{"id":3090,"date":"2024-05-28T06:22:06","date_gmt":"2024-05-28T06:22:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/?p=3090"},"modified":"2024-05-28T06:22:06","modified_gmt":"2024-05-28T06:22:06","slug":"the-pyjamas-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/2024\/05\/28\/the-pyjamas-2\/","title":{"rendered":"The Pyjamas"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

Thursday <\/span>1<\/span>3<\/span> June <\/span>201<\/span>3<\/span>, (<\/span>0<\/span>8 AM)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Today <\/span>is my birthday; I completed eighteen <\/span>difficult <\/span>years on <\/span>this <\/span>earth. But my new year seems to be bleak<\/span>er<\/span> from <\/span>its <\/span>beginning. <\/span>My father is in <\/span>hospital in Cairo in <\/span>a <\/span>critical<\/span>condition;<\/span> he was shot <\/span>and seriously injured. My elder sister <\/span>shocked<\/span> me <\/span>with the<\/span> bad <\/span>news in an email today. <\/span>I am baffled <\/span>about <\/span>what to do. <\/span>It<\/span> is bad news <\/span>for me <\/span>despite the <\/span>thorny <\/span>state<\/span> of our relationship;<\/span> he is still my father and I <\/span>still respect<\/span>him;<\/span> yet<\/span> I disagree with his attitudes<\/span>. He is still the patron<\/span> of our family. He had been taking part<\/span> in <\/span>a demonstration<\/span> when p<\/span>olice forces in <\/span>Egypt <\/span>clashed with<\/span> the ousted president<\/span>\u2019s<\/span>supporters in <\/span>Cairo<\/span>.<\/span> I know I should be rushing to his side, but <\/span>I <\/span>cannot leave my exams<\/span> in London <\/span>and go<\/span> to him<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thursday 13 June 2013, <\/span>(<\/span>04<\/span> PM)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

I need to prepare myself anyway as<\/span> I cannot concentrate on my <\/span>revision<\/span>; my thoughts are <\/span>scattered<\/span> and conflicted<\/span> between Cairo<\/span> and<\/span> London. <\/span>Will I see you again my father?<\/span> Despite my differences with you I admire you for carrying <\/span>on your struggle<\/span>; don\u2019t be defeated<\/span>; I<\/span> know you as a strong man.<\/span> My mother <\/span>and my sister are<\/span> relying<\/span> on your support for <\/span>them<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n

I have not seen my father for more than nine months<\/span> since I left Egypt for my stu<\/span>dies; his image grows<\/span> bleary<\/span> day by day<\/span>;<\/span>I don\u2019t <\/span>even <\/span>see him in my dreams. H<\/span>owever, <\/span>I still remember his tall figure, <\/span>prominent muscles<\/span>, <\/span>and <\/span>his <\/span>serious face with<\/span>his <\/span>thick<\/span>, black<\/span> beard<\/span>. <\/span>\u201cThe b<\/span>eard, my son, is <\/span>a <\/span>very essential part of Muslim image<\/span>. We are asked to follow the Prophet, even in his maintaining of his beard,<\/span>\u201d <\/span>h<\/span>e used to advise me with his rough voice.<\/span> He was, I mean, <\/span>he <\/span>is <\/span>a pious man <\/span>\u201cE<\/span>very<\/span> Muslim, in his house, <\/span>should <\/span>participat<\/span>e<\/span> in <\/span>building<\/span> a<\/span>promising<\/span> society<\/span> for everyone<\/span>.\u201d This was one of <\/span>the<\/span> ten <\/span>handwritten posters<\/span> he <\/span>p<\/span>osted<\/span> up on the<\/span> walls<\/span> of our flat<\/span>. <\/span>In all my memory, h<\/span>e had never missed one prayer in the local mosque <\/span>alongside the community congreg<\/span>ation<\/span>. \u201cPraying in the mosque is a must, my son.\u201d He used to repeat this to me almost every day since I reached my seventh year. <\/span>I<\/span> used <\/span>to accompany him to the mosque<\/span>.<\/span> It was also a compulsorily act to accompany him to the mosque for evening prayers every day and for Friday Prayer every week. <\/span>My problem had <\/span>always <\/span>been with dawn<\/span> prayers<\/span>; <\/span>to break away from my<\/span> small dreams and leave <\/span>the<\/span> warmth <\/span>of my <\/span>bed <\/span>was agony to a young boy. To<\/span> get up, wash and go to the mosque about half an hour before<\/span> everyone else<\/span> seemed <\/span>so unfair to my young self. My father wanted me to<\/span> recite some verses of the Qur\u2019an<\/span> in the mosque even before prayers<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n

I can remember talking with other boys and moaning about how strict my father seemed compared to theirs. Even at quite a young age, I began to realise I needed to be careful what I said or revealed. The difficulty of wanting to please my father, the feeling of conflict \u2013 the lure of football in <\/span>the courtyard with all the neighbourhood kids versus my duties to my dad.<\/span><\/p>\n

R<\/span>each<\/span>ing puberty was <\/span>an<\/span> unfortunate development<\/span> for me<\/span>. <\/span>One<\/span> night<\/span> when I was about eleven,<\/span> I had a heavenly dream; I saw myself flying <\/span>over the big park in our city <\/span>with <\/span>the most beautiful<\/span> girl<\/span> in my class. I remembered <\/span>my first <\/span>na\u00efve kiss<\/span>from her<\/span> and <\/span>started to feel<\/span> a <\/span>stream of <\/span>warmth<\/span>,<\/span> blood running slowly inside me. <\/span>All<\/span> of a sudden, I heard <\/span>my father\u2019s rough voice:<\/span> \u201cD<\/span>awn prayer son.\u201d <\/span>I felt that the park, the trees, the flowers that made of pure clear pink glass were suddenly smashed and <\/span>I <\/span>woke up in a confusion of frightening <\/span>emotions<\/span>;<\/span> I <\/span>had my first wet dream<\/span>. <\/span>I could not lie to him \u201cI need to take a shower, father\u201d I said in a faint voice. \u201cIs this your first wet dream, son? Now you are a young man. Ok, I will go and you can follow me later.\u201d From that night, I was forced to fasten a towel around my waist, keeping the knot at my lower back to avoid sleeping on my back and elude getting warm <\/span>(<\/span>and get<\/span> erection)<\/span>; doing so, as he always used to say, would save me having showers every time. During the day time, he kept knocking at the bathroom door whenever I stay longer than five minutes asking me to free the bath. I overheard one of his companions advised him to check on me \u201cas boys these days get different means to relieve their sexual energy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The list of f<\/span>orbidden things got longer in my teens<\/span>: watching TV was on top, listening to<\/span> music, using <\/span>the <\/span>internet and social media, <\/span>e<\/span>specially Facebook. <\/span>He broke my small music keyboard and prevented me from practicing my favourite hobby. <\/span>I used to escape from time to time to go to any internet caf\u00e9 to read<\/span>, listen<\/span> or watch what was not <\/span>halal<\/span> in our house. <\/span>When I asked mother to tell him to be less harsh with me, she was sympathetic but didn\u2019t have the strength to disappoint him. <\/span>There was only on<\/span>e exit for me, to study hard,<\/span> get a scholarship and <\/span>finish my degree abroad; he did<\/span>n\u2019t mind sending me abroad to get a good degree <\/span>and feel<\/span> proud of me. That was my plan <\/span>which <\/span>I achieved.<\/span><\/p>\n

Friday <\/span>1<\/span>4<\/span> June 2013 (06 PM)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

After a <\/span>sleepless night<\/span>, I decide<\/span>d<\/span> I must go to Cairo. I found a reasonably<\/span> priced ticket<\/span> and prepared my luggage. I felt a strange mixture of relief at making the decision to go and dread at what I might find when I got there.<\/span><\/p>\n

Saturday 15 June 2013 (0<\/span>9<\/span> A<\/span>M)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

At the<\/span> airport, I was about to forget my trolley after drinking my coffee. On the plane, I stopped for seconds to remember my seat number. Will I see him alive? How would he receive me after that long time<\/span>?<\/span><\/p>\n

As I was waiting <\/span>for the plane to take off<\/span>, I started to have that feeling you often get before a plane journey, about who I should be telling about this trip \u2013 especially as I had made the decision to go so hastily. My thoughts turned to Maria. <\/span>Three months h<\/span>ad passed since she left London and her studies with me at college. H<\/span>er mother <\/span>had <\/span>died and she had to go <\/span>back <\/span>to take care of her old father<\/span> in <\/span>Cyprus<\/span>. <\/span>She was really the only person I\u2019d made a strong connection with here in London. I met her the first day of the induction week. <\/span>I was standing alone<\/span> and was far from having the courage<\/span> to <\/span>talk to anyone, let alone a foreign girl. <\/span>But s<\/span>he <\/span>did. <\/span>She greeted me <\/span>warmly <\/span>and <\/span>began a conversation <\/span>which lasted for <\/span>an<\/span> hour. I was filled with happiness, satisfaction and <\/span>a new excitement about my life in this cold, tough city. A <\/span>longing for tomorrow. <\/span>That was the beginning. <\/span><\/p>\n

We <\/span>started<\/span> to <\/span>meet almost every day.<\/span> After a while I felt she had a lot of <\/span>the same characteristics as <\/span>my sister and <\/span>mother.<\/span>S<\/span>he used to buy<\/span> vegetables and come to <\/span>my place to <\/span>cook for me<\/span>.<\/span> She <\/span>managed to revive<\/span> my love <\/span>of<\/span> music and helped me to bu<\/span>y another keyboard and practise<\/span>. <\/span>Maria had become my close<\/span>s<\/span>t friend. I started to teach her Arabic, <\/span>and we used <\/span>to <\/span>listen to Arabic<\/span> music<\/span> together<\/span>, an<\/span>d watch Arabic films<\/span>.<\/span> But alas \u2013 when she left for Cyprus she hadn\u2019t come<\/span> back<\/span>; I <\/span>was <\/span>torn apart. <\/span>I heard my father\u2019s voice waking me up for pray<\/span>er<\/span>s<\/span>. We were about to <\/span>land in<\/span> Cairo.<\/span><\/p>\n

Saturday 15 June 2013 (09 PM)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

I managed to visit my father in hospital; we didn\u2019t talk; he was in a <\/span>coma<\/span>.<\/span> It was horrifying for me to see the state he was in. The strong man of my childhood, reduced to a dribbling, helpless body in a dirty bed. <\/span>I returned home with my mum and sister without <\/span>any of us saying anything<\/span>. Everybody <\/span>was keeping <\/span>their thoughts to themselves<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sunday 16 June 2013<\/span> (07 PM)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

My sister washed my shirts, underwear and socks and put them aside next to my trolley; my mum cooked some food to take with me for the journey<\/span> back to London<\/span>. She brought it to me in my old room. I saw signs of old age on her face. <\/span>I hugged her \u201cDon\u2019t worry mum, he will be fine, God willing. I will come back after my exams.\u201d<\/span> She gently pushed me aside and opened my trolley to put the food and arrange my clothes. The trolley was not empty; there was <\/span>a pyjama top<\/span>, a red one<\/span>with little white flowers<\/span>. \u201cOh my God!\u201d I whispered to myself.<\/span> It was the one Maria had left in my room, and which I\u2019d been sleeping on over my pillow since the day she left.<\/span> My mother got it out silently, raised <\/span>it <\/span>towards me and asked with <\/span>accusation<\/span>: \u201cWhat is this, son?\u201d I couldn<\/span>\u2019t answer her sudden question with<\/span> the speed she wanted. <\/span>I stuttered and paused then said with false courage: \u201cIt seems that I took my <\/span>housemate<\/span>\u2019s trolley<\/span> by mistake<\/span>, mum.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

She swallowed my <\/span>fictitious<\/span> clarification<\/span> and advised me to return it to <\/span>its<\/span> owner.<\/span> I was not stable for a few minutes; I claimed I was dizzy and sat down; my sister dashed to the kitchen to bring water for me. What should I say to you mum? <\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s her<\/span>s<\/span>; it\u2019<\/span>s Maria<\/span>\u2019s. <\/span>It was in February; <\/span>she had caught a horrible c<\/span>old. I\u2019d never been to her room<\/span> before, but <\/span>summoned the courage and took <\/span>a nice Arabic film with me.<\/span>T<\/span>he weather was freezing<\/span> and <\/span>she didn\u2019t mind when I stayed<\/span> a while <\/span>after the film<\/span>. <\/span>She surprised me, by telling me I could take the old sofa<\/span> in the lounge<\/span> and leave in the morning<\/span>. <\/span>After <\/span>an<\/span> hour<\/span>,<\/span> she woke me up terrified<\/span>; she was shivering out of fear; she had a <\/span>feverish <\/span>nightmare<\/span> and<\/span> begged me to lie down next to her <\/span>until she <\/span>fell back<\/span> asleep<\/span>. I squeezed myself in less than half a metre<\/span> in the little single bed, hardly able to breathe with anticipation<\/span>, <\/span>but trying to remain as still as a <\/span>log,<\/span> my though<\/span>ts were not steady<\/span>. I closed<\/span> my eyes,<\/span> but I could not stop the <\/span>beating <\/span>of my heart from getting <\/span>faster and louder. Maria was wearing that red pyjama<\/span> top<\/span>;<\/span> it was soaked with her sweat.<\/span> Maria\u2019s body started to fill the bed<\/span> with warmth; her <\/span>smell <\/span>spread<\/span> in the room<\/span>. Suddenly she screamed \u201cNo, no, mum!\u201d I woke her up and calmed her down \u201cDon\u2019t worry Maria, I\u2019m with you.\u201d I hugged her<\/span> and <\/span>voluntarily<\/span> opened the cage for my bird to fly freely<\/span> in the sky with Maria\u2019s. Maria <\/span>felt a lot better when she woke in the morning, but we were shy around each other. When she left for college, I couldn\u2019t help myself. I took that red pyjama top and couldn\u2019t decide whether<\/span>,<\/span> I hoped<\/span>,<\/span> she might or might not realise<\/span>. This<\/span> red piece of cloth, a trophy<\/span> of my first<\/span> sin, mother<\/span>,<\/span> my <\/span>sin of love.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tuesday 18 June 2013 (10 AM)<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

My father died in hospital this morning in his coma. God bless his soul.<\/span><\/p>\n

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  Thursday 13 June 2013, (08 AM) Today is my birthday; I completed eighteen difficult years on this earth. But my new year seems to be bleaker from its beginning. My father is in hospital in Cairo in a criticalcondition; he was shot and seriously injured. My elder sister shocked me with the bad news…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3092,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_kad_post_transparent":"default","_kad_post_title":"default","_kad_post_layout":"default","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"default","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"default","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[111],"tags":[109,214,202,113],"class_list":["post-3090","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-stories","tag-literature","tag-pyjamas","tag-short-story-en","tag-stories"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/05\/The-Pyjamas.jpg?fit=1920%2C1080&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3090","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3090"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3090\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3091,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3090\/revisions\/3091"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3092"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3090"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3090"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elashiry.com\/English\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3090"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}