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الروايات والمسرح يشمل الاعمال المسرحية والروائية العربية والاجنبية






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قديم 27-04-2007, 02:38 PM
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A Suicide Of An Ant



A SUICIDE OF AN ANT
د. أحمد عبد العال( أحمد فنديس)




“I am tired of this life,” an ant said talking to herself. “I am tired of this daily obsession with food. Searching for food launches me into the heavy task of storing food, which, in turn, leads to the even heavier task of having to guard and defend what one has stored. Every morning throws me into the same tiring vicious circle where, sometimes, I keep twirling around the clock according to my shift. So many times, I even have to skip my morning shower and just run to meet my daily ordeal. I have to spot the places rich in crumbs to finally present my colleagues with a clear map indicating the sites of food, but even then, I still can have no rest. What kind of life is this?

The depressed ant lived in the corner of one modest flat that provided the best food an ant could possibly dream of. The lucky inhabitants concluded their meals by having the most delicious fruits. Thus, bread, cheese, chicken and meat were followed by bananas, oranges, guava and, to crown it all, grapes, the best ant food ever. They also had the sweetest drinks, tea, anise, fenugreek, saleb and a lot more. “Wow!” She could not help exclaiming at the mere mention of saleb. “What else can an ant ask for?”

One day, the family was blessed with a new baby and, likewise, the ants were blessed with such an abundance of leftovers that each single ant had her entire sesame seed and the food they stored that night could suffice them for years to come. They were too happy to care about the hilarious seventh day rituals that lasted till early morning and made it impossible for them to sleep.

The angry ant mounted the roof of a towering apartment building that stood like a bully giant denying her modest building its share of sunlight and fresh air. She was just about to jump when, out of curiosity, she decided to have a look into the top floor apartment of that luxurious building. It was apparently inhabited by a family of the elite. She examined the expensive paintings covering the walls and seeing that they carried the signatures of famous artists, still decided that they were mere crab. Reluctant to leave the air-conditioned apartment with the magnificent furniture, she decided, as a sort of granting herself a death wish, to gratify herself by spending a few hours there. Postponing her suicide mission a little, would not hurt at all.

No matter how sincerely she tried, the ant could no way get herself accustomed to the food of the rich inhabitants. Their food exceeded the usual three meals. They ate goose livers, gazelle and peacock meat and croissant. In their gatherings, they had the most unfamiliar appetizers to go with their equally unfamiliar drinks, very much unlike the nice nuts, and sunflower seeds, which accompanied the gatherings in the old flat which were mostly around TV. Her mouth watered at the mere remembrance of a piece of sweetened carob, which she had all to herself in the last gathering she attended. The ant had a conviction that that the rich inhabitants were busy people working day and night or how else would they attain such expensive possessions? Perhaps then, she was not the only creature who had to toil in order to feed herself. That was a truly uplifting idea, so uplifting indeed, that she considered the cancellation of her suicide mission.

One day, the ant tried a certain drink that she mistook for licorice. The result was that she regained consciousness only the following day to face the ridicule of a whole ant congregation that followed her the previous day while she zigzagged out of consciousness. The misled ants believed that she was performing her usual job and drawing the route to food sites.

Everyday, after dinner, the rich apartment underwent a considerable change. While the food was removed, the drinks remained with piles of appetizers and foreign sweets. The pack of cards sustained their spot as a solid landmark and words that she could make nothing of always reached her ears. She had completely forgotten about her suicide mission and the days when, even coming across the smallest seed would be a thrilling event. She waded in almonds and peanuts and, thanks to the plenty of rich food, became almost too heavy to move.

Something, however, was definitely the matter with the inhabitants of the luxurious flat. The way they dressed, moved or flirted while they spoke were all so suspicious. Something dirty and immoral hovered in the air. It all finally dawned on her one particular night when the red lights marking the elegant rooms were kept on through the night and right into the following morning. Quickly, the ant collected her precious preserving of cashew and meet and washed them down the drain. She threw up whatever she had eaten that day and sincerely yearned for the carob and other delicacies she usually had in her old haven.

Climbing the wall, she stood up all love and reverence on the window of her dear old flat. Sad as she was, she could not help a smile when she saw the baby crawling. She kept quickly opening her eyes after tightly closing them as if they were wipers erasing the memories of the previous night. Finally, she made up her mind and threw herself. The ant’s jump was instantly opposed by a warm, light wind that hindered her free fall entangling her in a nice, little whirlpool till she spiraled out of consciousness. When she, eventually, regained it, she found herself in her old haven, surrounded by all the familiar, precious crumbs of saleb and licorice. Fortunately, there was a delicious looking piece of sweetened carob, not very far from the crawling baby of the dear, old modest flat.

Translated by:DR. Nabila Marzouk
Englsh Litrature Lucturer,Faculty of Education
Fayoum University




 
 
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قديم 25-03-2013, 11:12 PM
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