I was being interviewed by a considerate journalist
(actually, chatting to a fellow human describes the situation best)
She asked how filming “Ali’s Wedding” was goin’
(and whether playing the lead had been a shoe-in)
I leaned Pisa-tower-like against a tree
(to get some shade for free)
And began answering bluntly
(as in blunt as a knife and not very spruntly)
She then cut to the chase:
(yup, posing questions about my religion and race)
😒
And that was cool.
(I mean, I was a dealt a card upon my birth, but it didn’t make me a ghoul)
‘Why did you want to share an intimate part of your life with complete strangers?’
Confused, I replied: ‘What are the dangers?’
‘Some people, like victims of terror, might find your work offensive…’
I ignited internally, a leaf away from getting defensive
If having a simple dialogue with the world was now interpreted as retort
I could see why our leaders choose Ban & Bomb Them as their first resort
Helana Sawires as Dianne and Osamah Sami as Ali in Ali’s Wedding; photo by Ben Timony
The beauty and sadness was, I didn’t find her a stranger, at all
I thought for about the length of my intestine (in seconds) and listened to my gut
I pointed to the ageing, relaxed flora:
‘This tree is a complete stranger, yet it caresses us with its shade…’
(admittedly, halfway through my sentence I witnessed her mind fade)
She closed her black folder, thanked me courteously and left.
(NB: her publication’s inclination was to the Right)
I stood leaning for another moment, breathing in a folder’s size worth of oxygen the tree had just exhaled.
