Twelve Years Later on the Bosporus

By Rabie Soubra

A novel about determinism, the liberty of challenging existence and the illusion of love

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rabie Soubra
• Release date: Sep 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311467065

Rabie Soubra

Born in 1964, in Beirut, Lebanon, married and father of two boys. A marketing and communication specialist. I love literature, especially Russian. Favorite authors include Hemingway, Joyce, Orwell, and many others. I read everything.

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Twelve Years Later on the Bosporus

By Rabie Soubra

Published by Rabie Soubra at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 Rabie Soubra

Twelve years later on the Bosporus

Here I am, sitting on the marvelous terrace of La Maison hotel in Istanbul, looking at the shimmering waters of the Bosporus, at the hundreds of ships crisscrossing in all directions, like they have done for centuries, like they have done in the shadows of countless kingdoms and empires and caliphates.

Here I am, waiting for her to show up.

How many vessels passed this strait, how many cultures, how many banners, how many soldiers, how many spies, lovers, kings and delegates ferried across it, how many conspiracies were weaved on its shores and hatched across its waters, one can only speculate.

I haven't seen her in twelve years. I haven't spoken to her much either. Just a couple of times after we had reconnected recently, thanks to modern communication technology. The Internet in general and Facebook in particular.

But for all those twelve years, not a single day passed by without her crossing my thoughts, sometimes like a small raft, sometimes like an oil tanker like the one I am looking at right now.

She didn't believe me when I told her about this. And I didn't blame her.

Who persists for twelve years?

Who loves for twelve years?

In absentia

It was five o'clock in this silvery cloudy afternoon. It looked like it was going to rain, and this heightened the sense of drama and anticipation.

She said she will come by at five, and I kept sweeping the area hoping to catch a glimpse of her coming in.

I wanted to register in my memory my first glance of her walking in, I wanted to remember what she was wearing, what she smelled like, what she looked like after all those long years.

I wanted to see if she still walked funny.

I wanted to pick it up where we left it off twelve years ago.

Our friendship started as awkwardly as it was about to resume now.

Our friendship was an attraction based on common repulsions.

On the comfort established from being thrown in a hostile territory but stumbling upon the only person who spoke the same language.

On the recognition that we hated our life and were trembling in fear in the face of the hoards of gray faceless jolly bouncing people scurrying around to meet their deadline.

We were Winston and Julia, only the betrayal was not between us but with other people.

Our friendship started in Dubai, that glimmering boiling mad scurrying small city on the sleepy Arabian Gulf where everything is a big deal.

I had just started working with a multinational communication company based in Dubai. At first I was excited to live and work in Dubai, but two months into it I started to hate it.

Everybody loved it but I hated it.

Sometimes I think that maybe I hated it because the firm I was working for turned out to be one of the worst I ever joined, and it is definitely a factor, but no. I hated Dubai. Still do.

It's too shallow. Too gruesomely struggling to have the bigger and the higher and the faster, at any cost but at no value.

What I hated even more were the people who loved it.

I was unattached then, and for a single guy Dubai could really be a hormone haven. I did have an active social life but I never returned home happy, even with the company of Dubai's finest.

But that was where I first saw her; she was working with the same firm I had just joined.

We worked in an open space, and we sat on opposite sides. She was in my field of vision, and I would glimpse her occasionally. The office was a big one, people grouped themselves like they usually do in those situations revealing immediately the coalitions and alliances. They had lunch together and took cigarette breaks together

But she wasn't with anyone. I never saw her go out for lunch with any group, I never saw her at company events. She used to bring her little lunch bag to the office and eat her little sandwich quietly and swiftly.

Our eyes met one day and I smiled. I found myself contemplating her, admiring her petite shape, graceful hands and fascinating mannerisms. I felt incredible warmth towards her, but all I could do is smile in her direction.

She smiled back and my heart sank.

After that we exchanged swift hellos and head nods, a basic level of familiarity was established. That level of familiarity made me approach her one-day as I was going out to lunch. She was just about to open her little lunch box when I suggested to her that she joins me for lunch.

Who are you going with? She inquired

Just me. I replied

OK, give me a minute. She said as she got herself ready and returned her little square sandwich to her drawer.

So, what's your story, I said to her as we sat down, trying to be light and jovial.

She smiled a very heavy smile that barely carried the strength to be visible.

Why did you ask me to come with you? She asked me abruptly. I couldn’t tell if she was angry or firm or joking.

You got me interested in you. I replied

How? She asked

General observation of your mannerisms and social behavior. First thing I noticed is that you are not part of the wolf pack, or the rat pack. I explained

Plus you have nice toes. I added, trying to lighten up the mood and break the ice while being true at the same time. She did have nice toes.

And good teeth. I humored more.

Are you married? She asked.

I am not, I said, and you?

She nodded.

This is what regret looks like. I said.

What? She inquired

While you were nodding, pieces of regret were falling down on this table.

She smiled.

Is it that bad? I ventured.

What is your idea of marriage? She asked

Marriage is the biggest disappointment ever, in my opinion, but maybe that's not what you want to hear right now.

How can you say that without being married? She asked

I haven't met one married couple who weren't thinking of getting divorced. Honestly. Marriage is an idea that carries it's own destruction with it, from the very first moments. I said

But what about love and wanting to spend your life with the person you love? She asked

Darling, marriage and love have nothing to do with each other, the sooner you realize that the happier you will live. I replied

So what? We live in total romantic anarchy? She asked

I think the fault is in setting the expectations. Why do people confuse things? Why do people desire things to remain the same forever? Love doesn’t last. When will this become a universally acknowledged fact so that we can move on? I commented

And we live alone? Forever? She asked

Not necessarily alone, although there is nothing wrong with that. It's the forever part that scares people. I replied

For some weird reason we are afraid of spending our life alone, and this fear magnifies as we grow older, also, we have a weird fear that we will not find people who love us easily, so when the marriage decision is made it is because we are surrendering to