Published Book - The Labyrinth of Rooms: An Architectural Allegory

I recently published a book with the publisher ORO Editions. You can purchase the book from the publisher's website, Amazon.com, and other places where fine books are sold. Here is a short description of the book: 

The Labyrinth of Rooms is a story about how the shape of architecture can change the way we think, and how the shape of our thoughts can change the way we see architecture. Stated otherwise, the story conceives of the human life as a series of settings that stage the coevolution of mental space and physical space.

Human, the story’s protagonist, can be any one of us, and their journey from the first room to the last room is the journey of a lifetime: it has its ups and downs, moments of clarity and moments of confusion, but overall it bends toward greater knowledge and wisdom.  

Product photos taken by: @architectureinmind

The Story of the Man Who Saw Red

At the age of forty, after spending his youth in search of that indescribable something, he saw Red. It was a quiet day, and he was strolling around the pasture besides his cottage. As his feet followed the path they had travelled countless times, his mind was deep in contemplation. He considered his life and wondered what that something he was missing could be. Then, suddenly, he noticed Red. It seemed to stand just beyond the horizon, as if a five-minute walk to the top of a nearby hill would reveal its base. Instantly, more than in any other time in his life, he was sure: this Red is what he was searching for all along. 

As he walked back to his cottage, his smile widened uncontrollably. He was so happy that he even let out a burst of laughter. The sound startled him, for he hadn’t heard himself laugh for so long, perhaps years. Once he was inside, he threw all he needed in a bundle and strung it around his shoulder. He stepped out the door, locked it, and hid the key behind a loose brick. Turning to face Red, he took a deep breath, a long refreshing breath, a breath full of promise and excitement and fantastical possibilities. Then he started walking. 

This is how his journey started, and it lasted for many months, surely over a year, and maybe two. He walked and walked and saw more than he could describe with words. The world was much bigger than he thought, and it was filled with glorious landscapes and marvelous cities and things stranger than the strangest stories he had heard. He also met the sort of people that never visited the peaceful corner of the Earth where his cottage was. He met devious thieves and exalted scholars and hilarious clowns and fearsome soldiers and many much more. Probably most extraordinary among these were the flying ghosts and stomping giants and—though he barely talked with anyone he met, he did exchange some words with a couple of—talking animals. 

All this, he accepted as he saw it, without looking for an explanation or regretting his prior ignorance of its existence. Only one thing occupied his mind throughout the journey: the distance separating him from Red. For no matter how many days he walked, and how many mountains he climbed, and how many lands he crossed, that distance remained exactly the same. Red never came any closer or moved further away. Red stayed just beyond the horizon, and so towards that horizon he continued walking. 

One afternoon, having spent the entire morning happily strolling across a beautiful pasture, he remembered his cottage in several vivid flashes. Perhaps the charming character of this pasture resembled that of the pasture besides his cottage, and so it triggered his memory. What matters is that this remembrance made him feel that he was missing something, and importantly, that something wasn’t Red. He missed the comfort of his bed, the view from his window, the smell of his tea, and other such things that tingled his senses. 

A few hours later, he sat to have dinner and watch the sunset, his back resting on the trunk of an apple tree. It so happened that the white disk of the setting sun dipped behind Red, making its edges explode in yellow splashes and orange flames. Also, it resulted in Red casting a shadow on the pasture, one that started small and far away, but quickly grew and ran across the landscape to cover him, the tree, and eventually the entire world. He thought that—in a way—he had just touched something of Red, though only its shadow and not itself. He wondered what this could mean, but couldn’t figure it out. 

He chose a small grassy mound to sleep on. Lying on his back, he stared at the stars for a long time, and that is when he had an epiphany: though he did not reach Red, and probably never will, it was this extraordinary journey that he truly sought. The journey towards Red had already made him happy. For the past few weeks, what inspired him most was not the possibility of reaching Red, but those amazing sights and fascinating creatures that he met along the way. In a word, he felt content. 

When he did fall asleep, he dreamed of a sunset. It was the same one that he just watched, with one difference: the sun dipped in front of Red, not behind it. 

The sunrise woke him, but before he even opened his eyes, he knew what he wanted to do. He threw his things in a bundle, strung it around his shoulder, and started walking. But instead of walking towards Red, he made sure it was exactly behind him. He did this for days and weeks and months. During that time, he only looked behind him when he wanted to make sure he was going in the right direction; otherwise, he avoided looking at Red. 

One day, he looked back to check his course and Red wasn’t there. He stopped to make sure his eyes hadn’t tricked him. He scanned the horizon all around him, inspecting every hill and tree, but couldn’t find a trace of Red. Despite this, he continued his walk, confident he was on the right path. In the next several weeks, Red appeared and disappeared at irregular times and for unpredictable periods, gradually becoming less present. Eventually, Red only appeared one or two days a week, for only a few minutes, and usually when he was about to make a wrong turn. 

After he had walked the same number of days that it took him to reach that apple tree, he found himself in front of his cottage. He pulled the key from behind the loose brick, unlocked the door, walked in, and sighed with relief. He was no longer searching for a something indescribable. Instead, he knew exactly what he had wanted all along: a full life. 

As he lay in bed that night, he smiled with all his heart. For a while, he was too happy to fall asleep, and delighted in recalling his favorite moments from his adventure. But his tired body slowly seduced his eyelids to surrender, though a last thought did spark his imagination before he finally fell asleep: what will tomorrow bring him from beyond the horizon? 

5. Afterword—On Utopia and Dystopia

This is part five of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.

Each of the four stories in parts 1-4 explore a project in Abu Dhabi that is utopian in one main way. The stories start with real places, real plans, and real architecture, but then turn up the—already existing—utopian drive to a maximum. What results is both utterly ridiculous and—paradoxically—a reasonable extrapolation of the radical premises upon which these real projects were based. The ‘natural’ conclusions of unnatural circumstances are, by definition, unnatural.

This is how the four projects are utopian: Saadiyat tries to be the epicenter of art and culture. The Sheikh Zayed Mosque wants to be the ultimate house of god. Masdar pushes sustainable urbanism to the end of what current technology allows. The Emirates Palace flaunts the utmost luxury money can buy. One might here ask: does this mean that any ambitious and daring project is automatically utopian? No, because ‘utopian’ here means something more specific. These four projects are utopian because they don’t just try to excel in comparison to other projects with similar programs, but rather attempt to be the biggest, the most, and the best—to be ultimate. Also, these projects are not gradual developments or organic growths of their contexts; instead, they appear suddenly and fully formed.

4. Emirates Palace Hotel—We’re Exclusively Inclusive

This is part four of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.

All ten of them woke up around 5:30 am. They left their shared bedroom and walked down the corridor with the other men from the other rooms.

They were all walking towards the shared bathrooms. In the morning, there is always a line outside the bathrooms. On this day, the line was longer than usual because two stalls were out of order. Once done, they all walked back to their rooms. They changed into their wrinkled uniforms. Some had something to eat, but most did not.

Outside the labor camp building, they joined hundreds of other expat workers in their daily march towards the buses. There were always lines outside the buses too. On a hot day like this one, the wait quickly became tiring and frustrating. Boarding did not start until the company’s supervisors gave their approval.

This morning, the supervisors looked more stressed and disorganized than usual. They ran around and pointed at their clipboards and argued. Finally, they selected 35 workers and sent them to a special bus at the far end of the line of buses. This bus looked different from the buses they usually took. It was larger and cleaner.

3. Masdar City—Ready for the 22nd Century

This is part three of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.

It took a couple of years of operation for Masdar City’s elected board of directors to realize that their hopes for a carbon-neutral and zero-waste city were unreachable. That is, unless some drastic steps were taken. The residents of Masdar, despite all the behavior correction workshops they were forced to attend, displayed a shocking amount of irresponsibility. Electricity and water consumption were far above the city’s benchmarks, litter was too often seen on the streets, and some of the new buildings with high-tech facades were even vandalized. No one could explain the residents’ perverse carelessness.

The final line was crossed when the city woke up to find that dozens of walls had been sprayed with graffiti the night before. Each wall was defaced with a different short statement. It was obvious that this was a coordinated effort, later to be condemned as an act of “verbal terrorism.” To generalize, we can say that the graffitied statements were all confessions expressing bottled-up guilt from failing to live up to the city’s sustainability goals. They included: “I keep the AC on year-round,” “I take long showers,” “I sometimes pick flowers from street planters,” “I dropped a plastic wrapper once and didn’t pick it up,” “I throw all my trash in the recycle bin,” and so on.

Most Masdarians thought the comments were funny and identified with their rebellious sentiment. This was the result of their deep anxiety regarding their self-worth, and the constant guilt they felt about their behavior that was “murdering Mother Earth,” as the board liked to preach. That feeling was by then widespread throughout Masdar’s population. The residents had for several years been scolded by the board of directors and official media outlets: described as wasteful, ignorant, and ultimately undeserving to live in Masdar City. In one famous televised interview, an especially grumpy board member said: “The truth is that Masdar City would be better off if a plague came tomorrow and wiped out half its population.” Only after a moment’s reflection did he add, “the bad half of course.”

2. Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque—Palace of God

This is part two of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.

From day one, the board of directors managing the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque knew that their main challenge was to mediate between the building’s two functions: a prayer hall and a tourist attraction. This was a tricky problem because so much money and energy had gone into making the building as architecturally attractive as possible to bring in selfie-hungry ‘pilgrims,’ and yet, it was still a mosque and needed to function as one. In fact—and this is the brilliant realization of a board member that started this whole story—without properly functioning as a mosque full of devout Muslim worshipers, the building would seem like a shallow vanity project, therefore becoming much less effective at bringing in tourists in the first place. The balance was delicate, but achieving it was absolutely necessary.

Only after understanding this dilemma could the board’s two controversial decisions be comprehended. Those decisions would of course later lead to the stripping of all board members of their positions due to public outrage reaching dangerous levels. But we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. Let’s start with the first of the two controversial decisions: implementing an entrance fee.

The board’s reasoning was simple. There were too many visitors, whether tourists or worshipers, and the existing facilities could not handle their numbers. Before the entrance fee was implemented, long lines were a common sight outside the mosque’s main gates, and it often took visitors more than an hour to make their way past the security point. Although tourists did not mind the wait, worshipers did. It is common knowledge that the five daily prayers of Islam are supposed to be performed at specific times. Having to wait an hour outside the gates meant that worshipers often missed the collective prayers, making their trip to the mosque meaningless.

1. Saadiyat Cultural District—More Culture Than You Can Handle

This is part one of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.

Of course the Saadiyat Cultural District was going to be a success. The sheer star power of its institutions and architects made success inevitable. But it was just how successful Saadiyat island became that took everyone by surprise. As soon as the Louvre and Guggenheim museums opened their doors, millions of tourists flocked to Abu Dhabi to experience these architectural wonders, and the artistic treasures they held. Spectacular images of Saadiyat were on the front page of every international newspaper and magazine. Celebrities made sure to be ‘spotted’ there. Art curators begged and bribed to have their names included in the upcoming exhibitions. Journalists flew to Abu Dhabi on their own expense for the opportunity to publish an article on this cultural phenomenon. The world could not get enough of Saadiyat, and Saadiyat always had more to offer.

The media craze was reignited with the opening of every new project, of which many were in the works. Announcements of newer, bigger, and better buildings were a monthly occurrence. The number of visitors grew exponentially, and ambitious infrastructural projects were quickly built to accommodate them: new roads, bridges, airports, hotels, tram lines, and subways. Starchitects raced to be included. It didn’t matter what they designed; they just wanted to have their names associated with Saadiyat. Koolhaas proposed new road signs. Gang designed bus stops. Calatrava designed streetlamps.

Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi

This text is composed of five parts. The first four are short stories that each takes an existing architectural project in Abu Dhabi and imagines a fictional history for it. The fifth part—the Afterword—reflects on the four stories in relation to the concepts of utopia and dystopia. Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi is an experiment in the use of literary writing for architectural criticism.

Links to the five parts

1. Saadiyat Cultural District—More Culture Than You Can Handle

2. Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque—Palace of God

3. Masdar City—Ready for the 22^nd Century

4. Emirates Palace Hotel—We’re Exclusively Inclusive

5. Afterword—On Utopia and Dystopia

Space Cactus, Episode 2

The second episode of Space Cactus is here! This time, I collaborated with Abdullah Ali (find his art here: Inkuarium). Abdulla did the artwork, while I wrote the script and did the lettering.

In this episode, Space Cactus continues to astonish us with it's ability to heroically save the day, rescuing billions of innocent lives on Planet Phluvaluv, and that is by doing absolutely nothing (which, incidentally, is also how most non-space cactuses conduct themselves).

Enjoy!

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Space Cactus

This project started with two drawings of a cactus growing out of a block of frozen earth floating aimlessly in space. The drawings weren't meant to 'mean' anything other than a general feeling of serene and stress-free existence unconcerned with space or time.

After the first two drawings, I started calling this 'character' Space Cactus, as if it's a comic book superhero. I thought wouldn't it be cool for there to be superhero that literally did nothing: it didn't move or think, but rather simply existed; and wouldn't it be cooler if despite this static existence, it nevertheless played a (major) role in the events that happened around it. We could say that Space Cactus is an 'actor' (a player, participant, contributor...etc to its world) without 'acting' anything.

Usually, comic book characters, even when they are not human, act or display emotions typical of human beings. They could be robots with humanoid bodies or aliens that feel love. Alternatively, the idea of Space Cactus is to imagine a protagonist of a comic book that is neither human nor human-like: it is just a cactus. Conceived as such, we could say that Space Cactus is born out of a post-humanist outlook.

Below is a 'sketch' (I am not a great comic book artist!) of the first installment of Space Cactus titled "Not All Heroes Have A Pulse". As you will see, humans do partake in the action, but they are almost always peripheral, both graphically and story-wise. On the other hand, other types of beings play important roles such as an asteroid, a small rock, and of course Space Cactus. There is also a small cute lizard, but it doesn't do anything as far as I know.

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صناعة النفس

عَرَفَ طريقه إلى البرج دون الحاجة للعنوان. كلُّ ما كان على الأستاذ أن يفعله هو توجيه بصره إلى ما فوق أبنية مدينة الإبتكار المنخفضة ليرى برجاً واحد يرتفع فوق ما حوله. أصبح لَمَعان واجهات البرج المتموّجة بوصلته والهدف. ركن سيارته عند أقدام أعمدة البرج الفولاذية التي غُرست أساستها عميقاً في الأرض وثقبت رؤوسها السماء. نزل من السيارة و نظر إلى البرج بتمعن: لاحظ أن زجاج البرج ذو طبيعة متقلبة: فهو يظهر شفافاً من بعض الزوايا ليصبح كل ما يدور في طوابق البرج الأربعين مكشوفاً للشارع ولكن يمكن لأي تغيير لزاوية الرؤية أن يقلب شفافيته إلى أسطح فضية عاكسة تمنع الرؤية تماماً. رغم ذلك فإن واجهات البرج المطوية تكون خليط من الشفافية والإنعكاس (الظهور و الإختباء) من أغلب الزوايا.

دخل الأستاذ من البوابة الرئيسية ووقف وسط ردهة الإستقبال. كانت الصالة مرتفعة السقف وبسيطة التصميم. من جنبيه مقاعد موزعة لتكوين جلسات مستديرة لها طابع عصري ويغلب على صنعتها المعادن و الجلود. لكن ما جذب انتباهه كانت اللوحتان المعلقتان على الحائطين الرماديين خلف الجلسات. كلتا اللوحتين كانت انفجار من الألوان الفاقعة بعضها ينتشر بعنفوان وبعضها يتقلص ليصبح خطوط رفيعة. كانت الألوان تسبح دون أن تتحرك فشكّ الأستاذ بكونها ثلاثية الأبعاد رغم استقامة سطحي اللوحتين. عندما دقق النظر اكتشف أن أحد اللوحتين تمثل شبكة معقدة من الخلايا العصبية للدماغ. أما اللوحة الأخرى فكانت لشريحة إلكترونية تتشابك فيها المسارات الكهربائية. قبل أن يتمكن من التدقيق أكثر لكشف أسرار اللوحتين سمع صوت جهوري يملأه المرح:

- أهلاً بك يا أستاذ!

تقدم نحوه رجل في أول الخمسينيات من عمره قصير القامة وممتلئ الجسد. عرف الأستاذ أنه بو سالم الرجل الذي جاء ليقابله. أكمل بو سالم كلامه بعد أن صافح الأستاذ بحرارة وربت على كتفه بِوِد كأنه يستقبل صديق قديم:

- كما تعرف يا أستاذ أنا المسؤول على تشغيل هذا البرج وبالخصوص إدارة الأعمال اليومية لفريق الروبوتات الذي يعمل هنا. لدينا حالياً أكثر من عشرة روبوتات تقوم بأعمال متنوعة منها استقبال السكان والزوار والتنظيف والطبخ وإصلاح الأعطال الميكانيكية وغير ذلك. أنا متأكد من أن أستاذ متميز في مجال الروبوت مثل حضرتك سينبهر بالتقدم التكنولوجي الذي حققناه في هذا البرج. كما أنني سعيد لأني سأتعاون معك كمستشار من خلال عملك في الجامعة. كما تعرف هذا البرج تملكه الجامعة وتشغله كسكن لأساتذتها ومختبر لتجربة أحدث التقنيات الروبوتية التي تطورها.

لم يستطع الأستاذ أن ينطق بأكثر من "شكراً لك يا بو سالم..." حتى استمر بو سالم حديثه المندفع:

- هيا تعال إلى طاولة الإستقبال لترى بعينك ما أتحدث عنه.

بعد أول خطوتين مشياهما نحو طاولة الإستقبال تدارك بو سالم تسرعه فقال ووجهه (المنحصر بين حاجبين عريضين و لحية كثيفة) يُظهر جرعة مبالغة من الندم:

- يا لقلّة أدبي! نسيت أن أسألك عن أحوالك! كيف كانت رحلتك إلى هنا؟

- لا داعي للإعتذار! في الحقيقة كانت الرحلة طويلة ومتعبة. لا أخفي عليك أنني الآن أعاني من صداع خفيف وأفكاري ملخبطة نوعاً ما خاصة و أنه يبدو أن كل شيء في هذا البرج يستحق الدراسة و التدقيق. بينما أشعر كأنني استيقظت للتو من نوم عميق!

تطلع إليه بو سالم بتعاطف وقال:

- سمعت هذه الكلمات ينطقها كثير ممن جاءوا إلى هذا البرج بعد سفر طويل. ولكني أبشّرك بأن حالتهم انقلبت إلى الأفضل بعد أن استقروا هنا ليوم أو يومين.

قال تلك الجملة الأخيرة و قد عادت ملامحه من الجدية إلى المرح. ثم أشار بيده إلى الشابين الوسيمين الجالسين وراء طاولة الإستقبال وكانا قد وصلا إليها. نظر إليهما الأستاذ فأحس بشعور غريب عندما أدارا وجهاهما ببطء حتى صارا ينظران في عينه مباشرة. صرّح بو سالم بفخر:

- هذا سالم ب و هذه عبير أ. هما روبوتان قد تم تطويرهما في الجامعة قبل عدة سنوات وما زالا يخدمان السكان والزوار على أكمل وجه ودون أي خلل. لقد صُمّما لهذه المهمة خصيصاً فكما تلاحظ ليس لهما أرجل بل إنهما مثبتان على المقاعد.

كان الأستاذ ينظر إليهم بتعجب وهو يسمع شرح بو سالم. ما زاد من ارتباكه هو أن الروبوتان لم يرمشا أو يتوقفا عن التحديق في عينيه طوال تلك الفترة. قال الأستاذ بعد أن جمع أفكاره:

- لم أكن أعلم أن مختبر الروبوتات في الجامعة قد وصل إلى هذه الدرجة من التطور! يبدوا أن عليّ تعلم الكثير قبل أن أستطيع التدريس هناك. هل يتكلمان؟

- بالطبع! ولكن يجب عليك أن توجه الكلام إليهما مباشرة. مثلاً: سالم ب و عبير أ هل بإمكانكما إخباري رقم الطابق والشقة التي حُجزت للأستاذ؟

التفت وجها الروبوتان ببطء نحو بو سالم حتى صارا يحدقان في عينيه ثم تحركت شفاهمما بحركات وسرعة متطابقة وصدر صوتهما يقول:

- شقة الأستاذ في الطابق السابع والثلاثين ورقم الشقة اثنا عشر.

- شكراً جزيلاً.

تبدّلت ملامح الأستاذ من التعجّب إلى الإنعجاب. لاحظ ذلك بو سالم فقرر أن ينتهز الفرصة:

- إذا كانا هذان الروبوتان قد أعجباك فإنك ستسعد أكثر لما سأريك إياه لاحقاً. فهذان الروبوتان ما هما إلا جزء بسيط من النظام الأوتوماتيكي المشغّل لهذا البرج. كل أجزاء البرج والروبوتات العاملة فيه تدار من قبل حواسيب ذكية بشكل موحد حتى أن البرج وكل من فيه يمكن اعتباره كيان واحد.

ثم أشار بيده حول ردهة الإستقبال مركزاً على نقطٍ حمر وجدت في أغلب الزوايا وعلى الأعمدة الرخامية السوداء وعلى تضاريس السقف المتعرجة. قال وهو يبتسم:

- أترا كل تلك العدسات؟ إنها تراقب كل ما يحصل في هذا البرج وتروي بتلك المعلومات الحواسيب الذكية التي بدورها تقوم بإدارة البرج بفاعلية شبه كاملة. تعال لنذهب إلى المصاعد لأريك شقتك.

مشى بو سالم وسار وراءه الأستاذ وهو يتلفّت ليعد العدسات المُراقِبة فلم يستطع أن يحصيها كلها ولكنه أدرك أنها في كل لحظة تصوره من جميع الاتجاهات. أخذ يسرع من خطواته ليلحق ببو سالم.

- وماذا عن الخصوصية يا بو سالم؟ كيف للمرء أن يشعر بالراحة في شقته إذا عرف أنه مراقب؟

- لا تقلق يا أستاذ. نحن حريصون على الخصوصية ولذلك فإن كل المعلومات والصور التي يتم جمعها تظل مشفّرة وليس لأحد سوى الحواسيب الإطلاع عليها وذلك لا يكون إلا لخدمة السكان. تذكر أن للروبوتات أشكال إنسانية و لكنها في النهاية برمجات رقمية لا تعرف العاطفة أو الخجل أو حتى معنى الخصوصية. كل ما تفعله هو لخدمة البشر لأنها بُرمجت لذلك الغرض.

كانا قد وصلا إلى زاوية المصاعد. استدار بو سالم وابتسم للأستاذ وعيناه تبرقان بمكر ثم قال:

- إلا إذا كنت تعتقد أن للروبوتات عواطف وأفكار مثل الإنسان وأنها تستحق أن نخجل من مراقبتها لنا؟

- لا أنا لا أعتقد ذلك. ولكنني ما زلت غير مرتاح من كوني تحت المراقبة.

- ستتعوَّد!

قال بو سالم تلك الكلمة الصادمة وضحك بصوت عالي ويديه الكبيرتين تمسكان بكرشه المهتز. ثم توجه إلى لوحة المصاعد التي لم يكن عليها غير واحدة من تلك العدسات المحاطة بعدد من النقط الضوئية الحمراء. ما أن وقف أمام العدسة حتى تحركت على الشريط العامودي التي كانت مثبتة عليه لتكون أمام عينيه مباشرة. بعد لحظة تحولت الإضاءة الحماء إلى خضراء وفتح باب أحد المصاعد وسُمع صوت يقول:

- إلى الطابق السابع والثلاثين.

دخلا المصعد وأغلق الباب بصوت خافت يشبه الهمس. سأل الأستاذ:

- كيف عرف المصعد إلى أي طابق كنا نريد الصعود إليه؟

ابتسم بو سالم بدراية فعرف الأستاذ أنه تعمَّد عدم شرح المسألة من قَبل حتى يتلذذ بالجواب على السؤال الذي تأكد أنه سيأتي لا محالة.

- إن هذه العدسات بإمكانها إذا ما وقفنا بقربها و نظرنا إليها أن تقرأ أفكارنا البسيطة. كل ما كان علي فعله هو التحديق بالعدسة والتفكير بالرقم سبعة وثلاثين.

- عجيب!

أخذ المصعد بالإرتقاء بكل سلاسة وكأنه يطفو على غيمة. كانت أرضية المصعد وسقفه عبارة عن ألواح معدنية فضية لامعة. أما الحوائط فقد استحوذت على انتباه الأستاذ بمادتها المتقلبة. فكانت تسبح على سطح الحوائط بقع هلامية تتحول من مرآة مغبشة إلى زجاج شفاف. لعدة لحظات يرى الأستاذ وجهه المشوَّش منعكس على المرآة فيحاول التدقيق فيه كأنه يكتشف ملامحه للمرة الأولى ولكن تحوّل المرآة إلى زجاج شفاف يمنعه من ذلك. حينها يرى ما وراء زجاج المصعد من فضاء شاسع يحتوي على "عقل" البرج (كما عبر عنه بو سالم لاحقاً) وهو عبارة عن حواسيب عملاقة ترقص عليها الأضواء وأسلاك شائكة وأنابيب ضخمة متداخلة بتعقيد.

راقب بو سالم استغراب الأستاذ فظن أنه انبهر بما رأى وراء زجاج المصعد من تطور تكنولوجي واضح. ولكن في الحقيقة كان استغراب الأستاذ راجع إلى تلك اللحظات الخاطفة التي لمح فيها انعكاسه فلم يعرف فيها نفسه!

فُتح باب المصعد وخرجا إلى ممر ملتوي ذو إضاءة خافتة. كانت أرضية الممر و سقفه مغطان بسجاد رمادي متين امتص خطواتهم دون الإفلات بأي صوت. أما الحوائط فقد لُصِق عليها ورق أسود رُسمت عليه أشكال هندسية عبر نتوءات دقيقة لا تلاحَظ إلا عند اللمس أو عندما ينعكس عليها النور بزاوية معينة. أبواب الشقق كانت رمادية وفي وسط كلٌ منها عدسة بنقاطها الحمر.

لم يعكر الهدوء السائد سوى صوت مكنسة كهربائية سمعاها ولم يريا مصدرها نتيجة التواء الممر. بعد عدد من خطوات حينما وصلا منتصف الممر رأيا عاملة نظافة تقوم بكنس الممر بسرعة مذهلة كأنها ترقص بحماسة و دقة. قال بو سالم عندما وقفا خلفها:

- أهلاً بكِ يا عبير ن.

توقفت عبير ن عن العمل والتفتت متوجهة لبو سالم. لاحظ الأستاذ أن ملامح وجهها متطابقة مع عبير أ التي التقياها عند طاولة الإستقبال. الفرق كان في تسريحة الشعر وكون عبير ن تمتلك رجلان تقف عليهما.

- أهلاً بكَ يا بو سالم.

قالت ذلك عبير ن و توقفت في مكانها كالدمية محدقة في عيني بو سالم دون أن تصدر منها أية حركة إضافية أو نَفَس وكأن الزمن توقف عندها بينما استمر بالنبض لغيرها. سأل الأستاذ:

- أجميع الروبوتات لهم وجوه و أجسام متشابهة؟

- نعم. وذلك القرار أتّخذ من الجامعة لتسهيل تعرف الناس على الروبوتات. لدينا شكلان للوجوه: سالم الذي يشبه الذكور وعبير التي تشبه الإناث. رغم أن ذلك إختلاف سطحي فالأجهزة المحركة والتقنيات المطورة للتحكم بالروبوتات لا تختلف بينهما. حتى الصوت كما يجب أنك لاحظت لا يختلف بين السوالم و العبائر.

- كم باهتة ومُحْبِطة ستكون الحياة لو أننا كنا متشابهين في الشكل والمضمون!

قال الأستاذ ذلك وهو ينظر إلى عبير ن بشفقة. ارتبك بو سالم لهذا التحول في المزاج من المباهات بالتطور التكنولوجي إلى التفكّر الفلسفي ولكنه تماسك نفسه وحاول أن يعيد المزاج كما كان فقال مبتسماً:

- إذن فمن المناسب أن تكون الروبوتات لا تشعر بالإحباط! أليس كذلك يا أستاذ؟ دعك من هذه الأفكار الكئيبة وتعال لأريك شقتك الجديدة.

مشيا بضع خطوات حتى وصلا إلى بابٍ كُتب عليه الرقم إثنا عشر. لوّح بو سالم فعرف الأستاذ أن عليه أن يقف أمام الباب و ينظر في العدسة. صعدت العدسة تسلقاً على شريطها العامودي حتى صارت أمام عينيه. بعد لحظة تحولت النقط الحمر حول العدسة إلى اللون الأزرق و فتح الباب. فجأة هجمت عليه وعلى الممر من خلفه أشعة الشمس المتوهجة فشتتت ظلمة الممر وأغرمته على حماية عينيه بيده اليمنى. دخل الشقة وعبر الممر حتى وصل إلى الصالة. استغرقت عينيه عدة لحظات للتأقلم على النور الساطع من نوافذ الصالة الكبيرة. عندها استطاع الأستاذ أن يتأمل الشقة ويكتشفها بعينيه الفضوليتين.

جميع ما في الشقة من أسطح و قطع أثاث كان باللون أبيض. ذلك البياض الكامل تشرّب نور الشمس بِنَهَم وأعاد بثّه في الهواء المشتعل. كلما أطال الأستاذ النظر كلما شعر أن الهواء من حوله سيذوب وأن الأثاث سيتفتت إلى غبار من ضوء. كان يعيش إحساس الحُلُم.

شعر أن عينيه ترى كل شيء بوضوح لم يعرفه من قبل: أقمشة المقاعد وعروق الرخام وملاسة الحديد وألياف الخشب. حتى الأصوات كانت ترن في أذنية بدقة. كل خطوة مشاها باتجاه النافذة كان يسمع تفاصيلها وكأن صداها متجسد أمام عينيه بكل تعرجات موجاته. وقف عند النافذة التي غطّت مع أخواتها أحد الحوائط بالكامل فرأى مدينة الإبتكار ممتدة من تحته وبعدها حرم الجامعة.

تركه بو سالم لبعض الوقت كي تأخذ عيناه الوقت الكافي لاستيعاب المكان والمنظر. ثم سأل أخيراً:

- ما رأيك في الشقة يا أستاذ؟

فكر الأستاذ ثم تنطّق كلماته بتردد دون أن يلتفت.

- إنها جميلة. أجمل مما توقعت. ولكنني أشعر بشيء غريب كأن أفكاري تلخبطت وتغير تربيبها. كأنني أتذكر المستقبل وأنتظر الماضي. لا أعرف كيف أشرح لك ولكن صداعي الذي كنت أعانيه من مشقة السفر قد تحول من مجرد ألم إلى حركات تلعب في أفكاري.

صمت قليلاً ثم التفت ليتفحص الشقة حتى أوقف عينيه لتلاقيا عيني بو سالم المنتبه. ثم أكمل كلامه:

- لدي سؤال غريب. أشعر أنني عشت في هذه الشقة من قبل. أشعر أنني لو ذهبت إلى محلات الأثاث لن أشتري غير هذه القطع ولن أختار غير اللون الأبيض. هل وضعتم هذا الأثاث هنا من أجلي خصّيصاً أم أنه متكرر في جميع الشقق؟

رفع بو سالم حاجبيه بإعجاب كأن دقة وصف الأستاذ قد فاجأته.

- شعورك صادق يا أستاذ ولكن الموضوع يحتاج شرح. فنحن وضعنا الأثاث هنا لأنك أنت الذي اخترته قبل أن تأتي إلينا وإنْ لم تتذكر ذلك. في الوقت نفسه هذا الأثاث متكرر في عدد من الشقق الأخرى.

- لم أفهم.

- تعال وانظر من هنا وستفهم.

قال ذلك بو سالم و أشار إلى المرآة التي تحتل جزء من الحائط عند مدخل الشقة. لم يكن الأستاذ قد لحظ المرآة عند دخوله لدهشته بسطوع النور الذي أعماه عن كل شيء سواه. تقدم الأستاذ نحو المرآة بخطوات بطيئة. نظر فيها فلم يجد نفسه. وجد سالمٌ واقف في مكانه ويرتدي ملابسه. حرك يديه ليجد نفسه. لم تتحرك سوى يديّ السالم. كان ذاك هو، أما هو هو فلم يكن موجود.

اشتد الصداع بين أذنيه كأنما أجراس نحاسية تقرع حوائط جمجمته. أمسك نفسه. حاول أن يعيد توازنه. لم يفهم شيء. كيف هو سالم بشكله ووجهه وطوله؟ أخذ يبحلق عينيه بتركيز مؤلم في صورته التي ليست هو.

حاول أن يتذكر من هو ومن أين أتى قبل أن يصل إلى البرج. حاول أن يتذكر طفولته. حاول أن يتذكر أشخاص أو مشاعر أو أحداث عرفها قبل مدينة الإبتكار والبرج. في كل تلك المحاولات فشل.

أخيراً ظهر بو سالم من خلف انعكاسه في المرآة و قال بنبرة حنونة كأنه أباً يستقبل ابنه بعد سفر طويل:

- أهلاً بك يا أستاذ سالم ع في بيتك. لقد انتظرت هذه اللحظة طويلاً و سأشرح لك كل شيء الآن...

قصة البيت عديم الممرات

قالوا له، ذلك الذي يبني بيته: تأكد من استغلال كل مترٍ من أرضك فكلما أوسعت من الغرف وأقصرت من الممرات كنت أنت الرابح. إعلم أن خريطة البيت حربٌ بين المساحات النافعة والمساحات المهدورة، وتكثر في هذه الحرب الخدع، فكم من تغيير في الخريطة ظاهره انتصار للفاعلية وحقيقته إضاعة للمساحة وخسارة للمال والمنفعة. عدوك الأشرس في حرب الإستغلال هذه هي الممرات، هي تظهر وجه الخدمة فتقول: أنا أربط بين أعضاء البيت وأجعل تنقلك بين غرفة وأخرى سهلاً ومريحاً، و لكن في الحقيقة الممرات أشبه بالأفاعي السامة، هي تلتوي على الخريطة و تأكل من مساحات كل غرفة تجاورها، هي أيضاً تبعد بين أطراف البيت فتسم الحياة العائلية وتقتل حميميَّتها. يا من يبني بيته إلغي كل ممر من خريطتك لتسعد.

راح ذلك المسكين بما تعبّأ من عداوة للممرات إلى مصمم البيت، فرمى الخرائط على الطاولة وعليها آثار شخبطات جنونية وقال: أريدك أن تقتلع كل ممر من هذه الخرائط فكما علمت للتو أن الممرات تشبه النباتات الشريرة، إذا لم تُقتلع فإنَّ جذورها تنتشر إلى كل زوايا البيت فتمتص المساحات و تفسد الفضاءات. فعل المصمم كما أُمر فصارت غرف البيت على الخريطة مربعات متلاصقة دون مساحات فاصلة مثل العتبات أو الردهات أو الممرات.

بعد انتهاء البناء صار من يدخل البيت يجد أن بابه الرئيسي يؤدي إلى وسط صالة الإستقبال مباشرة، والصالة متصلة بغرفة الطعام دون حاجز، ومن هناك بابٌ في وسطِ الحائط يفتح إلى المطبخ الرئيسي. الوضع مشابه في الطابق الأول حيث أن صالة المعيشة تحيطها عدة أبواب يؤدي كلٌ منها إلى غرفة نوم. خلا البيت من أي ممر و كان المسكين وعائلته المسكينة فخورين بذلك، فعندما دخلوا البيت أول مرة وقفوا وسط صالة المعيشة يوجهون ابتساماتهم في جميع الإتجاهات ويمتدحون ذكاء بعضهم البعض.

لم تطل مدة معيشتهم في البيت حتى بدأت المشاكل في الظهور. فكلما استضافت المسكينة صديقاتها في صالة الإستقبال ارتبكت حركة العائلة، فدخول المسكين والأولاد إلى البيت أو خروجهم منه إضطرَّهم إلى المرور عبر الصالة، مسبباً حرجاً لهم و إزعاجاً للضيوف. أما في الطابق الأول فقد اكتشفوا سريعاً أن أبواب غرف النوم المؤدية مباشرة إلى صالة المعيشة جعلت من انتقال الصوت أمراً لا يُحتمل حتى وإن كانت الأبواب مغلقة، فمن كان يقرأ في غرفة نومه يسمع مجريات الفلم المعروض على تلفزيون الصالة كأنه فيها، ومن كان في الصالة تصله أصواتٌ من كل الغرف، فمن هنا مشاجرة عبر اتصال هاتفي ومن هناك موسيقى شبابية صاخبة. صاروا يشعرون أنهم أقرب إلى بعضهم البعض مما ينبغي فما يفعله أحدهم يزعج الآخرين و من يتحرك في البيت يعرض خصوصية غيره للانتهاك.

حينئذٍ عرفوا أن جودة الخريطة المعمارية ليست قائمة على توسعة غرفها الرئيسية ولا على التخلص من الممرات، بل في مدى خدمة التصميم لحياة عائلية مريحة و صحية، وأن ذلك يتطلب وعي بمهمة كل عنصر معماري. فالممرات من الممكن استخدامها لترتيب الغرف بالشكل المثالي ووضع كلٌ منها على المسافة المناسبة من الغرف الأخرى، كذلك من خصائصها إيجاد مسارات ثانوية لتحرك سكان البيت حتى يحتفظ كلٌ منهم بخصوصيته. الأهم هو تعلم المساكين أن لكل قرار معماري نتائج كثيرة، بعضها واضح وأكثرها لا يكشفها إلا الزمن.

قصة الأسقف المرتفعة

قالوا له، ذلك الذي يبني بيته: إرفع أسقف بيتك قدر ما استطعت ففي ارتفاع السقف جمال للدار لا يعوضه عرضٌ و لا طول، كما أن في فضاء الارتفاع حرية للبدن ونزهة للعين ومسبح للروح، ألم تعلم أن صحة البيت مبنية على اثنين: نور الشمس و برودة الهواء، ولا من صفة للبيت تستقبل النور وتنعش الهواء كما يفعل ارتفاع الأسقف، يا من يبني بيته ارفع أسقفك لتسعد.

راح ذلك المسكين و خياله يرقص على نغمات ما سمع، وقال للبنّاء: إرفع أسقف بيتي قدر ما استطعت فكما عرفت للتو أن في ارتفاع الأسقف بركة للمسكن وخير للساكن. إستجاب البناء لما أُمر وصار يرفع من الأسقف أقصى ما تتحمل الأعمدة، حتى عندما اكتمل البناء كان البيت هو الأعلى في الحي.

في يوم الانتقال إلى البيت الجديد تجمَّع أهل الحي عند الباب ليباركوا للمسكين وعائلته المسكينة اكتمال هذا البيت الشاهق وليمدحوا ذكائه في التصميم. ابتهج المسكين بانعجاب الناس فبرزت ابتسامته طوال عملية نقل الأثاث من الشاحنة إلى باب البيت. ثم عرض الناس عليه أن يساعدوه في حمل الأثاث إلى طوابق البيت الثلاثة طمعاً منهم بالتمتع بمنظر الأسقف المرتفعة.

هنا بدأت حقيقة الأسقف بالانكشاف: لم يطل الوقت حتى تعب الناس من حمل الأثاث صعوداً على عتبات الدرج العديدة: الأسقف المرتفعة تؤدي إلى أدراج عميقة كأنها جبال عاتية عند الصعود ووديان سحيقة عند النزول. أُرهق الناس من تسلقهم المستمر وعلى ظهورهم ثقل الأثاث فكانت أعينهم تسابق أقدامهم في عد العتبات اللانهائية، حتى أنهم نسوا أن يرفعوا نظراتهم للأسقف المرتفعة.

بعد بضعة أشهر من الاستقرار في البيت الجديد ظهرت مشاكل أخرى سببها ارتفاع الأسقف، فكلما انطفأت لمبة أو سالت قطرات ماء من فتحات التكييف اطُّر المسكين لجلب أطول سلم وجده في السوق، فأصبحت عملية تغيير لمبة رحلة مرعبة و خطرة: يصعد السلم مرتجفاً و جميع أفراد عائلته المسكينة يتشبثون بأرجل السلم لمنعه من التأرجح والسقوط. عند وصوله إلى الأعلى يضطر إلى رفع كلتا يديه للفك و التركيب فيشعر أنه سيهوي إلى نهايته في أي لحظة، يحاول جهده منع عينيه من اكتشاف بعده عن الأرض و يلهي نفسه بهمسِ ما يتذكر من الآيات والأدعية.

في أول ليالي شهر رمضان لذلك العام فكر المسكين أن يصعد إلى السطح ليرى ما إذا كان ارتفاع البيت سيمكنه من رؤية الهلال. لهذه المهمة قرر أن يدعوا بعض جيرانه ذوي الخبرة، فكانوا خمسة عنما صعدوا السطح ساعةً قبل الغروب. سرعان ما وصلوا انبهروا جميعهم بجمال منظر الشمس المحترقة على نار الأفق و السماء المشتعلة حُمْرة و صُفْرة. بعد لحظة من التأمل الهادئ لاحظوا أنهم لم يكونوا وحدهم المنعجبون بذلك المنظر الخلاب، فالطيور كانت على امتداد الدرابزين وأنابيب المياه وآلات التكييف، بل و كان السطح مليء بالريش المبعثر والأعشاش المهجورة والبيض المكسور وأشياء أخرى! وقتها عرف المسكين أن الطيور تحب أن تقيم بيوتها على الأبنية المرتفعة، وأن لكل قرار معماري نتائج كثيرة، بعضها واضح وأكثرها لا يكشفها إلا الزمن.

الفضول (و) القاتل

أرميه بنظرة انزعاج كلما ضغط على زر الجرس، العَمل الذي يقوم به كل دقيقتين تقريباً، الجرس صوته عالي، يجرح الهدوء الذي هو ثالثنا في هذا المصعد و الذي تربطني به علاقة وثيقة. ها هو يسِلُّ إصبعه المرتجف مرة أخرى و يطعن به باتجاه الزر.

- هم عرفوا أن المصعد عالق، و سيخرجوننا بعد قليل، لا داعي للجرس. أقول له.

ينظر إليَّ بانفعال، هذه أول مرة نوجه حديثنا لبعض منذ توقف المصعد بين الطابقين الخامس و الرابع، كانت كل كلماتنا السابقة همسات للنفس.

- أنا مستعجل. 

أفكر قليلاً، أحاول أن أقرر ما إذا كنتُ أريد أن أتحدث مع هذا الرجل الخمسيني الأنيق، سكوتي سيقتل الحوار، في الحقيقة أنا لا أعرف كم ستطول عملية إصلاح المصعد، أقرر.

- ما الذي يجعلك مستعجلاً؟

يفاجئه سؤالي، يتمهَّل، يتنفس بعمق.

- لدي موعد في المحكمة.

أحاول أن أعرف ما إذا كان هو المتَّهم أم الشاهد أم المحامي أم القاضي من شكله ولِباسه، أعجز عن ذلك.

- ما القضية؟

يلتفت إليَّ باستغراب، متعجباً من وقاحة السؤال، لكنه يستسلم.

- يتهمونني بالقتل، أنا في هذا العمر بعد أن استقرَّت حياتي أخيراً يتهمونني بالقتل.

لسبب ما لا أشعر بالقلق كوني عالق في مصعد مع قاتل محتمَل، كل ما أشعر به هو الرغبة الجامحة لمعرفة المزيد.

- لا تبدو لي كقاتل.

يبتسم بحزن و يقول: شكراً، إذاً ماذا أبدو لك؟

- من الممكن أن تكون سارق أو غاسل محترف للأموال، و لكن ليس قاتل.

بعد لحظة من الصمت ينفجر ضاحكاً و يداه تلوحان في فضاء المصعد الصغير، نجاح نُكتتي يعطيني الجرأة للإستمرار.

- لكن قل لي بصدق و أعدك أنني لن أخبر الشرطة، هل أنت قاتل بالفعل؟

فجأة إنقلبت تعابير وجهه و تجهم بغضب، كَبت الكلمات التي كادت أن تخرج من فمه بصعوبة و أدار وجهه عني. بعد لحظة، عاد للضغط على زر الجرس باستعجال.

Before a House, and After It

SCENE ONE

Abeer and Salim are sitting in their living room, on the top floor of Salim’s parent’s house. They moved in six years ago when they got married. Now, with two children, and a plan to have two more, they are quickly outgrowing the limited space. As a gift, Salim’s father gave them a plot of land in the Abdulla AlSalem neighborhood. They spent the past few weeks looking for the right architect to design their house. Almost every night, before going to bed, they talk about their dream house. This night is not different.

Abeer: Did you talk to the architect you told me about yesterday?

Salim: Yes, I visited his office. We had a long meeting. At first, he didn’t want to take the project.

Abeer: Really, why?

Salim: A long story about how he was too busy with other projects, he didn’t have enough employees, our timeline is too short...etc. When everything else failed, I promised him that if he took the project, I would pay all his fees upfront.

Abeer: Wow, do you think that’s a good idea?

Salim: He is an amazing architect. I told you how many people recommended him. He also showed me some of his designs. They were beautiful, exactly like the classical villas we liked in Europe.

Abeer: Oh, that’s great. Ok, so what happens now?

Salim: I gave him our list of requirements, and I told him where the plot was so he can take a look. He said he will come up with some preliminary ideas and call us in a couple of weeks.

Abeer: This is really happening, isn’t it? We’re going to build our house! I’m so excited!

They were both excited. Abeer just showed it more. They had a strategic corner plot, in a nice neighborhood, and a great architect. What could go wrong?

SCENE TWO

Several weeks had passed since they hired the architect. A couple of meetings with him allowed Abeer and Salim to explain how they imagined their dream house. They realized that articulating exactly what they wanted was harder than they thought.

This is their third meeting with the architect, and the first where the architect had brought drawings of a preliminary design. In their small apartment on top of Salim’s parent’s house, Abeer and Salim sit next to each other on a couch. In front of them, sitting on another couch is the architect. Between the two couches is a coffee table with several rolls of drawings.

The architect unrolls his drawings and begins to speak:

Architect: Let’s imagine the future, fifteen years from now. Your beautiful daughter Sarah is getting married. There is no better place to have the engagement party than in her own home. The reception area in the ground floor is spacious and beautiful. It’s already impeccably decorated, so all you have to do is add a few flower bouquets in the corners.

Your guests arrive through the front door. They are dazzled by the elegant space. Colorful wallpaper. Classical furniture. Intricate wall moldings. You greet them, and take their hand to show them around your house. Through this large opening in the wall [he points to a perspective drawing done with water colors], framed by a white built-in cabinet with gold highlights, you walk to the next room in the reception area.

The decoration here is totally different, but equally beautiful. Everyone is smiling and happy. They can’t wait to see your daughter in her white dress. She is upstairs getting ready of course. The party helpers move back and forth from the reception area to the adjacent kitchen [he points at a floor plan], serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres arranged on silver trays with floral borders.

Here, the architect focuses his attention on Abeer, making eye contact with her and smiling. He can already see that Salim is sold on the design.

Architect: You glide from one unique room to the next, entertaining your many guests. Each room is just the right size to hold around twenty guests, but together, these interconnected reception rooms can host a much larger number. This is the magic of the design. All the rooms are clearly defined, but they open up to each other to make one big space. I’m sure the younger guests would prefer sitting together in one room so they can mischievously whisper their secrets and laugh at the latest jokes. The older guests would want to sit together in another room to catch up with old friends. Each room has enough privacy for a cozy atmosphere, but never loses its connection to the larger party.

Can you almost hear the sounds of the party? Can you feel the excitement, and smell the food? This will go on for a few hours of absolute joy. Then, the big event. [he points to the floor plan] All eyes will be on the spiral staircase. Your daughter slowly makes her way down the steps. She is revealed gradually. First, only her shoes, then the white of the dress, then her arms, then her shoulders, then her face. The room is absolutely still. No one breathes. No one blinks. And the party continues…

The architect leans back. There is moment of silence, as he mentally congratulates himself on his performance, and Abeer and Salim absorb what they just witnessed. They glance from the drawings to the architect, and then to each other.

Salim: Wow, wow! I love it! This is beautiful. Truly perfect. I don’t even know what to say. I just feel very emotional thinking of Sarah’s future. [he turns to Abeer, and points to a perspective showing the spiral staircase] Can you imagine Sarah walking down these steps?

Abeer: Yes, the drawings are beautiful. I love the classical style of the rooms, and I like how each room is different. I just had a few practical questions. The way all the rooms open up to each other would be perfect for a large party, as you described. But what about small gatherings, if its’ just me and a few friends. It would be nice to be able to close one of these rooms to make it more private.

Salim: Hmm, yeah, that would actually make sense.

Architect: I don’t think there is a need for that. [he points at the floor plan] Look at the openings between the rooms. They are not very wide, quite reasonable. It will feel like an enclosed room.

Abeer: I understand. But, for example, some of my friends are hijabis. They would feel more comfortable removing their hijab if there wasn’t an opening in the wall, where Salim or Marzouq, once he grows up, would be able to look through as they enter and exit the house. [she points to the perspective showing the opening framed by the white cabinet] I would think it’s not difficult to add a door in this opening. It is already framed.

Architect: Oh no! That wouldn’t do. A door would totally ruin the effect of free-flowing space. That effect is crucial to the design.

Salim: How about a folding screen that can be extended and contracted depending on the situation?

Architect: To do that, the lovely arch of the opening would have to be replaced with a plain rectangular hole. The house would lose its classical style that you specifically asked for.

Salim: I do think the arch is beautiful. [he turns to Abeer] Is a door really that important? I am sure we can coordinate my entering and exiting the house to suit your schedule.

Architect: Yes, I suggest solving this issue by coordinating your schedules, not with doors. Also, I want to keep us focused on the bigger picture. Getting distracted with small technicalities can easily ruin the architectural quality of the house. Let’s think big. Big occasions. Big parties. Big lives.

Is it so bad to make a few small sacrifices to have the perfect engagement party for your daughter?

The architect says this looking straight at Abeer. This imaginary engagement party, for her currently eight-year-old daughter is starting to annoy her.

Abeer: Well, I am not against making sacrifices. I know a house can’t be perfect. But I also have practical concerns about hosting big events in this space. In such occasions, the men and women would, of course, have separate parties. We might have asked for a European style house, but we are not Europeans [she smiles]. If there is a way to divide the rooms, we would be able to have a private space for men, and a private space for women. [she turns to Salim] Or are you fine with having your daughter partying with the men?

Salim: No, of course not! It goes without saying that the parties would be segregated. [he turns to the architect] Is there a way to do that?

The architect pauses and thinks. He is quickly trying to find the right words to save his design from being meddled with. Abeer used his idea of the daughter’s engagement party against him. He must find another strategy.

Architect: First, I think it would not hurt any of us to be a little more European, don’t you think? [he smiles at Salim, trying to get him back on his side] But anyway, these reception rooms can be used by men or women. That’s for you to decide.

My point is that all elements of this design work together. I have put a lot of effort, not just in designing the main rooms and their decoration, but also on supporting rooms. [he points at the floor plan] Look at how the kitchen connects to this reception room. Look at how the spiral staircase is centered in relation to the front door.

Don’t let the beauty of the house fool you, it works like a Swiss watch [he smiles]. Changing one part would definitely have a negative effect on its functionality. I really only want your long-term comfort.

Salim: All your effort is very much appreciated. Don’t take this as criticism. We are only thinking out loud and having a friendly conversation. We will probably not make any changes to the design. [he turns to Abeer] What do you think?

Abeer: I agree, of course. The design is amazing and beautiful. The issues I bring up are quite small. I am sure we will find simple solutions that keep that design as you intended, and add some practicality to the house.

Abeer thinks she has made her point while being diplomatic, and avoided hurting the architect’s feelings. The architect thinks she is being passive aggressive. He is ready to draw battle lines, counting on Salim’s support. He directs his words to Abeer.

Architect: Your words sound like praise, but their meaning points to the opposite. I have tried to explain how changing one thing in the design, would mean that the house, as a whole, would suffer. Maybe you have not understood me, because I don’t seem to understand you. If you dislike the design please say so openly.

Salim decides to act quickly before things further sour.

Salim: No, no, I am sure she likes the design. It is a spectacular effort. Everyone likes the design.

Abeer: No, not everyone! I only like the parts of the design that work. I definitely don’t like the parts that don’t!

You think you’re so smart for placing the kitchen next to the reception area for easy service, but you seem to have forgotten that we are in Kuwait not Italy. We eat machboos and murabyan, not spaghetti Bolognese. We use a lot of spices, and we cook is large pots. In my daughter’s ‘engagement party’, as you keep saying, my guests might as well sit in the kitchen, because the entire reception area will stink of cooking!

The architect sits silently, regretting his aggressive comments. He thinks he miscalculated his tactics. Salim decides to step in again to calm everyone down.

Salim: Surely, it’s not that bad.

Abeer: Yes it is! Any woman in Kuwait would know that you have to either move the kitchen away from the reception area, or build a greasy outkitchen to do the heavy cooking in.

I also have issues with the spiral staircase. Sure, it looks nice, but I don’t trust it. My children are small, and I am worried they would trip on these irregular steps. I would rather have a simple staircase, a normal one that is safe, than a fancy one that would worry me every time one of us was going up or down...

Architect: Is that all?! It seems you want to change everything! I knew you didn’t actually like the design. I have put all this effort designing an elegant classical house, and you want a ‘normal’ staircase! Why did you hire me if you wanted something ‘normal’?

Abeer: Because we thought you knew what you were doing!

Salim: Ok, Ok. Let’s all calm down. There is no need for this. How about we keep these drawings for a few days to think about them, and then have another meeting to talk some more? I am sure it will all be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.

Architect: Fine.

Abeer: Fine.

Salim: Great! [his tone is of a teacher addressing a couple of quarreling school children] See how we can all get along? [he holds out his hand for the architect] Come, let me walk to you to the door. Thank you so much for all your effort. I will give you a call tomorrow.

Salim leads the architect down the stairs and out to the front door of the house.

SCENE THREE

It’s later on the same day, around 10 pm. Abeer and Salim had not talked to each other after the meeting with the architect, except in monosyllable sounds. Salim decides to break the ice.

Salim: So... You and the architect seem to be getting along quite nicely. [he smiles] I’m starting to feel jealous.

Abeer: Very funny.

Salim: Seriously though, it didn’t have to get uncivil, did it?

Abeer: He started it.

Salim: You know he’s just trying to design the best house that he can. He’s working hard for us. We should try to work with him.

Abeer: He’s designing the best house for himself, not for us. The house doesn’t fit our lifestyle. It’s beautiful, but unpractical. Anyway, if you want us to meet again, I can do that, but that’s only because you seem to really want him to design our house.

Salim: I do. I believe he’s the right man for the job. I’ll call him tomorrow and set up another meeting. Did you know he had drawings of the first floor bedrooms that he didn’t even get to?

Abeer: Ok, let’s meet him and see the drawings. But don’t expect me to keep my opinions to myself. If I don’t like his design, I’ll make sure he knows.

They both smile, Salim more nervously than Abeer.

SCENE FOUR

They are all back in the living room: The architect, Salim, and Abeer. The children, Sarah and Marzouq, are also there playing on the floor next to their parents. The seating arrangement had changed from the previous meeting. Salim and the architect are sitting on one couch, and Abeer is sitting opposite them on another. Between them is the coffee table with rolled drawings.

Sarah: I want my room to be Purple, because Purple is my favorite color.

Architect: What a coincidence, Purple is my favorite color too! I’ll make sure your room is Purple. [he turns to Marzouq} And what color do you want your room to be?

Marzouq: Green.

Architect: oh, good choice! I like Green too! I have two favorite colors: Purple and Green. Why do you like Green?

Marzouq is too young to know how to answer that question. Nevertheless, he stares at the architect with intense attention, and says what he thinks is an appropriate response.

Marzouq: Green.

The architect continues to gently smile and nod his head in agreement with Marzouq.

Architect: Ok, Green it is. Got it.

Salim: Sarah, take Marzouk and play over there in the corner. We have to talk about important things with this gentleman.

Sarah: Ok.

Sarah gets up, holds her brother’s hand, and confidently drags him to the corner. Marzouq does not want to go, but has no choice. He doesn’t complain though, because he is more confused than distressed.

Salim: So, shall we get to it?

Architect: Yes, I have a few more drawings to show you that I didn’t get to last time.

Abeer: Great, I can’t’ wait to see them!

Both Salim and the architect, caught by surprise by Abeer’s apparent enthusiasm, look up to see if it’s genuine or sarcastic. They can’t figure it out.

The architect unrolls his drawings and carefully organizes them on the table. This time, the arrangement is tricky, because Abeer and Salim are sitting opposite to each other. He hesitates for a second, but ends up orienting most of the drawings towards Abeer, and a couple of perspectives towards Salim. He doesn’t like it, but moves on.

Architect: Let’s imagine the future, five years from now. God willing, you will have two more beautiful children. This house needs to serve your practical needs at that time, and even further into the future. [he looks at Abeer] Isn’t that right Abeer?

Abeer thinks the architect must have rehearsed his speech, including this little gesture.

Abeer: Yes, exactly. I totally agree.

Architect: This design will do exactly that. [he points to the floor plan] There are four main parts to the first floor: a living room with a small kitchenette, the master bedroom, a ‘boys’ wing’, and a ‘girls’ wing’.

Each of the two children’s wings has two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. This way, the boys and girls can have some privacy. All the bedrooms are spacious and have large windows. The children will be able to use these rooms for many years without outgrowing them.

And just as with the reception rooms downstairs, each bedroom will be designed with a different color palette, décor details, and furniture to match. I believe that each child should feel that their room is special to them. Taking ownership of one’s space is an important step in a child’s mental development, helping them grow up to become strong and independent individuals. I will of course consult you before finalizing the color palettes.

Salim: Colors aren’t my strong suit. What do you think Abeer?

Abeer: Sarah said her room should be Purple, and Marzouq wants his to be Green. So we only have to choose for the other two rooms.

Architect: Oh, I was just kidding with the children. We don’t have to stick with what they said. I’m sure we can figure out what is most appropriate.

Abeer: I think if you asked them and they answered, there’s no good reason not to respect their choices. I would go ahead with Purple for Sarah, and Green for Marzouq.

Architect: I was actually thinking of keeping the palette of the private spaces to soft earth tones. I fear a Purple room and a Green room would be too jarring to the eye. [he turns to Salim] What do you think Salim?

Salim does not want to be the tie-breaker. He doesn’t even think the colors of the children’s rooms are important. But both the architect and Abeer are looking at him, expectedly.

Salim: What if we come back to this issue later. Let’s look at the rest of the design, maybe the master bedroom?

Architect: Ok, although we should try to finalize some decisions today for me to be able to move forward with the design.

Abeer: I actually have another issue to discuss concerning the children’s bedrooms. Am I misreading your drawings or are you assuming that our next two children will be a boy and girl? There are two bedrooms in each ‘wing’, is that correct?

Architect: Yes, that is correct. I know we can’t be 100% certain, but it is statistically the most probable outcome. A boy and a girl.

Salim: hmm, yes, statistically...

Abeer: Statistically... “the most probably outcome”?

Architect: Yes, of course, statistically.

Abeer: And what if we have two boys? Will one of the boys stay in the girls’ wing? Or will be change its name to the ‘gender-neutral’ wing? Or maybe the two boys share a bedroom in the boys’ wing, and Sarah gets to have two bedrooms?

Sarah looks up from the corner as she hears her name.

Salim was getting more worried with each of Abeer’s sarcastic questions. He glances at the architect to see how her rhetorical jabs are being received. To his relief, the architect seemed unaffected. He is looking at Abeer with no expression.

Salim: Oh, I’m sure it’s none of these answers Abeer. Maybe, if we have two boys, which is statistically improbable of course, [he points at the plan] we close this door opening to the girls’ wing, and open a door in this wall onto the boys’ wing. That shouldn’t be hard.

The architect is horrified by the suggestion, but tries not to show his emotions. He does not want them to start breaking walls and closing doors as soon as the house is built, completely subverting his intentions.

Architect: oh, no. I don’t think that will be necessary...

Abeer ignores the architect and answers Salim.

Abeer: And what if we have two girls? What walls will you break? And what doors will you close?

We simply cannot assume the genders of our unborn children. You can design a girl’s room for Sarah, a Purple one, and Green boy’s room for Marzouq. The other two rooms must be able to serve a girl or a boy.

Architect: Are you suggesting abandoning the whole concept of the wings? The wings are very important to the design. The two wings are opposing anchors that organize the rest of the space around them. Breaking the coherence of the wings will render the floor plan illegible. It simply won’t do.

This issue can be resolved if you decide to have a little more faith in statistical probability.

Abeer: [clearly getting frustrated] Believe me, if I could determine the gender of my unborn children to allow you to keep you design concept, I would, but I can’t. So it’s not an option. The two extra rooms have to be able to serve a girl or a boy.

Architect: [also getting worked up] I cannot allow the entire concept of the house to be simply discarded because of your lack of faith in statistical probability!

Abeer: My house, my rules! Deal with it!

The architect turns to Salim.

Architect: Whose house is this?!

Salim: It’s our house, all of us. Let’s just calm down. I think the floor plan is quite ingenious. It looks very practical and beautiful. The perspective drawings are very impressive. Let’s leave the issue of the children’s bedrooms for a second. Let’s look at the master bedroom. [he points at a perspective drawing of the room] Look at that! I can imagine having my morning tea in that balcony, and reading the paper.

Abeer: You don’t even drink tea in the morning! And you read the newspaper in the office! Salim, this is the house we will live in with our children, not some imaginary family.

We can move on to another part of the design, but I’m warning you, both of you, I will not change my mind!

Architect: And I will not change mine either! I don’t want to keep moving on without finalizing any decisions. We need to resolve the issue of the children’s wings right now.

Salim, you need to decide, do you want to make a rational decision based on statistical probability, or do you want to scrap the entire design and start from scratch?

Salim: I think both your opinions have value... and I think... that... what if we... hmm I really don’t know.

Abeer: I actually have another issue with the children’s rooms.

Architect: Unbelievable!

Salim: [whispering to himself] God have mercy.

Abeer: Twenty years from now, when Marzouq is old enough to get married, I want us to have space in this house for him to live with his wife and family. Land in Kuwait is so expensive these days, and it’s only going to become more so. I want to make sure that my son has a place he can stay in after getting married, at least for a few years until he finds his own place.

Architect: But we already agreed on not adding a third floor to the house! You said you wanted a reasonably sized two story house. Where do you suggest I add the space you’re talking about?!

Abeer: I don’t know. I’m not the architect. Maybe two of the bedrooms can be closed off, and connected to an external staircase so that they can have their privacy as they enter and exit the house. I’m not sure how to achieve this, but it’s very important to me.

Salim: This does seem like a useful feature, [he turns to the architect] but I’m not sure if it’s possible to integrate in the design.

Architect: It is absolutely not possible! You said you wanted a grand house, with a classical style. Well, grand houses don’t have ugly external staircases hanging form their side, and European classical houses don’t have space for the entire extended family!

You asked me to design one thing, and now you want something else!

Abeer: We are in Kuwait, and in Kuwait, newly married sons often live with their parents. That’s the tradition. I am not inventing anything new! Aren’t Salim and I living in his parents’ house right now?!

Architect: This is absolutely unacceptable! I don’t know if I can work on this project anymore! This meeting isn’t going anywhere, so I will leave. You can keep the drawings for a few days to make your decision. If you still want me to work on the project, then I will only apply minor changes to the design. [he stands] But if you insist on these drastic alterations then I suggest you find another architect!

Abeer: That’s fine with me!

Salim: Ok, ok, let’s stay calm. There’s no reason to take this personally. [he stands and holds out his hand to the architect] Let me walk you to the door. Don’t worry, we’ll think about what you said, and I’m sure we’ll reach a decision that you will like.

Salim and the architect walk out quickly. Abeer remains seated, and looks over at Sarah and Marzouq. Sarah is nervously looking back at her, clearly upset by the loud voices. Marzouq is still playing. Abeer gets up and walks over to comfort Sarah.

SCENE FIVE

The entire family is standing on the edge of the site. The architect is standing next to Salim. A tractor is moving earth from one place to another. Half a dozen workers are being ordered around by a contractor. In his hands are the architect’s drawings.

Architect: [talking to Salim] The basement and foundation work will take a couple of months. Then, you will see your house rising in no time!

Salim: Yes, God willing. Again, I want to thank you for the great work you have done for us. We really appreciate it. And it goes without saying, I want you to keep an eye on the construction work on site. I want everything to be done according to your design and good construction practices.

Architect: Of course, I will visit the site every week, and one of my associates will visit the site more than that.

Salim: That’s good to hear. Thank you.

Architect: Excuse me, I will go speak with the contractor.

Salim: Of course.

The architect walks over to the contractor. Salim and Abeer exchange glances. Sarah is staring at the tractor. Marzouq is counting sidewalk pavements. Salim starts talking to Abeer.

Salim: You look worried.

Abeer: No, I’m just thinking. We’re going to live here for the rest of our lives. It’s an important moment.

Salim: You’re worried about the design, aren’t you?

Abeer: No, I’m not worried. I just hope that you were right about the design, and about trusting him with the house.

Salim: He’s a very good architect.

Abeer: So you say.

Salim: We can still ask him to make some changes to the design if you want. People make changes even after construction starts.

Abeer: No, I’m not doing that anymore. We all said what we wanted to say, and we each made our decision. Now, we are where we are. I’ve moved on. I just hope you were right.

END