ﻗﺼﺔ ﻗﺼﻴﺮﺓ ...
ﺍﻟﻌﻨﻮﺍﻥ .............. ﺑﻘﺎﻳﺎ ﺑﻴﺖ ...........
ﺍﻧﻄﻠﻘﺖ ﺍﻟﺴﻴﺎﺭﺓ،ﻭﺗﻄﺎﻳﺮ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﻓﺮﺣﺎً ،ﺑﻌﻮﺩﺗﻲ ﻟﻤﺪﻳﻨﺔ ﺩﻣﺸﻖ،ﻟﺒﻠﺪﺗﻲ ﺯﻣﻠﻜﺎ ﺍﻟﺘﻲ ﻫﺠﺮﺗﻬﺎ ﺳﺒﻊ ﺳﻨﻴﻦٍ ﻋﻨﻮﺓً ... ﻣﻨﺬ ﺍﻧﺪﻻﻉ ﺍﻟﺤﺮﺏ ﺍﻵﺛﻤﺔ ...
ﺗﺒﺪﺩ ﻓﺮﺣﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻄﺮﻳﻖ،ﺍﻟﺬﻱ ﺗﻐﻴّﺮﺕ ﻣﻌﺎﻟﻤﻪ .... ﺗﺤﻮّﻟﺖ ﺍﻟﺨﻄﻮﻁ ﻓﻲ ﻟﻮﺣﺘﻪ ﻣﻦ ﺧﻀﺮﺍﺀ ﺟﻤﻴﻠﺔٍ،ﺗﺘﺮﺍﻗﺺ ﻭﺗﺰﺩﻫﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺠﺎﻧﺒﻴﻦ،ﻭﺃﻧﺎﺱ ﻛﺜﻴﺮﻭﻥ ﻣﻨﺘﺸﺮﻭﻥ ﻫﻨﺎ ... ﻭﻫﻨﺎﻙ .. ﺇﻟﻰ ﺧﻄﻮﻁ ﺭﻣﺎﺩﻳﺔٍ،ﻭﺃﻛﻮﺍﻡ ﺣﺠﺎﺭﺓ ﻣﺘﺮﺍﻣﻴﺔٍ ﻓﻮﻕ ﺑﻌﻀﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﺒﻌﺾ ... ﻫﺠﺮ ﺭﺍﺳﻤﻬﺎﺍﻟﻄﻴﺮ ... ﻭﺍﻟﺒﺸﺮ ...
ﺃﺣﺴﺴﺖ ﺑﻮﺟﻨﺘﺎﻱ ﺗﻐﺴﻠﻬﻤﺎ ﺩﻣﻌﺘﻴﻦ ﺳﺎﺧﻨﺘﻴﻦ ... ﺭﺑّﺖ ﺣﺴﻦُ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻇﻬﺮﻱ :" ﻻﻋﻠﻴﻚ ﻳﺎﻋﺒﻴﺮ ... ﺍﻹﻧﺴﺎﻥ ﻗﺎﺩﺭٌ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺇﻋﻤﺎﺭ ﻛﻞّ ﻣﺎﺗﻬﺪّﻡ .... ﺍﻟﻤﻬﻢ ﺍﻹﻧﺴﺎﻥ ..."
ﻧﻈﺮﺕ ﺇﻟﻴﻪ ﻧﻈﺮﺓ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﻌﺠّﺐ ﻣﻦ ﻗﻮﻟﻪ ... ﻷﻧﻨﺎ ﻟﻢ ﻧﺮَ ﺫﻟﻚ ﺍﻹﻧﺴﺎﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻃﻮﻝ ﺗﻠﻚ ﺍﻟﻄﺮﻳﻖ !!....
ﻭﺻﻠﺖ ﺍﻟﺴﻴﺎﺭﺓ ﺃﻣﺎﻡ ﺍﻟﺒﻴﺖ،ﺍﻟﺬﻱ ﺑﺎﻟﻜﺎﺩ ﺗﻌﺮّﻓﻨﺎ ﻣﻮﻗﻌﻪ !!.. ﺣﺎﻝ ﺩﻭﻥ ﺿﻴﺎﻋﻪ،ﺑﻘﺎﻳﺎ ﻣﺌﺬﻧﺔ ﺍﻟﺠﺎﻣﻊ ﺍﻟﻜﺒﻴﺮ ﺍﻟﻤﻼﺻﻖ ﻟﻪ ...
ﻟﻘﺎﺀٌ ﺣﺰﻳﻦٌ ﺑﻴﻨﻲ ﻭﺑﻴﻨﻪُ .... ﺳﻤﻌﺖُ ﺗﺄﻭﻫﺎﺕ ﺑﻴﺘﻲ ﺍﻟﺬﻱ ﺿﻤّﻨﻲ ﻭﺯﻭﺟﻲ،ﻭﺃﻭﻻﺩﻱ ﻋﺸﺮﻳﻦ ﻋﺎﻣﺎً ...
ﻓَﺮِﺡَ ﻣﻌﻨﺎ .... ﻓﺘﺮﺍﻗﺺ ﺧﺼﺮُﻩُ ﻣﻊ ﺩﻗﺎﺕ ﻗﻠﻮﺑﻨﺎ ....
ﺣَﺰِﻥَ ﻣﻌﻨﺎ ... ﻓﺎﻧﻬﻤﺮﺕْ ﺩﻣﻮﻋﻪ ﻣﻊ ﺁﻻﻣﻨﺎ ..
ﺷَﻬِﺪَﺍﻟﻔﻘﺮ ﻣﻌﻨﺎ ... ﻓﺴَﻤِﻊَ ﺃﺻﻮﺍﺕ ﺃﻣﻌﺎﺀ ﺃﻃﻔﺎﻟﻲ ﻭﻫﻢْ ﻧﺎﺋﻤﻴﻦ ﺟﻴﺎﻉ ...
ﻭﺍﺭﺗﺠﻔﺖْ ﺣﻴﻄﺎﻧُﻪ ﺑﺮﺩﺍً ﻭﻫﻢ ﻣﻠﺘﻔﻴﻦ ﺑﺤﺮﺍﻣﺎﺗﻬﻢ ﺍﻟﺼﻮﻓﻴﺔ ﺷﺘﺎﺀً ...
ﺑﻴﺘﻲ ﺍﻟﺬﻱ ﺗﻮﺟّﻊ ﻣﻌﻨﺎ ... ﻏﻀﺐ ﻣﻌﻨﺎ .... ﻭﻏﻨﻰ ﻣﻌﻨﺎ ... ﻭﺿﺤﻜﺖْ ﺃﺳﺎﺭﻳﺮﻩ ﺑﻌﺪ ﺗﺨﺮّﺝ ﺃﺑﻨﺎﺋﻲ ﻣﻦ ﺍﻟﺠﺎﻣﻌﺔ،ﻭﺗﺤﺴّﻦ ﻭﺿﻌﻨﺎ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺩﻱ ...
ﻧﺎﺩﺍﻧﻲ :" ﻛﻴﻒ ﺗﺮﻛﺘﻨﻲ؟؟ ... ﻟﻮﺗﻌﻠﻤﻴﻦ ﻣﺎﺣﻞّ ﺑﺤﺎﻟﻲ ..... ﻋﺸﺮﻳﻦ ﻋﺎﻣﺎً ﻣﺎﻓﺎﺭﻗﺘﻜﻢ،ﻛﻴﻒ ﺍﺳﺘﻄﻌﺘﻢ ﺃﻧﺘﻢ ﻓﺮﺍﻗﻲ ﺗﻠﻚ ﺍﻟﺴﻨﻴﻦ؟؟ ..."
ﺃﺧﻔﻀّﺖُ ﺭﺃﺳﻲ ﺧﺠﻠﺔً ﻣﻦ ﺑﻘﺎﻳﺎﻩ .... ﺁﻟﻤﻨﻲ ﺣﺎﻟﻪ ... ﻭﺣﺎﻟﻲ ﺍﻟﺬﻱ ﺁﻟﺖ ﺇﻟﻴﻪ ...
ﺗﺸﺮّﺩٌ .... ﻫﺠﺮﺓٌ .... ﻭﺿﻴﺎﻉ ....
.................... ﺑﻘﻠﻤﻲ ﻋﺒﻴﺮ ﻋﻴﺴﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﻏﻮﻁ
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