Disturbed since he arrived, haunted by cruel memories and bloody faces, surrounded by ghostly images of dead souls, broken pieces, human remains and desperate cries. The gory corpses in his mind’s eye traumatize him with each waking moment, even though he is safe now, there is nothing that can erase the past.
He looks around himself and finds emptiness. The crowd confuses his mind and makes him lonelier. He has merged with unknown souls. He talks with them, he listens to them, he argues with them, he loves them…to others he is insane.
His blonde hair and blue eyes makes him a stranger amongst these people.
Since his arrival to this land, the crowd has ridiculed him, their eyes staring, probing, and watching his every move. The children mock him, laughing at his strange pallor, giggling as he stutters which started from fear, and the loud cannon blasts.
The more he grows, the more the fear grows within him and the need to hide grows. Panic is rooted in his heart.
In their eyes, he has tried to find a friend but in vain, for all of them despise him.
Five years have past since he first arrived here from war torn Bosnia
He survived the war but now he sees this endless sea of uncaring faces.
His name is Maged. His father’s occupation was in tourism. His parents met in Bosnia Serbia
Maged was eight and his sister was three at that time. Now Maged is bewildered, which language should they speak? His mother speaks Bosnian at home with his father but here, in the street, they speak a strange language with mixed voices and their eyes always stare. This makes him feel divided and detached. Fear is with him always, memories of the war haunt him, he can still see dead bodies, dismembered limbs...everything happened so quickly, someone that he spoke to a moment ago lies with his throat cut.
Here the fear is different but still he feels the same sense of horror; he cannot distinguish his feelings anymore. It is all a nightmare!
His father had told him of this land, this bountiful land, and its loving inhabitants, the lush green plants, and the love.
Yes, his father had told him but, his father did not understand how lost his son felt, how wounded. His father did not probe into his feelings... his father trusted his Kinsmen.
Things were different for his sister, she was so young when it happened, she easily overcame any of the experiences and adapted quickly, forgetting the past. Life was different for him he could never forget, the past, which echoed in his mind. Maged could still hear the sounds; the carnage, replays like a movie, over and over his constant companion.
His father left him to his own defenses thinking that he would improve, trusting the goodwill of his fellowman.
Does his father not realize things may have changed since he went away? Did he not consider?
People change.
At first children had thronged around him out of curiosity not friendship. Because of his size, some wanted to test his strength, quickly discovering, that he was but a coward, afraid to stand up to them, which they found hilarious. They bullied him, each one bragging with dignity how he had knocked Maged to the ground.
All this boy wants is to be left alone, so he can silently roam the streets and know peace. His father thought he was grown up, and he wished the could tell him the truth, his son had become a joke!
His mother, who daily thanked God for their survival, stayed at home, with her heart at ease…for she could finally sleep without fearing for her life, or that of her family’s.
Maged asked his father to buy him earphones… but it was not so much as to listen to music but to escape, to find refuge from the staring eyes. As the sounds of music filled his ears, other sounds became hushed and he withdrew into himself becoming invisible. This becomes his shield, his shelter. He prefers to walk in remote places, afraid to be seen, acting out his imaginary play. He mimics a foreigner as they are treated with respect and kindness. He hears the words clearly….”Hi…. Hello…. Welcome”…and this makes him feel warm and loved and thus he retreats deeper and deeper into this safe fantasy world. When he feels that someone might get too close, he retaliates with abusive shouting and the kicking of stones. Those are his defenses.
I once tried to help him, to show him that he did not have to be alone. I make every effort to show him love. I attempt to enter his world but fail.
I took him to an institution where I thought he could be helped, he was reluctant to go, but after gentle persuasion, I managed to have him admitted. He ran away from there and I was told…”Maged prefers to be alone, roaming the streets, insulting his hallucinations, he is insane, he cannot be helped.”
One evening Maged went for a walk, he did not realize how far away from home he was, he just walked aimlessly, tuned into his music, unaware of how far he had gone. The most amazing thing happened; the farther he ventured into a new area, the more aware he was of the difference in the people. It is true they were just ordinary people, but they looked at him like and equal, they did not mock him or stare at him rudely, nor did they speak down to him. He could understand them even better than his own mother tongue. Maged stopped listening to his music and stood listening to their animated conversation.
He found himself very close to three young men his own age. They were staring at him. What should he do? Should he insult them? Should he kick stones?
Should he act insane? Should he pretend he was a foreigner?
As he was contemplating on what to do, his mind flashed back... he remembered a Serbian soldier who had killed his friend’s father, no mercy had been granted, he was shot at point blank range, and blood had gushed from his faceless head.
He could not avoid the youngsters now; they came closer. They surrounded him, staring maliciously.
He smirked idiotically, his heart pounding against his ribs, his voice disappearing, his feet rooted to the spot. He was completely aghast with fear as they came face to face.
One of them said something and Maged understood that they wanted his headphones; the other taunted him with a small knife while the third one pushed him violently.
Maged removed his headphones, giving it to them with nervous fingers, his eyes apprehensive; it felt as if the knife was the Serbian bullet.
As the youngsters were checking the headphones, Maged broke away and started to run for his life.
He ran, and he ran, like a guilty sheep from a flying arrow.
Faster and faster, all his ghosts returning, the images changing into flying arrows, chasing, pursuing, there was no time to catch his breath, they might catch him…stab him. Breathless, he reached home and only felt safe once he was sobbing loudly against his father’s chest but the horror never left his eyes.
His influential father managed to find the boys and his headphones the following day.
Maged is now 16... insanity is firmly rooted in his mind…he now learned to deal with people, and the children do not mock or tease him anymore, they have become accustomed.
He still has no friends; he has never spoken to a girl other than his sister.
Whenever Maged had tried to approcach a girl she shied away from him, so he remains alone.
Now he trudges along very slowly, his clothes are untidy, his hair disheveled and always he appears unkempt! One would think he is dumb, for he is always silent.
Yes, for those whose eyes cannot truly see, It was said “Maged likes to be an idiot.”
………
In the famous square of Helmya
A little way off in a darkened corner Maged stands alone…still he wears his headphones…his body is moving in a strange exaggerated way... a kind of dance I suppose.
I had been walking on the other side of the street when I saw him. Oh how I wanted to greet him to see him face to face. I moved closer and closer, I caught his eye, he returned my greeting, but he did not stop moving, he danced on, lost and alone, I can see the tears running freely down his face,his nose wet with mucus, this time he is so hidden in his dance yet nobody sees he is a stranger to them all.
The end
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