A Walk with Bregović and Kusturica - "Ederlezi" Goran Bregović and Emir Kusturica (Katharina Bosnjak)

 

I'm out of breath. The beautiful big mosque with golden and blue details lights up the dark night with its surrounding light chains. It takes my breath away. Why can't I enter and tell all my worries? My soul is heavy. I'm out of breath.

An old, slow car passes me on the main street. The monotonous sound becomes louder than my thoughts. Even though it is slow, it causes the plastic bags hanging out of the trash container to vibrate, reminding me of the idiophones played at weddings, where people dance until they're out of breath. Just like me now, because of the released carbon dioxide of the car.

My thoughts and worries get louder in my head, louder than the sound of the car being more and more swallowed by the darkness of the night. I think of my sister. At her wedding, she wore the shiniest golden bracelets and necklaces surrounded by 1001 people, yet she smiled only at me. We share joy just like sadness. Together. Our bond is breathtaking.

We dance together. We sing together.  We cry together. We win together. Step by step. We overtone male opinions saying we cannot do things. We are above them. They are below us.

Now I see another mosque on the parallel street. A round blue roof and white walls. It reminds me, that I need to forgive. I need to forgive myself for having hate in my heart, I need to forgive my sister for sharing that hate and I need to forgive men for projecting hate.

Together we are stronger. We can overcome pain and we can share celebrations. We can forgive and we can be forgiven. It makes us stronger, and we can move forward as a community. Please forgive me.

I need a break from my thoughts. I see my shadow in front of me, moving elegantly and slowly to the right. I feel like I am not alone. But did she hear my thoughts? Would she forgive? Wait, I wanted a break. I hear someone behind me. Footsteps getting louder. I am not alone. A man is walking behind me, smelling like he showered in Kolonya. The smell reminds me of hospitality, family gatherings, and warmth. My heart is full of joy. He passes me. The air behind him gets replaced with Kolonya. I need to hold my breath. I cannot breathe.

Again, I cannot breathe. How long can I hold my breath? Each time I try to open it Kolonya fills up my mouth. How can such a loved smell become so suffocating? Was my sister out of breath when she opened the bottle of Kolonya each time a guest arrived at her wedding? She probably did. We share everything.

This man seems to be egoistic. However, I forgive this man. I need to forgive. I hope he forgives my short hatred towards him as well. Only forgiveness makes us stronger and louder. It moves us forward step by step.

Everyone is gifted with strength and mind, sometimes we don't share the same opinions, but we need to forgive.

I arrive at my home; my thoughts fade away.