So, in 11th grade they decided a good step to be taken towards widening our cultural horizons was through improvising a new Drama class. We were to choose between that or painting. Needless to say, all of them guys chose the drama thingy. This drama class might ranks, without a shadow of doubt, amongst the richest sources of tales of yore. I have selected one that involves a friend of ours that is officially declared MIA.
On our very first Drama class, the teacher thought we needed some sort of exercise, game, that would help us get started + help us meld together into a teamworking form for whatever was supposed to wait next. So, we were told to form 2 parallel lines facing each other just at the edge of the stage. It should be noticed that the class took place in what was then considered the school’s official theatre. Back to the two lines of students facing each other at the edge of the stage; a random student was picked at random and was asked to run across the stage and dive-jump in between the 2 lines.
I cannot remember who the first one was but it was kinda fun, especially when it takes place after 5 hours of routine classes. So, more people volunteered, one by one, to take the run and jump. Soonish afterwards, the heavier students were compelled to give it a try. I remember Slvador running towards us with that crazed laugh on his face and started thinking this might be getting lamer by the minute. We absorbed the shock of his crash, somehow. To our astonishment and horror, or more precisely, astonishment-by-horror we saw Deya’ charging towards us. I’m not about to describe Deya’. He escapes description through words. Few steps away from the edge of the stage, every single one of us realized that no just God would require a mortal being to concede such a sacrifice and unanimously decided to step out of the way.
Two seconds later we had a raging lump of meat panting on the ground swearing vengeance upon all those who failed to face the harrowing of the first Drama class. And thus, started the escapade of a whole class from what was later known to be Abu Sheera.
It was a rainy Winter’s day at school. The earth was covered with what soon would be one of the main elements in our story, mud.
Omar decided it was the perfect weather to pick a fight with someone. The list of those capable of ambulating in such environmental conditions wasn’t really long. Omar’s choice of opponent was Saad. I’m not sure if I forgot the actual cause of the fight or simply that I haven’t ever get to know it but what I remember is watching Saad blaze down the corridors in pursuit of Omar. Omar’s flight led them downwards towards the GYM hall and the wilderness beyond. There, it seems that Saad has either caught up with Omar. Another possibility is that Omar has already planned for that place to be the arena in which to fight. On a second thought, the randomness and distractability of Omar makes it more probable that a “cool” looking piece of rock lying on the ground has caught his attention. The action part is the boring part. A dive to the ground, bodies twisting and shaking. The end result was a muddy silhouette of 2 males crawling back to the classrooms area at the end of the break.
The good part of the story is when the two of them were sent to Mr. Maher Mahfooz. Saad, on what can only be interpreted as a try to call onto the logic circuits in Mr. Maher’s brain, started to explain that the problem was only partly that he and Omar had a fight, which in a school isn’t a big deal, and majorly was the rain’s fault and that had the weather been a bit fairer that day, they wouldn’t have had to stand accused of any behavioral problems. The cute facial expressions on Saad’s face while presenting his arguments, added to the shock such a notion has caused to Mr. Maher, opted the later to go for the “Bellah 3alaik?” pathway.
The morale of the story:
1. Logic can and will cause serious damage when used uncloaked.
2. When engaging in melee combat in a muddy place, take off your clothes first.
3. When not able to abide by point #2, have the common sense of not showing up where other humanoids will be alarmed at your sight.
This happened sometime in 11th grade. We had a “Thaqafeh 3ammeh” lecture right after a fine Summer break. Myself and Yanal were the first to enter the lecture room, the one in the languages circle right to your left if you’re coming from the cafeteria. So, the room was empty, still a few minutes left till everyone starts flocking in. As we’d entered the room, a cold breeze carressed us through the open windows. This refreshment instigated Yanal to stand still, spread his arms wide and cry out “AIRRRRRRRY”. “Airy” being an English word that means windy etc. What Yanal didn’t take note of was the fact that our teacher “Farooq” was right behind us. To teacher Farooq, the word “airy” had quite a different meaning. He grinned, held a hand up to his mouth and said “Yanal!”.
The best part was afterwards as I banged my head against my desk laughing at Yanal’s relentless attempts to explain the missunderstanding, continuing to spam the place with the same word over and over again.