A dagger- a belt elegantly placed on the mid-waists of young boys and men. Roaming around. Twisting and scurrying in the realms of everyday. A quick hello. A hug. Afternoon tea. All in the presence of a dagger.
Did you know daggers can be bejeweled? With gold, silver, and much more accessories I am not privy to.
Traditionally, a dagger is used as a weapon. A weapon, often times concealed under clothes.
Yet, in Yemen, daggers are in full vision. Not any dagger, a Janbiya : A Yemeni dagger.
During my formative years, my mother a foreigner of sorts, took to the images of Janbiyas.
Our curtains, decorated with Junbiyas/daggers, held by a ribbon (I think, I am not decorative connoisseur by any means) .
Our shelves, also infested with displays of the mighty Yemeni dagger.
A Janbiya, is so deadly -yet decorative. A janbiya, has never hurt me. A janbiya, has never lied to me.
Yet, a picturesque villa has. There, I dreamt of black stains on my Jedo's walls. Yet, I was stuck in a villa-gated prison with colors, guards, and workers encircling me .
My villa is green, my clothes are pink, and the trees are greener.
At school, I do not play. I paint black snakes . In my mind, they hiss at my villa. Their slivery tongues, lick every inch of the villa until it crumbles like sand.
See, I was stuck in the villa while my Jedo was dying abroad. Why didn't anybody warn me? Your weapon of choice: "he is on a business trip".
Why do we lie? To protect. Your protection was as infutile and defenseless as the daggers placed on our curtains. You lied and lied to to me, until he* lyed* no more.