The White Mercedes
The white Mercedes Benz with a Saudi license plate was parked outside a seedy three-star hotel on Exhibition Avenue in Manama. The tinted windows would have made it impossible to see the occupants but the windows were rolled open and - in the two minutes that it took for me to drive past them - I was able to take a peek into a strange and unfamiliar world.
The man at the wheel was young - about 30 or 35 - and appeared to be enjoying a fuss his companion was making. She was slumped in her seat and instead of addressing him directly, she was looking at the road ahead and was rattling off a litany of complaints, or so it seemed. It looked like a lover's quarrel in progress and my attention was immediately directed towards what, I thought, might develop into high melodrama. But nothing of the sort happened.
The man continued to ignore the woman while his eyes began to furtively scan other cars on the road. He had a look of pride on his face as if he had accomplished something really big, and his posture gave the impression that he wanted to be noticed. It had that 'look' that seemed to say, here I am look at me. And one glance at his companion made it abundantly clear why this was so.
She was an attractive woman in a saucy kind of way. The type with lots of garish make-up and the slinkiest possible attire. The type that makes heads turn and wives a little worried. The type our parents usually warn us against. The type whose company our man was definitely enjoying.
His mind was, obviously, contemplating on what he might do with her tonight, and hence, the woman's complaints were proving ineffective because they were falling on deaf ears.
And just then I noticed her eyes.
They looked empty and lifeless. There was a blank look in those eyes instead of a fiery stare that would have seemed more appropriate. The vacant glance appeared to suggest the fuss was all play-acting, nothing serious, all make-believe. I could tell it was all part of an act. Maybe a clever little way to add a human touch to their interaction. Or most probably, a cheeky way to get more money from the man. Both options - whichever way you looked at them - clearly indicated that the two were not lovers. They might have met an hour ago, the previous night or they must have had a financial arrangement or a contract-of-sorts to meet each other whenever he drove down from Saudi.
I was unable to wait at the spot for too long, and hence, I'm unaware what eventually happened to the two of them. Did the girl finally get what she wanted? Did the man respond to all the fuss and complaints? Did the two really kiss and make up?
My guess is as good as yours, but one thing for sure... it was a very sad sight because, however much you rationalise, affection - or even acts of affection - were never meant to be a purchaseable commodity.
Never.
The man at the wheel was young - about 30 or 35 - and appeared to be enjoying a fuss his companion was making. She was slumped in her seat and instead of addressing him directly, she was looking at the road ahead and was rattling off a litany of complaints, or so it seemed. It looked like a lover's quarrel in progress and my attention was immediately directed towards what, I thought, might develop into high melodrama. But nothing of the sort happened.
The man continued to ignore the woman while his eyes began to furtively scan other cars on the road. He had a look of pride on his face as if he had accomplished something really big, and his posture gave the impression that he wanted to be noticed. It had that 'look' that seemed to say, here I am look at me. And one glance at his companion made it abundantly clear why this was so.
She was an attractive woman in a saucy kind of way. The type with lots of garish make-up and the slinkiest possible attire. The type that makes heads turn and wives a little worried. The type our parents usually warn us against. The type whose company our man was definitely enjoying.
His mind was, obviously, contemplating on what he might do with her tonight, and hence, the woman's complaints were proving ineffective because they were falling on deaf ears.
And just then I noticed her eyes.
They looked empty and lifeless. There was a blank look in those eyes instead of a fiery stare that would have seemed more appropriate. The vacant glance appeared to suggest the fuss was all play-acting, nothing serious, all make-believe. I could tell it was all part of an act. Maybe a clever little way to add a human touch to their interaction. Or most probably, a cheeky way to get more money from the man. Both options - whichever way you looked at them - clearly indicated that the two were not lovers. They might have met an hour ago, the previous night or they must have had a financial arrangement or a contract-of-sorts to meet each other whenever he drove down from Saudi.
I was unable to wait at the spot for too long, and hence, I'm unaware what eventually happened to the two of them. Did the girl finally get what she wanted? Did the man respond to all the fuss and complaints? Did the two really kiss and make up?
My guess is as good as yours, but one thing for sure... it was a very sad sight because, however much you rationalise, affection - or even acts of affection - were never meant to be a purchaseable commodity.
Never.
Comments
Can't help but agree with the conclusion that love can never be a purchaseable commodity but are there other conclusions that could possibly have been drawn about the couple in the car?