AN ANTHOLOGY OF
MOROCCAN NEW SHORT STORY, VOLUME 1
Me, Revealed To Myself
-Short
Story-
Written by: Najib Kaaouachi
Translated
by Mohamed Saïd Raïhani
“Once, I dreamt
that I was dead. Somebody had shot me down in the street. Why kill me?! He
killed so many other souls before. He was probably used to killing me in his
dreams and now he is invading my own dream to kill me. Perhaps, if I had
carried on my dream, after my death, up till the end, I would have entered some
world where there would be no death.
That stranger’s
bullet crossed my body. I do not know him, he does not know me either. There
are no mutual feelings of animosity between us… However, even in the dream, I
never could go further than the doorstep of Death. There always comes the
morning to steal me away from that wish. Why can I not live my own death in my
own dream? Is eternity an attribute
related exclusively to dreams? Is eternity a mere dream?”
Najib Kaaouachi
Moroccan short-story writer
Born on February 12th
Subject-matter In printing:
"Unrealizable Things "
(Short stories)
He passes by so swiftly that I cannot distinguish his features. He
leaves no trace behind. I thought of setting a trap for him. I started to
identify the time when he passes by but he continued to escape from me sneering
at my traps, laughing so loudly that the entire place echoes his sarcasm.
I notice strange writings on the back of
his jacket that remains clearly drawn in my mind’s eye and freely hung in the
air. Actually, the writings on his back were so queer both in colour and shape,
written in a language that I have never heard of. A language not in use, I dare
say.
Yesterday night, I dreamt of an angel teaching me that very language. In
fact, I am accustomed to postponing to my night dreams all my day-time
problems. In this way, puzzling questions die away leaving space for spiritual
solutions.
In my dream, I was haunted by
such an intense desire to learn that queer language that I found myself
speaking it as fluently as a native speaker does.
I was happy, I told my targeted shadow: « Just wait until
tomorrow and I will show you…» but, that morning, he did not pass by nor did he
do the following day.
Has he read my dream?
He must have an unbelievable intuition, then.
What if he was the angel who
visited me in my dreams, clad differently pretending to teach me that weird
language?
That would be an additional irony.
Is he making fun of me?
Has he taught me a different language to mislead me?
Why does he not want me to get to know him?
Why does he appear exclusively to me?
Has he got any message for me?
Does he appear also to other people elsewhere?
For several days, he has been away and my questions remained postponed
and conditioned by his emergence. He may be getting ready some new surprise for
me. Actually, I have never felt afraid of what he may be preparing for me. I
just guess that he might be taking delight in making me hesitating and anxious.
I hardly leave the place where I usually see him walk by. No sign
precedes his emergence. Can he be, at this moment, here behind me or above me
or beneath me, watching me while I am blind to his presence?
I am extremely anxious to see him. If any investigation is started on
the subject, I may be accused of hallucination or folly.
Again, he passes by discreetly with new writings on his back: A newer
language.
I took refuge in my dream again to learn his new language. I played back
the last phrases that emerged on his back but the letters were joined together
to show… my name!
What is going on?
Why precisely name on his back?
My dilemma grows worse and worse. I find myself, early every morning,
waiting for him. He usually emerges at this time before I wake up at sun-rise.
However, this time, he changed
completely the ritual of his passage, walking by so very slowly…
Probably, he has understood that I will never know the secrets of his
emergence.
I followed him with my eyes. In previous times, I could not have a look
at his face because of the rapidity of his passage. Now, it is quite different.
At first, he turned his back to me as he used to do. This time, his upper part
is naked with no numbers or writings on, I never know the reason why, at that
moment, I pronounced my name.
I started calling him by my name, in my last hopeless try. Then, I saw
him turn around. In a few moments, I will have a full view of his features.
They cannot fail me. This time, I am sure that his secret will be revealed to
me…
The luminous halo surrounding his face is slowly fading away until it
disappeared completely and I saw my own
face within : I was that one passing by myself all along the way
indiscreetly, leaving no trace or shadow behind…
***********
* The
writer, Najib Kaaouachi, is
a Moroccan short-story writer, born in
*The translator, Mohamed Saïd Raïhani, is a Moroccan
translator, scholar & short-story writer, born on December 23rd 1968
in Ksar El Kébir. He published in Arabic "The Singularity Will" (A Semiotic Study on First-names) 2001, "Waiting For the Morning" (Short stories) 2003,"Thus Spoke Santa Lugar-Verde" (Short stories) 2005, "The Season Of Migration to Anywhere" (Short stories) 2006, "The Three Keys: Freedom, Dream & Love" (An anthology of Moroccan New Short Story in Three
Volumes) 2006-2007-2008, "The History of Manipulating Professional Contests in
Morocco" (Syndical manifestos in Two Volumes) 2009-2011, "Death of the Author" 2010…
He is getting ready for printing:"Beyond Writing & Reading» (testimonies), "Kais & Juliet" ( Novel) and ""When Photo
Talks" (Photo-Autobiography).
* " Me, Revealed To Myself" is the fifteenth
narrative text in the "The
Moroccan Dream", Anthology of Moroccan new
short story directed by Mohamed Saïd Raïhani.
***********
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