The Harbor and Other Stories

Mohamed Sultan AlOwais

Description

Sometimes, I find the present just fades away and becomes background noise. This is when the past – with its bank of memories – takes over, and I find myself as if watching a documentary, complete with images, movement and the pulse of life. Certain triggers raid my mind and take me from my present life to a long-distant past in such a way that I can see and relive it in detail, and even move between its different scenes. But those scenes and details are not always pleasant, for some still bring sorrow, and these are the ones whose existence I try hard to forget. And though I might sometimes succeed, their influences remain in every cell of my body, and they leave me overwhelmed with anguish and pain. Is it my nostalgia for the past that keeps taking me back to those ‘stations’ of my life? Some of the stops on my journey are too hazy to attract my attention, and I hurriedly pass them by. Others are so vivid and clear that I prefer to linger there, press rewind, and play again.

Sujets

• True Stories

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley
• Date de parution: 31 août 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9789948044628
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

A l F urdha - T he H arbor - a nd O ther S tories
Translated by: Soad Khalil Edited by: Bridget Wilkins
Mohamed Sultan AlOwais
Austin Macauley Publishers
2022-08-31
Al Furdha - The Harbor - and Other Stories Al Furdha - The Harbor - and Other Stories Dedication Copyright Information © Author’s Note Introduction Al Furdha Al-Deira Ibn Abi Ghassān Salih Ibn Ali Kareem and Sirpaz Café Za’farana and Fareej al-Sharq The Blue Gate Isma’il The Red Carnation Flower
Al Furdha - The Harbor
and Other Stories
Dedication
Life is a series of stations.
We stop at some and take a look around; others, we pass through.
Along the way, we may meet a friend, or lose a loved one, and although we may long for this dear person’s return, it is always in vain.
As for me, my father will forever be the center of all my memories and stories, and I often stop and reminisce at that station.
For my father’s wisdom will always be my first school.
May God have mercy on you and forgive you, my dear father.
Copyright Information ©
Mohamed Sultan AlOwais 2022
Illustrated by Ihsan Al-Khateeb
The right of Mohamed Sultan AlOwais and Ihsan Al-Khateeb to be identified as author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with Federal Law No. (7) of UAE, Year 2002, Concerning Copyrights and Neighboring Rights.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to legal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The age group that matches the content of the books has been classified according to the age classification system issued by the National Media Council.
ISBN 9789948044611 (Paperback)
ISBN 9789948044628 (E-Book)
Application Number: MC-10-01-7232728
Age Classification: 13+
Printer Name: iPrint Global Ltd
Printer Address: Witchford, England
First Published 2022
AUSTIN MACAULEY PUBLISHERS FZE
Sharjah Publishing City
P.O Box [519201]
Sharjah, UAE
www.austinmacauley.ae
[phone]
Author’s Note
These are events that I experienced personally but my imagination has contributed a lot to their final stylistic and structural expression.
Some of them follow the form and techniques of short-story writing and some are simply narrations, but all are based on certain incidents that I thought I had to document.
Following on from my first book, Dubai Creek, Stories from My Memory, I chose the title Al-Furdha (The Harbor) and Other Stories for this new book, for they are truly ‘just stories.’
Introduction
The years pass by, leaving behind a host of memories and the people who have given life to beautiful times that, unfortunately, have not been recorded by today’s modern mass media or by the cameras of our smart phones, in this age of technological revolution. Modern civilization has never given credit to those days or to those people even though, in reality, it has been built on their remains. It does not celebrate the beauty of those olden times or the kindness of those people who strived to establish our country and proud heritage. Unfortunately, the modern world has never truly appreciated any of its glorious legacies.
Thus, the writings of my friend Mohamed Sultan Al-Owais help us rewind and play back this memory tape, for they, in most part, pick up precious pearls from the Emirates region and, by weaving them together, produce accounts and narrations charged with yearnings for those times whose details our fathers and grandfathers still remember and cherish. Such writings are creative expressions of history that have the ability to ignite the memories of the fathers, while portraying inspirational scenes of this history for their children who, immersed in modern culture, have missed out on so much beauty.
As we publish this collection of short stories, to which the author gave the title Al Furdha (The Harbor), and Other Stories , we offer our dear readers a wealth of images that are pure expressions of the feelings and emotions of an Arab who takes pride in his nation’s history, achievements and heritage. This is an important initiative and a creative work of art that we hope will document the bygone days for generations to come. Such stories, whether fictional or real, are truly priceless accounts of our people, culture, and traditions.
Hence, it is important that gifted writers like my brother Mohamed Sultan Al-Owais produce similar iconic literary works that have the capacity to inspire the younger generations to build on the accomplishments of our predecessors, in the hope of creating a bright future without forgetting or destroying the past.
Jamal Ibn Howair
CEO
Mohammed Bin Rashid Al Maktoum Knowledge Fou
Al Furdha
(The Port)
From his retreat next to the window at the back wall of the shop, his father’s voice calls.
“Ahmed, you’ve got work today! You need to head to the port to certify the release documents; I can’t go myself, I have work here.”
He continues, “The port is near, ha! It shouldn’t take long to go and come back! You get it, right?”
“Yes, Father, I’ll go right away.”
So, Ahmed places the documents and 5 rupees in a clear plastic bag and heads to the port, Dubai’s Port and Customs Department, which lies on the other side of the bay. The certification of cargo clearance transaction has become part of Ahmed’s job now that he’s familiar with the process, having accompanied his father several times to the place.
Ahmed always enjoys this job. He never heads directly to the port but tarries a while, and often dillydallies a while longer in the market before actually getting the work done. His father knows this only too well, but just turns a blind eye.
On his way to the port, Ahmed passes by the Hasaweya, the city’s date market, where he dawdles and enjoys the sights and sounds along the alleyway branching from the Morshid marketplace before finally reaching the water’s edge. He imagines diving into the inky blue waters there, where the ships laden with dates dock just opposite.
In the Hasaweya, you can see nothing but dates – dates piled up in every corner as far as the eye can see. You can see them in the shops, lined up on both sides of the alleyway, heaped up the walls on both sides of the market – even in the middle where the sellers display their assortments. Everywhere you look, you see bags of palm fronds piled as high as a man, oozing with that thick, dark liquid – the molasses. The market sits in the shade of the palm fronds and is filled with an incredible fragrance, and threads of light travel from the ceiling through the gaps in the fronds to dance on the floor, on the cases of dates and on the passers-by, creating such a marvelous, magical atmosphere.
There, at the end of the passageway, the men work non-stop unloading the ship. Their bodies are covered in the molasses which leaks from the bags onto the floor where it sticks to people’s shoes and feet.
The moment he enters the Hasaweya, someone calls out his name. It’s Haji Khudair, an acquaintance of his father. Ahmed rushes up to him.
“Hello (Salam ’Alikom), uncle!”
“Hey, son! How are you doing? And how’s your father? Hope you’re both well! Going to the port?”
Ahmed says yes, and Haji hands him a few of the dates on display.
“Try these, I bet you don’t know this one. It’s called ‘Shoehi’ – unbelievably delicious and, look! It shines like gold!”
So Ahmed sits there until he’s finished eating – what a great excuse to stay here a little bit longer! In fact, he really enjoys these moments spent beside that wooden table where Khudair displays his goods. The man is known for his sweet tongue and kind words, all uttered in an Iraqi accent that sings out across the market.
Such a pleasant attitude has earned him everybody’s love and has made it easy for him to sell his goods. The man is always giving away a few dates, even to people he doesn’t know. If he just catches sight of someone looking at his dates from afar, he calls out, “Come on in, friend, take a handful!”
And he would really just give them some. Often, he would call the porters and workers over to give them some of his dates. Abbas, their supervisor, is always close by, and Khudair nicknames him ‘Abbasna’(Our Abbas).
From there, Ahmed heads off to the Abra – small canoes that rowers sail to the other side of the bay where they dock near the beach. To get to the Abra, you have to walk, very carefully, on a dosa, a long bar extended from the beach to the Abra (the canoe). In some cases, the sailor extends a long supporting stick for those who can’t keep their balance. Of all the sailors, Ahmed prefers Gharib and waits for him if it isn’t his turn yet; his dad does the same, for he knows Gharib well and they always chit chat their way through their trips. As for Ahmed, he just says Salam, confirms that his father is well, then watches all the fish swimming and overtaking each other under the canoe. On the other side of the bay, Ahmed gets off at Bandar Talib and hands Gharib a quarter which Gharib at first rejects, but then accepts at Ahmed’s insistence.
From there, Ahmed heads to the port, crossing through a hall that runs along the dock of the bay packed with different sized wooden boxes. These are goods unloaded from the large ships at sea and brought to the port via light boats that can cross the shallow bay water. There are so many boxes that they block most openings and passageways and people have to zigzag and take diversions to get to their destination. At the end of the hall, there’s a steep staircase leading to a spacious roof, the roof of the port’s main warehouse. Ahmed crosses that roof top to get to a long sabat (hallway) lined with offices and rooms, the biggest of which is the Sheikh’s barzah (office), where the ruler sits accompanied