Short story Lina Rozbih-Journalist, Poet & Published Author.

ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ﻭ ﮐﺒﻮﺗﺮ ﺣﯿﺪﺭﯼ ﺭﻭﺯﺑﻪ ﻟﯿﻨﺎ : ﻧﻮﺷﺘﻪ

ﻫﻢ ﺑﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺍﺵ ﺩﺳﺖ ﺩﻭ ﻭ ﻣﯿﺰﺩ ﻓﺮﯾﺎﺩ ﻭ ﻣﯿﺪﺍﺩ ﺩﺳﺘﻮﺭ ﭘﺴﺮﺵ ﺑﻪ ﺍﺵ ﺧﺎﻧﻪ ﮔﻠﯽ ﺑﺎﻡ ﺑﺮ ﺑﻠﻨﺪ ﺻﺪﺍﯼ ﺑﺎ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ..." ﮐﻦ ﺑﺎﺯ ﺭﺍ ﺑﺎﻟﻬﺎﯾﺶ .. ﮐﻨﺪ ﭘﺮﻭﺍﺯ ﺗﺎ ﮐﻦ ﺭﻫﺎ ﻧﺒﺎﯾﺪ ﻗﺒﻀﻪ ﺩﺭ ﺭﺍ ﭼﯿﺰ ﻫﻤﻪ ".... ﮐﻨﺪ ﺭﻫﺎ , ﺑﻮﺩ ﺧﻮﺭﺩﻩ ﮔﺮﻩ ﺍﻭ ﻧﻔﺲ ﺑﻪ ﺍﺵ ﻧﻔﺲ ﮐﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺍﺵ ﯾﮑﺪﺍﻧﻪ "ﺗﺎﺟﺪﺍﺭ " , ﮐﻔﺘﺮﺵ ﻣﯿﺨﻮﺍﺳﺖ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ... ﻣﯿﮑﻮﺑﯿﺪ ﭘﺮ ﻭ ﺧﺎﮐﺴﺘﺮﯼ ﻫﺎﯼ ﭼﺸﻢ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﯾﮑﺒﺎﺭ ﻓﻘﻂ , ﻗﺎﭘﯿﺪ ﭘﺴﺮﺵ ﺩﺳﺖ ﺍﺯ ﺭﺍ ﮐﺒﻮﺗﺮ ﺑﻌﺪ ﻭ "ﺳﺎﺧﺖ ﻣﺤﺒﻮﺱ ﻧﺒﺎﯾﺪ ﺣﺼﺎﺭ ﺩﺭ ﯾﺎ ﻗﻔﺲ ﺩﺭ ﺭﺍ ﭼﯿﺰ ﻫﻤﻪ .. ﮐﺮﺩ ﭘﺮﻭﺍﺯ ﺑﻪ ﺍﺳﻤﺎﻥ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺩﺳﺘﻬﺎﯾﺶ ﻣﯿﺎﻥ ﺍﺯ ﺑﺮﻕ ﻣﺜﻞ ﮐﺒﻮﺗﺮ ... ﮔﺸﻮﺩ ﻭ ﮐﺮﺩ ﺑﻠﻨﺪ ﺍﺳﻤﺎﻥ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺩﺳﺘﺶ ﺩﻭ ﻭ ﮐﺮﺩ ﻧﮕﺎﻩ ﺍﺵ ﺍﻃﻠﺴﯽ ﺳﻔﯿﺪ ﻫﺎﯼ ﺑﺎ ﻭ ﺷﺪ ﺧﯿﺮﻩ ﭘﺴﺮﺵ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﻭ ﺑﺮﺩﺍﺷﺖ ﺍﺳﻤﺎﻥ ﺍﺯ ﭼﺸﻢ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ... ﺍﻣﺪ ﻓﺮﻭﺩ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ﺻﻮﺭﺕ ﺑﺮ , ﮐﻮﭼﮏ ﭘﺮ ﭼﻨﺪ , ﺑﺎﻟﻬﺎﯾﺶ ﺗﮑﺎﻥ ﺷﺪﺕ ﺍﺯ ﻭ ﺩﺭﺍﻣﺪ ﺩﺭ , ﻧﯿﺴﺖ ﺗﻮ ﺑﺎ ﺭﻭﺣﺶ ﮐﻪ ﭼﯿﺰﯼ .. ﺑﺎﺷﺪ ﻟﺤﻈﻪ ﺍﯾﻦ , ﺍﻧﺮﻭﺯ ﮐﻪ ﺑﻬﺘﺮ ﭼﻪ , ﻣﯿﺮﻭﺩ ﺭﻭﺯﯼ , ﻧﯿﺴﺖ ﺗﻮ ﺍﻥ ﺍﺯ ﮐﻪ ﭼﯿﺰﯼ ".: ﮔﻔﺖ ﻣﯿﻠﺮﺯﯾﺪ ﮐﻪ ﺭﮔﻪ ﺩﻭ ﺻﺪﺍﯼ ﺭﻫﺎﯾﺶ ﮐﻪ ﺷﺪ ﺑﻬﺘﺮ .. ﻧﻤﯿﮕﺸﺖ ﺑﺎﺯ ﺍﻭ .. ﻣﯿﮕﺮﺩﻧﺪ ﺑﺎﺯ ﺧﺎﻧﻪ ﺑﺎﻡ ﺑﻪ ﺭﻭﺯ ﻫﺮ ﺍﻧﺪ ﻣﻦ ﺑﺎ ﻫﺎ ﮐﺒﻮﺗﺮ ﺍﯾﻦ ﺑﺒﯿﻦ ... ﺑﺮﻭﺩ ﮐﺮﺩﻡ ﺭﻫﺎﯾﺶ ... ﺑﻮﺩ ﻧﺨﻮﺍﻫﺪ ﺗﻮ ﺑﺎ ﻧﯿﺰ ﻗﻔﺲ ﮐﻪ ﻣﯿﺪﺍﻧﺴﺖ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ... ﻧﺸﺴﺘﻨﺪ ﺩﯾﮕﺮﺍﻥ ﻫﺎﯼ ﺑﺎﻡ ﻭﺑﺮ ﻭ ﮔﻔﺘﻨﺪ ﺗﺮﮎ ﺭﺍ ﺍﻭ ﺍﻧﺪﮎ ﺍﻧﺪﮎ ﻫﻤﻪ ﮐﺒﻮﺗﺮﺍﻧﺶ , ﺷﺪ ﺑﯿﻤﺎﺭ ﻭ ﭘﯿﺮ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ , ﮔﺬﺷﺖ ﺳﺎﻟﻬﺎ ..."!! ﮐﺮﺩﻡ ﺷﺎﺧﻪ ﮐﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺳﯿﺐ ﺩﺭﺧﺖ ﺗﺎ ﻣﯿﮕﻮﺷﺪ ﺑﺮﺍﯾﺶ ﺍﺵ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ﺭﻭﺯ ﻫﺮ ﺍﻧﺮﺍ ﮐﻪ ﺑﻮﺩ ﯾﯽ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ , ﺭﺧﺘﺨﻮﺍﺑﺶ ﺑﺮﺍﺑﺮ ﺩﺭ .. ﻣﯿﮑﻨﺪ ﺳﭙﺮﯼ ﺭﺍ ﻋﻤﺮﺵ ﺍﺧﺮ ﻫﺎﯼ ﺭﻭﺯ ﺳﺮﺩ ﻧﯿﻤﻪ ﺭﻭﺯ ﯾﮏ .. ﻧﺸﻮﺩ ﺩﻟﺘﻨﮓ ﻭ ﮐﻨﺪ ﻧﻈﺎﺭﻩ , ﻣﯿﺨﻮﺍﻧﺪ ﺍﻭﺍﺯ ﻭ ﻣﯿﻨﺸﺴﺖ ﺍﻥ ﺑﺮ ﺻﺪﺍ ﺧﻮﺵ ﯾﯽ ﭘﺮﻧﺪﻩ ﺭﻭﺯ ﻫﺮ ﻭ ﺑﻮﺩ ﺳﺮﮐﺸﯿﺪﻩ ﺍﺳﻤﺎﻥ ﺗﺎ ﻫﺎﯾﺶ ﺩﻟﺶ ﻭ ﺑﻮﺩ ﺑﺪ ﺣﺎﻟﺶ , ﻣﯿﺴﻮﺧﺖ ﺗﺐ ﺍﺗﺶ ﺩﺭ ﺗﻨﺶ ﻭ ﺑﻮﺩ ﺷﺪﻩ ﺳﻨﮕﯿﻦ ﻫﺎﯾﺶ ﻧﻔﺲ , ﻣﯿﮑﺮﺩ ﺣﺲ ﺭﺍ ﺧﻮﺩ ﻗﺒﻞ ﻫﺎﯼ ﺭﻭﺯ ﺍﺯ ﺗﺮ ﻣﺮﯾﺾ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ , ﺧﺰﺍﻧﯽ ﻭ ﮔﺸﻮﺩ ﺍﺭﺍﻡ ﺍﻧﺮﺍ ﻭ ﺑﺮﺩ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﻗﻔﻞ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺩﺳﺘﺶ ﺗﺮﺩﯾﺪ ﺑﺎ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ... ﮐﻨﺪ ﺗﺎﺯﻩ ﻧﻔﺲ ﺗﺎ ﺑﮕﺸﺎﯾﺪ ﺑﺮﺍﯾﺶ ﺭﺍ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﺗﺎ ﺧﻮﺍﺳﺖ ﺍﺵ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ﺍﺯ , ﮔﺮﻓﺘﻪ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ﻭ , ﺷﺪ ﺧﯿﺮﻩ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﺑﻪ ﻭ ﻧﮕﻔﺖ ﭼﯿﺰﯼ ﻭ ﮐﺮﺩ ﻧﮕﺎﻫﯽ ﺍﺵ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ "! ﺳﺮﺩﺳﺖ ﻫﻮﺍ ﺑﺎﺑﺎ ".. ﺍﻭﺭﺩ ﻫﺠﻮﻡ ﺍﺗﺎﻕ ﺩﺭﻭﻥ ﺑﻪ ﺳﺮﺩ ﻫﻮﺍﯼ ﺑﻌﺪ ﻭ ..." ﮐﻦ ﺑﺎﺯ .. ﻧﺒﻨﺪ ... ﻧﺒﻨﺪ " ﮐﻪ ﺯﺩ ﻓﺮﯾﺎﺩ ﻧﺎﮔﻬﺎﻥ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ﺑﻮﺩ ﺷﺪﻩ ﻣﺴﺪﻭﺩ ﮐﺎﻣﻼ ﺗﻘﺮﯾﺒﺎ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﮐﻪ ﻭﻗﺘﯽ ﺩﺭﺳﺖ ﻭﻟﯽ ﺷﺪ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﺑﺴﺘﻦ ﻣﺼﺮﻭﻑ ﺷﺪﻩ ﻣﺴﺦ ﻭ ﻣﺤﻮ ﺍﻧﮕﺎﺭ ﮐﻪ ﮐﺮﺩ ﻧﮕﺎﻩ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﻭ ﮔﺸﻮﺩ ﺭﺍ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﺳﺮﯾﻊ ﻫﺮﺍﺱ ﺑﺎ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ .. ﺩﺭﺧﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺯﺩ ﺯﻝ ﻭ ﺷﺪ ﺧﯿﺰ ﻧﯿﻤﻪ ﺟﺎﯾﺶ ﺍﺯ ﻧﮕﺎﻩ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﻭ ﻧﺸﺴﺘﻪ , ﺗﺎﺟﺪﺍﺭ , ﺑﻮﺩ ﻣﺎﻧﺪﻩ ﺑﺎﻗﯽ ﺍﻥ ﺑﺮ ﺯﺭﺩ ﺑﺮﮒ ﺩﻭ ﻓﻘﻂ ﮐﻪ ﺳﯿﺐ ﺩﺭﺧﺖ ﺷﺎﺧﻪ ﺗﺮﯾﻦ ﻃﻮﯾﻞ ﺑﺮ ﺩﺭﺳﺖ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ﺑﺮﺍﺑﺮ ﺩﺭ ... ﺍﺳﺖ ﺯﯾﺮ ﺩﺭ ﺧﺰﺍﻥ ﻫﺎ ﺑﺮﮒ ﻣﺜﻞ ﮐﻪ ﻫﺎﯼ ﻧﻔﺲ ﺑﺎ ﺑﻌﺪ ﻭ ﺑﺮﺳﺎﻧﺪ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﻧﺰﺩﯾﮏ ﺑﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺧﻮﺩ ﺗﺎ ﮐﻨﺪ ﮐﻤﮏ ﺭﺍ ﺍﻭ ﺗﺎ ﮐﺮﺩ ﺍﺷﺎﺭﻩ ﺍﺵ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ... ﻣﯿﮑﺮﺩ ﺍﺯ ﮐﻪ ﺑﻮﺩ ﺍﯾﺴﺘﺎﺩﻩ ﺍﺵ ﺗﺎﺟﺪﺍﺭ ﺑﺎ ﺭﻭ ﺩﺭ ﺭﻭ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ , ﻧﻔﺲ ﺗﻨﮕﯽ ﻭ ﺗﺐ ﺍﺗﺶ ﺩﺭ , ﭘﺘﻮ ﺩﺭ ﭘﯿﭽﯿﺪﻩ ,.. ﺭﺳﺎﻧﯿﺪ ﭘﻨﺠﺮﻩ ﮐﻨﺎﺭ ﺑﻪ ﺭﺍ ﺧﻮﺩ , ﻣﯿﮑﺮﺩ ﺧﺶ ﺧﺶ , ﭘﺎ ﻧﺸﺎﻥ ﺍﺵ ﻧﻮﺍﺳﻪ ﺑﻪ ﺭﺍ ﮐﺒﻮﺗﺮ , ﻟﺮﺯﺍﻥ ﺩﺳﺘﯽ ﺑﺎ ﻟﺒﺨﻨﺪ ﺑﺎ ﻭ ﻣﯿﺰﺩ ﺑﺮﻕ ﺣﺎﺟﯽ ﻫﺎﯼ ﭼﺸﻢ ... ﻣﯿﮑﺮﺩ ﺗﻤﯿﺰ ﺭﺍ ﭘﺮﻫﺎﯾﺶ ﻭ ﻣﯿﮑﺮﺩ ﻧﮕﺎﻩ ﺍﻭ ﺳﻤﺖ ﺑﻪ ﺩﺭﺧﺖ ﺷﺎﺧﻪ ﺑﻮﺩﯼ ﻣﻦ ﺍﺯ ﻭﻟﯽ , ﻧﺒﻮﺩﯼ ﻣﻦ ﺑﺎ ﺗﻮ .. ﻧﺒﻮﺩﻧﺪ ﻣﻦ ﺍﺯ ﻭﻟﯽ ﺑﻮﺩﻧﺪ ﻣﻦ ﺑﺎ ﺍﻧﻬﺎ ...!! ﺍﻣﺪﯼ ﺗﻮ ﻭﻟﯽ ﺭﻓﺘﻨﺪ ﻫﻤﻪ ... ﺭﻓﺘﻨﺪ ﻫﻤﻪ ﻭﻗﺘﯽ .. ﺍﻣﺪﯼ ﺗﻮ .. ﺗﺎﺟﺪﺍﺭ " .. ﻣﯿﺪﺍﺩ "

Leave it to fly.. Spread its wings "... Haji was loudly ordering his son on the roof of his house and shouting and banging his hands together... Haji wanted his pigeon, "Crowned ′′ Let him go..." Everything should not be taken over.. Everything should not be locked in a cage or in a fence ′′ and then he snatched the pigeon from his son, just once. He looked at his grey eyes and white Atlantic feathers and raised his two hands towards the sky and it opened... A pigeon flies like lightning through his hands towards the sky and from the intensity of his wings, a few small feathers landed on Haji's face... Haji took his eyes from the sky and stared at his son and said with a hybrid voice that was trembling.. "What is not yours will go one day, how better that today is this moment, what is not with you, will not be with you in a cage... I let him go... Look, these pigeons are with me, they return to the roof of the house every day. He would not return.. It's better that he left. I did." Years passed, Haji became old and sick, his pigeons left him a little bit and sat on the roofs of others. Haji knew that he is spending the last days of his life. Before his bed, there was a window, where his grandson calls him every day to see the apple tree whose branches were rebellious to the sky and every day a bird sits on it and sings a voice, and doesn't miss him. A half-cold day was a sicker Haji from the previous days. His breaths had become heavy and his tension was burning in the fire of his fever, he was in a bad mood and felt sad, he asked his grandson to open the window for him to refresh his breath. His grandson hesitated to give his hand. He took the window to the lock and opened it calmly as the cold weather attacked the room. "Dad, it's cold!" Haji looked at his grandson and said nothing and stared at the window, and the grandson was busy closing the window, but just when the window was almost completely blocked, Haji suddenly shouted, "Don't close... Open it." He got half up and stared at the tree. The grandson quickly opened the window with fear. He looked at Haji as if he had faded and faded. In front of Haji, right on the longest branch of the apple tree, which had only two yellow leaves left, "Crowned," was sat looking towards the window. Haji towards his grandson pointed out to help to bring him to the window and then with his breaths that was rustling like leaves under the feet of fall, he drove himself towards the window wrapped in a blanket. With the shortness of breath, Haji was standing face to face with his "Crown," looking at him from the branch of a tree and cleaning his feathers... Haji's eyes were lightened up with a smile and with a shaking hand, he showed the pigeon to his grandson.. ′′ Tajdar.. You came. When everyone left... Everyone left but you came!!... They were with me but they were not from me.. You were not with me, but you were from me!!.."