Monday, April 18, 2011

A Tale by the Waves

Back in the 1960’s, before the Emirates was even born, 
there grew up a boy by the shores of 
Abu Dhabi, promising to be the greatest pearl diver ever. 


This is a short story I wrote for my English H.W, I hope you like it. ☺
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 “Daddy, when are we going to reach Grandpa’s beach house?” asked Obaid

“Count to twenty and when you’re done, we’ll be there.”

“Really papa?” asked Mubarak with enthusiasm, “One, two, three… and twenty”

The kids were screaming with joy as they got out of the car, they loved to visit my father and hear about the old Abu Dhabi. I got out, locked the car and walked to my parents. I kissed their foreheads,

“Hamdan, I’ve missed you so much! How are you? And how’s Dhabya doing?” asked mother

“I’m fine, and she’s doing great. She went to a family gathering, she’d love to be here but she couldn’t.”

“Obaid, how are you with school?” asked Father

“It’s good Grandpa, I have a lot of friends and I learnt the Arabic alphabets too!” replied Obaid with enthusiasm

“Recite them for us, son” said Father. And Obaid did, while his siblings were singing along and pretending to know the alphabets. I looked at my father’s face, every wrinkle represents a story he’s been through. Stories that time carved on his face, and they wouldn’t be forgotten easily. I looked at my children, with their eyes gleaming to their Grandfather’s riddles and short stories. My mother was busy with sewing a jacket for Mubarak for winter; he was her favorite because he resembled my father a lot. His eyes, face structures, sitting position, even the way he talks, you name it. He was a smaller version of my father. 

We moved our place by the fire, because the kids loved to hear their Grandfather’s stories accompanied with the voice of the waves. It was near the shore, but not too near. The kids came running towards the fire, each with one holding a blanket. They put them on the floor and sat on them. Osha brought her blanket over and sat on my lap. My father cleared his throat, and started his story:

Once upon a time, there was a family of three, a father, a mother and their only son, Mubarak. The father worked as a pearl diver, and in his free time he caught fish for his family. Mubarak loved to follow his father everywhere, and when he was four, his father taught him some verses from the Qur’an, fishing techniques and how to pray. Mubarak was very obedient; he loved to please his parents in every way. When Mubarak completed his seventh year, his father showed him the place where he usually fishes. It was far from the shore, a place where most thought of it as fish free, where as it had plenty of fish. The father was known as the best pearl diver; he was always wanted and couldn’t always be there for Mubarak. But Mubarak appreciated his father’s devotion to his work, and how he’s always there when he’s needed. One day, Mubarak caught fever from the neighbor’s kid, and he couldn’t go fishing with his father. His mother took care of him. A storm was on its way to the village, but no one knew about it. The father took his small boat to the shore and was on his way to his usual fishing spot. When he reached there, he saw the black cloud glide across the sky, and he knew it was too late to come back. Nevertheless, he fought the waves, because he didn’t want to leave an orphan and widow after him. But Mother Nature always wins over humans, and so, the father was never seen again. Some believe he drowned, and some thought the waves took him to another place. But Mubarak chose to believe that his father has drowned, because he didn’t want to be waiting for his father’s return and be disappointed over and over again. Here, Mubarak didn't know what to do, he wanted to help his mother, but was too young to have a job. So he searched for one of his father’s friend, a fisherman. The fisherman’s name was Nassir, and he gave the kid a job. Nassir wasn’t disappointed; the kid always caught the best fish and Nassir’s shop was flourishing, everybody wanted the fish. As soon as the Mubarak hit his teens, he trained on pearl diving. When he turned sixteen, he quit his job with Nassir and went on his first trip to pearl diving. When they arrived at the place, he was the first one to jump into the sea; he was gone for three minutes and when he came back, he had 3 black pearls. Soon enough, he was known as the best pearl diver Abu Dhabi ever had. But Abu Dhabi was flourishing, and soon pearls lost their value. But the boy led a great life, and learnt valuable lessons from those he met.”

I'd love to hear your opinions on this piece of writing! \☺/

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