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.
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.
This happened sometime during 11th grade. We had a basketball match against one of the 10th graders teams. It was the school’s intramural Basketball tournament and with the Tawjihi people out of the way we had a chance at getting gold. I remember the team consisting of myself, Slvador, 6am6am, Masri and 5th member which kept coming on and off. The starter was Deya2, though.
The game was happening in the school’s GYM hall with some crowd, mainly people who had miserable lives and nothing else better to do than watch a basketball game. Midway through the game, Malek came asking me to participate in the match. I can’t remember why but I kinda told him that I wouldn’t want that happening and he actually took to his heels and ran out, as I figured out later, with tears in his eyes. Apparently, some girl he was intending to impress was amongst the audience that day.
In a strike of irony, I remember 7neiti playing in some other basketball game for the exact same reason. He was a starter and after his first go, in which he failed to even hit the board, Slvador/6am6am chased him out of the hall.
I guess apologies are due to Malek. Sorry!
I will be trying to keep these short and just aim to remind us of these small memories, trifle as they may be.
Since our history started at Jubilee school, it’d make sense to start with one of our first encounters there. In this one, I’ll break the “has a meaning” rule that Odin has enforced. I, nonetheless, find this one w Continue reading “Tales of Yore #1”