yemenat
Yemenat
*Hasan Barın
I feel a little cold outside, but inside, I feel a strange joy at having made it safely through another year.
Sunlight shyly comes through the dark clouds, as if to say, “I’m here,” while the breeze gently touches my skin, announcing the rain, which says, “I’ll be there shortly.”
And the moment the first raindrop lands on the tip of my nose, I feel a pleasant little tickle!
In the blink of an eye, a tiny pool forms on the little bump on the left side of my nose, no bigger than a raindrop. Then another tiny pool forms beside it, making me even happier.
I’m glad I’ve found two companions to end my brief loneliness.
Overcome with excitement, I say aloud, loud enough for the person standing next to me to hear, “Bullseye! Two out of two!”
As for the raindrops that miss my nose, I first see them at eye level, then watch them fall to the ground.
I notice that the puddles on the ground are bigger than those on my nose.
I remember the children who, when I was a teacher, used to hold hands in the schoolyard and jump from one puddle to another in front of me, shouting, “Wheee!” I remember how I used to warn them not to do it.
I say to myself, “Why shouldn’t I do it too, even if I don’t have a friend to hold hands with?”
“Besides, there’s no teacher around to tell me not to do it or try to stop me.”
I look around and choose the biggest puddle.
After one last check to make sure there’s no one around who might say, “He was crazy already, but now he’s even crazier!”, I stretch my arms out to either side, as though someone were holding my hands. Then I run and throw myself into the puddle, stomping hard in the water.
I’m grateful that the two little bumps on my nose helped me do this, and I don’t forget to thank them.
Without checking whether there’s a teacher nearby or anyone who might have something to say, I keep kicking wildly at the tangled nets of life, scoring one goal after another!
Each time, I burst into the same laughter: a child’s laugh coming from the mouth of an ageing man. A somewhat foolish laugh!
After telling myself, “You’re a grown man. That’s enough!”, I look especially at my trousers. They’re completely soaked, and I’ve ruined them!
The wind picks up, trying to make me feel cold because I’m soaked through, but I don’t feel cold at all.
I ask myself, “You found a little puddle and found your true self. What would you have done if it had snowed?”
“I would have made a snowman and given it a carrot for a nose!”
“But you wouldn’t have used that carrot for the snowman’s nose,” I continue talking to myself, indulging my mischievous soul, which is beyond all hope of reform. Then I let out another loud, foolish laugh!
I forget the cold; my last laugh warms my body in a strange way.
I wonder why I feel this way. Of course, it’s because I’m well fed and have a home that protects me from the heat and the cold, and will soon keep me warm!
“That’s enough fun for now,” I say, and head towards my warm home.
And suddenly, suddenly…
The thought of home brings things to mind that change my mood.
Suddenly, I picture a child in Gaza who isn’t even a month old. Just looking at the photograph, you can feel the baby’s weight in his father’s arms, as though he weighed a ton. Then I remember another child, no more than two months old, wrapped in a tiny shroud. I’m sure even that little shroud must have felt heavy on the large washing board on which they had laid him.
I remember the tents flooded by torrents, the winds tossing them in every direction, while even smaller bodies prepare to take their places in tiny shrouds on large washing boards.
I can no longer hear the gentle sound of the rain. Instead, I hear the words of a father inside a tent flooded with mud:
“When we went to sleep last night, things were already like this. If we hadn’t woken up, we might have drowned. It’s like this everywhere. Where are we supposed to take our children?”
Suddenly, I begin to feel cold.
I approach the front door and stop. My cold hands tremble, and I can’t get the key into the lock. Then I collapse where I stand.
I find myself caught in a foolish philosophical question: Is the world in balance when some people rejoice in the very same natural phenomena that bring sorrow to others whom no one cares about?
I harshly reproach myself:
“Just a little while ago, you too were one of those people who didn’t care about others.”
These words hit me hard. I cannot bear them or the intense struggle between two different states of mind battling within my heart, and tears begin to stream from my eyes.
All the raindrops that had fallen on my body, all the water I had splashed through as I jumped, had failed to do what the two tears did as they trickled past the two raindrops still resting on my nose.
I feel cold. I feel cold!
Director of Barın Agency – Turkey *
yemenat
مشاهدة i feel cold
يذكر بـأن الموضوع التابع لـ i feel cold قد تم نشرة ومتواجد على قد تم نشرة اليوم ( ) ومتواجد على موقع يمنات الأخباري ( اليمن ) وقد قام فريق التحرير في برس بي بالتاكد منه وربما تم التعديل علية وربما قد يكون تم نقله بالكامل اوالاقتباس منه ويمكنك قراءة ومتابعة مستجدادت هذا الخبر او الموضوع من مصدره الاساسي.
التفاصيل من المصدر - اضغط هنا :::
وختاما نتمنى ان نكون قد قدمنا لكم من موقع Pressbee تفاصيل ومعلومات، I Feel Cold.
في الموقع ايضا :
- يتفوق نموذج الطقس المدعم بالذكاء الاصطناعي الخاص بـ WindBorne على التوقعات التقليدية، حيث تشتري القوات الجوية الأمريكية بيانات البالونات الخاصة بها
- اليمن .. رئيس مجلس النواب اليمني يوجّه رسالة عاجلة إلى نظيره المصري بشأن أنباء تفويض السيسي للتحرك دفاعاً عن السعودية
- التصعيد الحوثي يضع السعودية أمام خيارات دفاعية جديدة.. هل تتدخل الصين لحماية منظومتها الدفاعية وإمدادات نفطها؟!