We don’t have a generator at home. This is part of the great misery of mine.
It is now 5:32 am. This means I have less than half an hour to enjoy the unthinkable bless of having power going on. After that, a hellish conflict from within will set off. The conflict is easy to comprehend, for I am now venting my anger and writing this piece so as to forget what sort of torture I am bound to tolerate. The conflict is easy describe in words, for I have just to chose between the devil and the deep blue sea. but you never feel it.
Time goes by so fast, and I have to make my decision.
It is either I go to sleep now, or I never sleep. The reason is that God had opted to plague us with a blistering, boiling, baking, roasting, scorching, searing, sweltering summer day— I could reach my conclusion God is not pleased with us— and now power, hasn’t gone off yet, can run a fan. A fan will bring air. Air is what is missing. I can sleep, therefore.
It is 5:39 am. Time is closing in its deadline. And I have to define my priorities. But I am confused; I can’t focus.
If I don’t sleep now, I will have to struggle with the most distressing and vexatious moments I’ve been going through in my entire life. If I don’t sleep now, I will never sleep without, first, being tortured by my dear weather, neighbour, and myself.
It’s really hot here. I have begun to swelter. Let me tell you something my maternal grandfather told me a couple of days ago. My grandfather told me that he has never gone through such a hot weather in his life. (he’s 86 years old, and I love him!) and I heard a story about why the weather is this hot all over the world that some portion of the sun has split off and the story goes on! I didn’t believe that, by the way.
However, I did believe my grandfather. He doesn’t lie. He is 86 years old, and he fears God, indeed.
In any case, it has become 5:50. I am running out of time.
I won’t be able to sleep without some fresh air produced by the fan run by power, which will go off less than 10 minutes from now.
But what on earth is preventing me from going to sleep now?—this is the question, indeed.
Simply, If I decide to sleep, you won’t be reading this scribble, and this means the conflict will remain inwards. I will fail to release myself from these tormenting thoughts. I will sleep, oppressed.
I don’t know, but the word ‘oppression’ seems the most admirable word to me in English. It is just the word I am looking for. Yes, oppression. This is oppression.
If I don’t sleep now, then I will have to struggle getting over and trying not to hear the sound of scores of generators, all conspiring with each other against me—why does it seems ‘sound’ is very elusive to describe these appalling demonic revs?
We don’t’ have a generator at home, but our neighbours, mostly all of them, do have. They just switch on their generators when power goes off. And they have power running on again. This is part of the great comfort of my neighbours.
Can you imagine countless bizarre creatures turning up to you in the middle of a dark horrendous nightmare, all swarming in your direction in the bosom of a vast dense forest, replete with giant tremendous trees, these creatures racing each other who will get to you, first. They all arrive at the same moment, and tightly grabbing, they start producing fiendishly unfathomable sounds right in your ear. Just simultaneously!
Our neighbours, mostly all of them, have generators at home. This is precisely the great misery of mine.
Oh, there is something I forgot to tell you about.
It is 8:22 pm now. And we have power. There is a fan next to me giving me some chilling air. I could escape neither the devil nor the deep blue sea. Both were there in my mind as I got to sleep this morning. I slept, oppressed. I thought I will come to finish the piece before power goes off, but unfortunately I’m always the weak part. I always lose.
In fact, I don’t lose though they do win! (I really don’t know who they are.)
I was hanging out with a friend the other day. We have numerous things in common, but the most relieving part of our mutuality is that we both don’t have a generator at home. It was dark all over the street we walked along. And the weather was intolerably stuffy. Generators surrounded us from every direction. We thought we were escaping our homes to have fun outside. Obviously, we were mistaken. I told my friend how bad I feel when I hear the sound of too many generators screaming at once. He just nodded to me and said it was the same feeling he always failed to express. It was tormenting him from inside.
I had a similar chat with another friend of mine. Likewise, we have many things in common. However, this time we sat by ourselves on the roof of my friend’s house. It was dark except for a faint light coming from the nearby houses which were run by generators of different sizes— and noises, therefore. I barely talked but kept listening to things I always failed to express. He told me depressed he felt when power went off, and how he was bound to suffer due to the several generators around.
There is one great and significant contributor to this great tragedy I forgot to tell you about. (I’m sorry about my messy points; it’s just as messy as my thoughts are, or even the revs of the generator are) It is the fact that we’re living in Ramadan. Those who fast Ramadan know what it means to refrain from eating and drinking for more than 14 hours each day. But this is God’s will; we can’t talk about it.
My two friends and I don’t have a generator at our homes. This is part of the great misery of ours. Now—as you might have started to wonder—why on earth don’t you buy a generator and put an end to all this miserable life?!
But the question is why should I? Apart form the main normal and easily deduced reasons, I don’t want to buy a generator. Do I have to suffer, then?
Seemingly, the equation has become, it is either you buy a generator, or you’re destined to remain a poor creature, a loser, and a sufferer.
A generator won’t ward off the endless rowdy revs of our neighbours’ generators. And clearly we won’t be carrying a generator and walking along the street each time my friend and I wanted to have fun!
Moreover, a generator won’t establish you a state. Power does. If you don’t have power, you never have a state. This is what some driver wrathfully told me while giving me a ride through a dark street.
Mohammed Rabah Suliman