Fayruz on Sundays

I remember Sundays . Sunday mornings were linked to Fayruz - the singer. Something about Sundays and Fayruz . Evenings were reserved for the occasional Um Kulthum but Sunday mornings were definitely a hommage to Fayruz . A turkish coffee perfumed with cardamom , sitting on the balcony , listening to her majestic voice . Songs of love and longings, of defiance and irony .
This sunday, I could not get myself to go to the balcony . I could not listen to Fayruz . I stared at the walls and sipped my coffee silently . The silence was almost embarassing . It was a bloody sunday . Sunday bloody sunday ...

Comments

Anonymous said…
Brilliant again !

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