I had a dream last night. I was on a streetcar that was stationary at a stop due to a traffic jam. There was a bunch of kids around me in party costumes having fun. They played pranks to cheer each other up.
Stone-faced and inpatient for the delay, most commuters were uninterested in their antics.
I was standing by the door. Right by my side, there was an elderly woman. She was wearing Indian clothes in bright colors. She had the face of my late grandmother. She wanted to say something to me to remember. I told her that I’d forget about it in no time and asked her to write it down for me.
Each time she tried to write down a word in English it appeared on the paper in Arabic. She wrestled with the translation and I woke up before she could finish it. All I can remember of what she said was, “You are not what you know, but...” The rest is lost for good.