It was a Physics class. It was Sunday. It was 2:00 PM. The benches were long ones made out of rough dark wood that would fit seven each, there were 2 rows. The guy, dark skinned, early forties - I'd say mid-thirties but he looked dull, he wore a brown suit that I'd seen him wear over and over for 3 years. I loved Sunday, I loved Brown , I loved 2:00 PM. Before that.
The night before that day, I was with my dad getting stuff for my new home for the coming, supposedly, five years. We were walking to take the bus home when he said to me: Yalla, let's get your shoes cleaned! I stood before the guy, offering my shoe, observing the technique he had used to restore a shine on my tired black Cat boots. After he was done, my dad was like: "Zay awwal yom Madrase!". Feels like a first day at school. I was beyond depressed to reflect.
The next day, he was like: "Today is your first day at college, you shall remember this date Baba!". He was right. I think I remembered that day every year for the past eight years. October 24th, 1999.
To my utter interest in Dates, yesterday was my last exam, it was Monday, it was 4:30 PM, and it was Physics. The bench was a tiny one with a light brown Formica finish, it was hall 202.
The guy I sat next to back in 1999 was dark skinned too, as in tanned, his name was Ayyoub. We agreed on meeting to tutor me on what I've missed out on the next day at 2:30, neither of us showed up.
June 4th 2007, Baba.