Scorpion's Writings

That바카라™s it. I바카라™ll start. No genuine excuse for hesitation. I approached the window of the small metal shack at the private parking lot바카라™s entrance, next to the Al-Manara lion monument in downtown Ramallah. Mustering the best of my manners, I tried to disguise my hesitation, saying to the young man selling tickets, 바카라˜I바카라™d like to sit over there, right between the two yellow lines drawn on the parking lot asphalt, that spot specifically.바카라™ I gestured to the very place. 바카라˜I want to sit there, and I바카라™ll pay you like any other driver, one dollar, meaning I want to park. I바카라™m ready to sit on the ground, or at most I바카라™ll bring a plastic chair along.바카라™ 

The parking attendant didn바카라™t attend to what I had said. Baffled, he soon assumed an aggressive demeanour; maybe as a defence mechanism to behaviour he found insulting. 바카라˜A respectable parking lot is what this is! How do you want to park when you don바카라™t even have a car and you바카라™re not a car?바카라™ 

바카라˜Just think of me as a car,바카라™ I said, trying to lighten the mood to gain some time to win him over.  

바카라˜Not until you바카라™ve convinced me. What if someone thinks you바카라™re a spy, watching people? What would I tell my boss? What do I say to the customer if the parking lot says full and there바카라™s still an empty spot with someone sitting in it like that, out in the open?바카라™ 

(The lot was actually uncovered, visible to the inner lively roads next to Al-Manara Square.) 

바카라˜You wouldn바카라™t comprehend if I told you. What would you think if I told you that I바카라™m trying to be a mirror, for example? What would you make of that?바카라™ 

바카라˜What do I care if you want to be a mirror or a pile of mirrors, if I don바카라™t get why?바카라™ 

The young man바카라™s offhand response caught me off guard and, after a pointless discussion, we agreed that he바카라™d call his supervisor, the man who manages the lot, working nights, guarding it, sleeping in the small metal shack painted bloodred. 

He came, round-shaped head, sturdy frame, his serious features rough바카라”must be forty-something. I saw him and wasn바카라™t encouraged. 

바카라˜What바카라™s the problem?바카라™ he posed the question directly at me. 

바카라˜No problem. I want to rent out a spot like any car owner, but I want to sit there instead, to contemplate, just to have a think, and maybe write something, a novel maybe. I바카라™ll pay you.바카라™ 

The man바카라™s features relaxed, his surliness melting into a gentle grin. 

바카라˜You? A writer? Come, have some tea and let바카라™s talk it over. Come on. Me, I claim without much proof, that I바카라™m a formidable reader! Do you know the meaning of formidable?바카라™ he asked his eyes fixed on mine like two nails in a plank of wood. (Nails and wood? What kind of simile is that?) 바카라˜A formidable reader, even though I바카라™m a mule.바카라™  

He shook with laughter. 바카라˜Come on, let바카라™s have a drink in the shack.바카라™ 

바카라˜A formidable reader . . . and a mule . . . how?바카라™ 

바카라˜Before, I was a determined mule of the revolution, but when that ended, I consciously and voluntarily remained a mule. Simple.바카라™ 

(I shied away from getting into political, philosophical or historical discussions about the revolutions, their geneses or endings. As usual, I wasn바카라™t moved by any idealist assertion. My experience with masks is a long one, and I don바카라™t automatically side with the margin simply because it바카라™s the margin. Marginality for me isn바카라™t in itself valuable, and those who boast of it fail to gain my trust. Rather, my musings have revealed to me that the margin is no less cruel to the margin, no less cruel to the margin of the margin than the centre itself is to the margin.) 

바카라˜No one else dares to call me a mule. You could say such a label is out of protest, or educational, or an outlet. I바카라™ll spell it out: I바카라™m an old fighter, a liberated prisoner, freed in 바카라™95. I chose to live my own way, so I work as a guard, gateman and supervisor of this parking lot here instead of relying on any job benefit, which my past entitles me to. But what바카라™s your story? Why don바카라™t you write at home? Does inspiration only strike you here?바카라™ he asked jokingly. 

(Excerpted from 바카라˜The Dance of the Deep-Blue Scorpion바카라™ by Akram Musallam, translated by Sawad Hussain; with permission from Seagull Books)