Begging for Love

Begging for love

Abandoned by unknown parents, Billal, a young beggar in Méknes city sat leaning against a mosque in hope to gain plenty of money to feed himself. Day after day and this turned to be his sole job and livelihood.

Though his stomach was usually full, Billal still felt a hungry stomach somewhere inside his body. Such suspicious hunger often provoked him to begin recalling the story of his old but lasting destitution. Yet, all that he could recall was an enormous mixture of noise, ghosts, and foggy images about a father and a mother, quarrelling. “What’s my sin to be thrown out here?” complained Billal.

That question which he asked himself dissolved Billal into tears. The later had digged two parallel rivers of misery along his round cheeks, over which some fresh scars spread to stand for al sorts of hardship and deprivation. He had no where to live in and no one to live with. “He is a branch of a broken tree thrown off into no where” said the old men sitting side by side with their backs against the wall of the mosque.

One Friday, Billal went out as usual to gain his lunch and dinner. A boy like him was born not to live, but to struggle for survival. He walked to the mosque with his dress full of spots and dirt. When he reached the place, he sat beside the door with his arms around his legs. Half an hour after the Imam finished the prayer, the boy took off his hat, hold it in his right hand and spread his arm straight to the worshipers coming out from the mosque. He couldn’t utter a word. However, his little miserable face was enough to tear people’s eyes and move their hearts and pockets. Though the boy came back with his hat full of coins, he still couldn’t feel happy. A stomach somewhere in his body still and urgently calls for nurture- but not any nurture.

On the road to Sidi Bouzkri where he would spend the night, Billal’s attention was caught by a pretty girl standing next to Zitoun High School. Suddenly, He felt as if a beam of light leaked into his heart and turned into a warm and wide smile on his face. He couldn’t resist it, or perhaps he didn’t wish so, for it is hope that makes one feel ok. “The hunger of heart is worse than the hunger of stomach” Billal realised. Since then, Billal continued to go there in so much he learnt the girl’s timetable by heart.

One Saturday, Billal sat in front of the school door, waiting for the girl. At twelve o’clock the bell rang, and the students started leaving. Billal decided to talk to her no matter what it might cost him. “But what would I tell her?” thought Billal. Before he decided on what to say and how to say it, Billal, surprised by the girl’s prettiness, moved back the girl in hope to talk to her. While on the road, the girl felt she was being chased. “Why’re you chasing me?” asked the girl. “What’s your name?” said Billal. “What for?” replied she. “I just want to know” said he. “I’m Hanan. Any more question?” said Hanan angrily. At this moment, Billal stuck speechlessly to his place with his heart fallen apart. When she saw tears fllowing down his cheeks, Hanan took out a white handkerchief and started to clear up the tears and scrabs in his egg-like face. Fortunately, this action eased Billal and saved him from sure death. “I’m sorry, my brother. I was just joking”, “Come with me!” said hanan sympathetically.

Together on the road, Hanan hold Billal’s dry hand and drove him home. As a way to ensure he wasn’t a bit hurt of the way she treated him, Hanan added: “I didn’t know you’re so sensitive, brother. Please forget about it!”

When they arrived at home, Hanan rushed into her house and, cheerfully, brought a sack containing some fruits and vegetables, three loaves of bread, and some sugar. “Take!” said she. Surprisingly, Billal’s eyes began tearing again. “What’s up?!”, “Why are you weeping?!” Hanan wondered. “I’m here wishing to feed my heart, not my stomach” said Billal hopelessly and scrammed in a wink.