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Zubida has disappeared .She is my love, my friend and my dearest wife.Zubida always shows me her fidelity even if I am sometimes miserable. Besides, her tenderness is so soft and comforting that it really gives me the sense of eternity .This explains why I sometimes go to the sea just to expel joy and complete happiness that I am feeling with Zubida .However, the thing that she has never wanted to let down is her intimate wish ,which is to become a movie star in her own country. I just could not continue an argument with her about this fact, because her wish is so sacred, besides I love and respect her too much. One of my blissful moments is to see her singing Bollywood romantic movie songs, bought by her as compact pirated cds somewhere in a popular souk in Rabat. She sung the duo Hindi famous singers Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammad Rafi, with which I reckon, while Zubida is singing, my neighbours become silent and careful than spend their time watching some Saudi porn channels.
Aziz, the chief inspector of our police district, is a short man whose face is photogenic holding a large Turkish moustache and wide mouth. I will not forget his face nor his hoarse voice which reveal a typical authority man that my country used to have in the seventies .Does your wife have an affair with anybody? Aziz stars at me with great attention and invites me to sit down on a wooden chair placed just next to his assistant whose rolling eyes never let me escape .His assistant is preparing to write on a classical type writer pointing towards me his finger that he would be using to write with. I also can not erase from my vision that the room which I was interrogated, was unclean and dark and can only contain one person, but we were in fact three people there. I not only feel terrible about the room but I feel disgusted by the stupid question that Aziz asked me about my wife. I looked at Aziz with hate and insolence, but, all of sudden, I feel more careful especially when I noticed that Aziz was serious about the question. I immediately change my mind and begin to accept this reality. Aziz belongs to the police and it is obvious he wants to arrive to a conclusion whether Zubida is evidently having an affair with somebody or may be I am myself involved into something dirty.
Aziz began to listen to my story which he finds intriguing. My family brought to me Zubida in a rightful caravan, a sort of royal chariot accompanied by one thousand and nights musicals and people enchanting my winning a beautiful bribe .The Chariot was decorated with magnificent ribbons and overloaded gifts containing some sacred wedding items meant to chase evil like dates, sweets and sugar . When I first saw Zubida riding that beautiful chariot surrounded by people singing and praising her, I thought I would get married with a princess coming right deep from Saharan dunes. I fell in love just they do when lovers meet at the first time and that something happens just like the French word say ‘ le coup de foudre “
Allal El Alaoui
