellious behavior between the walls and the roof of the house, and its siege.

 ***

(4)

Death invades us..questions and obsessions

Why do I die, my God?! I know you are wise, but the question also seeks wisdom and clarification?! We are craving for knowledge, and perhaps we have been set on this, and perhaps knowledge is an existential challenge for man.. We are trying to understand what cannot be understood, to unveil it, to reveal its mysteries and ignorance, and to know what we do not know, even if it is beyond understanding and knowledge from the beginning, or needs Answering the questions to their due time range, but the honor of trying is an existential practice that makes us deserve this existence in which we live.

 

Knowledge may not come by giving in, or by ignoring what should not be ignored, but it comes from the use of reason and experience, raising questions, discussing hypotheses and theories, or replacing or correcting them..

Emptiness does not provide knowledge, knowledge or understanding of anything.. Qtheir work, be implemented.

inward and delving into the depths, and the search for the answer is underway, and every effort and effort is made; To discover what is unknown and mysterious, and to remove all ambiguity or ambiguity..

The authority of knowledge is what we need to penetrate to the diameters of the lofty heavens, and great things, as they said, “start with a small question.”..

It was said in the hadith, “The cure for consciousness is a question.”

Questions are the gates to knowledge, and they are the way to what we seek for certainty, or they are a means that guides us in order to reach it..

We are here asking or asking in order to dispel confusion, to reveal something of knowledge, or a corner of knowledge, or a guide we are looking for, or a means in Serving people and their future.

 

What was in the paths of yesterday was difficult to understand and science, or impossible for it, today has become known or an understandable reality and present in front of the eyes, and the impossible becomes possible, and what was difficult to understand and science today, may become a cognitive axiom tomorrow, and what we do not long answer today, we will extend it tomorrow Tomorrow does not run out and does not end in the path of eternal or long time..

 

The future, which we seek and work for, will unravel many of the secrets of the universe and its ambiguities.. The universe is hoarded with endless secrets, and surpasses every imagination and imagination.. And knowledge has no limits.. As long as a human being remains in his existence, he will remain confused and questioning, and questioning until he reaches and is reassured about what It can be reached, or he continues to modify what he thought was certain, until he reaches it, or the minimum of it, and the accumulation of knowledge continues to discover more, and man continues to harvest knowledge, and in a range that may not end except with his annihilation..

Some ask: If death is a necessity and life is a necessity, then you, O God, have power over all things.. What would have happened if necessities were absent, and God did not create creatures, and the universes and worlds did not witness life or death?! Then he answers: Perhaps if this happened, the severe sadness that fills this existence on the vastness of what we imagine would not have disappeared.. That is how sometimes the question wanders and revolts against us in its prison, especially when the cost of the question or answer to it becomes the life of its owner..

The best was my nothingness, but when I was found, I hate death, O God, and I hate when those we cherish and love are snatched from us.. Staying is a strong instinct in us, or it came with us when we came, we have nothing to do with it, and there is no power or strength.. I hate death when a lover is snatched from us. Or dear, or intimate…

Death when we become attached to those we love is very terrible.. Death is a lonely stillness.. Perhaps nothingness and an emptiness that lasts.. Perhaps death is a separation for eternity, and an endless departure.. Perhaps it is ruin and sadness very heavy for human beings.. This is what I feel when every dear departs, While death for the dead may be something different and different..

Death is a condition that may be delayed, but its arrival is inevitable.. Great postulates may be under suspicion and doubt. As for death, it is a fact and certainty.. It is a law, as it was said, that accepts no doubt or negotiation.. But not everyone, many or some know with certainty what is happening to us. After death and a long absence.. no one came back from death to tell us with certainty what comes next..!

 ***

(5)

The death of the two sisters!! ..

Our small family in Aden – as I mentioned above – consisted of my father, mother, me and two twin sisters (Noor and Samia).. A small and simple family in which death awaited for a long time until the two roses bloomed.. Death came in a strange and mysterious way, the cause and explanation of which I still do not know until today.. Something was taken from our two sisters’ little family, and I would have been the third, had it not been for Al-Latif.

 

My sister (Noor) died, and she was not more than a year old.. She suddenly cried with a loud and strong scream, and as soon as she was carried, she fell silent, and when she was placed on the ground she would return with the same scream, until she almost stopped herself, so my father or mother rushed to carry her, so she stopped About screaming, and this situation continues for a long time until she falls asleep carried.. Suddenly she screamed and did not regain her breath, and she died instantly..

 

Her twin sister (Samiya) when she was more than a year old, the same condition and symptoms recur with her.. She suddenly screams for no known reason, then my father or mother rushes to carry her, but she is silent, and when she is lowered to the bottom or bed, she screams again and in an explosive voice, and she is He carried her quickly, and ended up falling asleep carried.

 

One day she screamed, so my father rushed to carry her, but her breath stopped, and she did not return, and we do not know the reason for her death to this day.. Some nonsense claimed that she died; Because the house in which we are is haunted by jinn, and others said, “Joy” died.. What joy, then, and the cry of her death slashes the wall.

 

I loved my sister Samia, she was beautiful and brilliant.. Her life was quick and quick.. A short life, like a lover’s moment.. Like a calf’s dream.. As for my sister Nour, her life was shorter and faster, and her details are unforgettable.

 ***

(6)

A lonely loss and an endlessabsence

I still remember Samia while she was lying on the bed.. I was overwhelmed with the desire to know what happened!! Mystery was as dense as a galaxy full of incomprehensible mysteries.

 

I was looking at her amazed as if I was watching her and discovering her for the first time.. Despite death, her face was pulsating with light, and her eyes were shining despite the silence. She was wearing a dress the color of deer blood.. This color is still a fondness for myself, even if it reminds me of a long separation.. I didn’t realize at the time that death had kidnapped her. And she was gone forever.. I didn’t realize that she is no longer between us and that she will not return..

 

I was always looking for her and crying and saying to my mother: Look for her in her sleeping place, I want my sister, I want to play with her.. My mother could not bear my painful words that bled blood and burning.. She was trying to swallow her stomach, and she was trying to control her deep grief, so her tears would expose her, and she would burst into tears I cry with her without knowing why.

 

I hated death since then, but my mother used to console me, relieve my pain and hers, and say: She is in the sky, and she is comfortable there, and happy among the poplar girls, and she eats apples, meat, and all kinds of fruits.. All that I am deprived of in the mortal world is Eat it, and enjoy it in the second life..

 

Perhaps after a while I thought of leaving this mortal world for the abode of the hereafter to enjoy that affluent life, and make up for every deprivation I lived in this world, but it was hard for me to leave my mother alone to mourn for the rest of her life.. I saw that leaving alone without her is selfishness that plagues me, and I saw that staying is an endless torture Except for my departure.. That’s how things became the same, as if I was spinning in an orbit of torment that does not want to end.. But my mother’s love was great.

 

My mother told me that I will meet my two sisters (Noor and Samia) on the Day of Resurrection… and when will the Day of Resurrection come?! I hate death and long separation?! The strange thing is that my mother – after a while – used to say to me: The brothers do not meet in the second house except on the Day of Resurrection, but after the Resurrection, there is no connection or meeting between brothers, sons or daughters.. Perhaps it was my mother or whoever brought her this saying, intended to deepen The bonds of brotherhood and the consolidation of love between brothers in this world, but for me it was a matter of deep sadness over a separation that is still far away, and a long heartbreak for the distant eternal separation that comes after the Day of Resurrection..

 

Because of my excessive attachment to my sister Samia, she was born later, so they called her Samiya, to compensate and alleviate the lonely void left by this death that misses our loved ones.. this cruel death and devoid of mercy and feelings.. The beautiful.

 ***

(7)

I almost died!

Noor and Samia died and I was almost the third of them.. I went through the same condition and symptoms.. I was suddenly screaming like a thunder rumble, while my father or mother rushes to carry me from the ground or the bottom of the place, and as soon as I return to the ground again until the screaming returns.. I sleep, and sometimes I wake up screaming, and the scene is repeated, and my father and mother’s fears and apprehension increase that I am separated from life.

 

Why am I screaming?! I still remember and do not know if they are symptoms and preparations or what?! .. I am talking here about “scenes” that may be unreal or unrealistic .. I cannot forget what I was “watching” .. the “scene” is still stuck in the memory, digging in it , and its interpretation and meaning is still vague and difficult to my understanding to this day, and perhaps science has said it in such a case for a long time, without my knowledge of it.

 

I was “watching” a white snake emerging from the bottom.. Its length is about a meter.. It has legs.. Its legs are spread on its edges, and its head is square in proportion to its body, except that it is distinguished by its round eyes, and the width of its head is slightly larger than the width of its body, and it has two hairs in the front of its head as if it were for sensing..

 

I watch it suddenly! Coming out of the bottom being; I screamed in great terror, as the sisters (Noor and Samia) were screaming, a fiery and explosive scream ripping the wall.. Like a rumble of thunder that comes suddenly in a shocking way in a moment of wandering and wandering.. A scream that does not have an appointment that cuts through the night or the day.. It indicates “watching” a shocking matter. , terrifying and horrible… something that makes me dread and dread split in two.

 

And when my father or mother was carrying me this snake disappeared at the bottom, I don’t know how it disappears, but it disappears, and when they throw me on the ground, I “see” it again coming out from the concrete bottom, and crawling quickly to the bottom of the room, and this scene is repeated, and with it the screaming is repeated.. They carry me or take turns carrying me until I sleep.. My father and mother do not see him, I was the only one who “see” him, and therefore they were unable to discover the reason for the screaming and what “I watch” if what I “watch” revealed a face, despite what seems to me today impossible. Realism..

 

On one occasion, the scene of screaming was repeated, and when my father spotted pen scribbles on my hand, he erased them, so my screaming ended and I no longer saw him.. He understood the matter according to the prevailing awareness and culture, and it seemed to him that I wrote on my hand the name “Devil” .. But this interpretation It is not convincing, and it is not correct, because many cases have been repeated with me and with Samia and Nour, without there being writing or scribbles.. So did Satan wrong us?!

 ***

 

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