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 Re-turn
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i "Re-turn…"i
I am back in London, I say to my friends, and quickly add: "Isn’t it strange that I now say: I'm Back…?" i
For at least three years since my first arrival in London in August 1992, I had all the classic dreams in my sleep: going back home and reclaiming my place on earth, my share of sand and dust, and my carefree walk, undisturbed or tainted by the most painful experience the stranger would ever feel…iself-consciousness: i
Now, twelve years on, I do not go back to Khartoum as I always wished, I do not return to my own home city… I visit Khartoum, a tourist of my own memories… I do not return anymore… i
travelling south, I've lost one word… going north, I gained it back!! i
I read the word
I think: i
i "Return": a strange concept, and the letter of it on paper is puzzling: i
the "re" has a mysterious sense of a cycle, of going back, of a homecoming. Meanwhile, "turn" is feverishly sitting there, awaiting my reading eye… i
the "u" and "n" exchanging accusations, insults and blames… (who to blame?!) i
And the whole word keeps turning around itself, yet taking me nowhere…i
I return to London
but I go to Khartoum… I do not go back to it anymore… i
I return and re-turn and re-turn: I'm caught in thecycle… i
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farda
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