It must be Love

It must be Love

By: Abraham Daljang Maker

It was a small gathering, our eyes met; that tender and innocent look made me smile a little in order to see the response. Eyes lighted up and smiled back with rather fearful face and as white as snow, those teeth and beautiful eyes made me feel confused.

In a different world of love

My heart raced and I felt this terrible pounding in my heart. As if my ribcage would blow off, I could feel the force against my ribs and the sound of heart beat was unbearable. Buh! Bum! Bum! Bum… was the sound I would hear as my heart either danced or drumming its own music. There was this hot vaporization coming out of my head, I felt as if my brain would be exploding any time. Something like volcanic magma would flow out, and I kept touching my head thinking that I would touch the lava flowing out. Given a chance, to iron your clothes with my head, you would do it with a lot of ease because my coconut structure was as hot as a coal. I would not tell you my names if you had asked me at that moment because I totally forget my names. I was just standing listening to these people who were chattering with their friends, in fact I was not listening but I was hearing them speaking but I could not even pick a word because I was in my own world, I felt as if I had no legs, the two legs were like one big pole impaled into my abdomen. I tried to stand straight but I could not, I almost lost the balance and I had to squad.  

The Dude (God) took His time

 The creator must have been taking his own time in moulding this wonderful being. I guess He was not doing His work after lunch for He would have been drowsy and mess some parts. Perhaps, it was not also towards lunch for He would be doing the work on hurry and place a wrong button at a wrong angle. But I infer that this dude (God) must have been moulding this being after having taken a breakfast, maybe be He was doing His work with other two helpers that is to say, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit and probably there was no much conversation in the process for this would lead to the famous dictum of “too many cooks spoil the broth”. Created for a purpose, I would say and the purpose might be this very incident of making me dizzy even without having taken a liquor.

Maybe a Messenger of Love.

The whole episode ended with my head cooling down and thank be to God that there was no volcanic eruption that would sent the entire neighbourhood into volcanic designated zone. Heartbeat stopped and I could now listen to what people were saying. I walk bristly and stretched out my hand and said “hey, I am Abraham Daljang, and you?” she extended her dainty hand and held mine, rolled her innocent eyes timidly and said, “Hey Abraham, my name is Angel Athiei. Of course it means the same thing, the former is an English word and the Latter is a Dinka word but all mean one thing and that is the messenger of God. No doubt she is called Angel because all her features portray the creator’s messenger. Maybe sent to tell the message of Love, but to who? was the question that needs an answer. I felt like not letting her hand go but she defensively withdrew her hand back and smile.  The food was served, I ate involuntarily and I didn’t even know whether I was swallowing the whole lump of food without masticating it or I was chewing it and reduce to saliva level, but all the same; I finished the food.

A BIG Coward!

As the occasion was coming to an end, I was wondering if I could go and tell her straight away that she caught my eyes. I stood up and took two steps, I heard this voice in me saying, “Stop!” I halted as if I saw snake in front of me. I was scratching the back of my head like a little child that wants to ask for food with the fear of being turn down.  The debate was going on in my head, go! Stop! Go! stop! Go! stop… There was this sound again which said “A faint heart never wins a fair lady”. Gosh! My literature teacher in high school back in 2007-2008 who used to brag about his plump and brown wife would often tell us this. Despite being short and a tinny man whom you would mistook to be a student, he married this stout and brown woman who bore him two boys who look exactly like their father, small and tinny. But the man told us the real truth, his big heart won him a fair stout and brown lady of course. But the "beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder," his queen would not be my choice of course. But this very queen right in front of my nose is the real beauty, the one that would make you strengthen your faint heart in order to win her. I took another step ahead and another voice asked me “what if she refused?” I finally gave up and walked back to my seat. I watched her going and I longed to see her again, not sure if such a chance would surface again.

It must have been Love, but it’s not over yet