<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tregim nga Jakup B. GJO\u00c7A<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Kujtimet e trondit\u00ebn s\u00ebrish. I dukej se \nrijetonte t\u00eb nj\u00ebjt\u00ebn ndjesi, por q\u00eb k\u00ebsaj here e l\u00ebndoi thell\u00eb n\u00eb \nzem\u00ebr. Vajtja ime m\u00eb dukej si Prova e Jet\u00ebs. \nDuhet m\u00eb par\u00eb t\u00eb p\u00ebrballem me Vetveten. T\u00eb provoja n\u00ebse kam Forca t\u00eb gjykoj \nVetveten. N\u00eb Jet\u00eb vet\u00eb plagosim Vetveten m\u00eb shum\u00eb edhe sesa na plagosin t\u00eb \ntjer\u00ebt, madje, duke p\u00ebrs\u00ebritur t\u00eb nj\u00ebjtat faje, pa nxjerr\u00eb kurr\u00eb m\u00ebsime. T\u00eb \ntjer\u00ebt, mund t’i g\u00ebnjejm\u00eb se jemi mir\u00eb, me nj\u00eb buz\u00ebqeshje t\u00eb shtir\u00eb, Por \nvetveten, nuk mund ta g\u00ebnjejm\u00eb, nuk mundet kurr\u00eb q\u00eb Shpirtit ton\u00eb t’i dhurojm\u00eb \nbuz\u00ebqeshjen hipokrite, kur Shpirti mbart plag\u00ebt e fajeve tona. Edhe pse \nngush\u00ebllojm\u00eb vetveten, duke kujtuar se nuk do t\u00eb gabojm\u00eb s\u00ebrish. Por shpeshher\u00eb \ni trembemi vetvetes m\u00eb shum\u00eb se nga \u00e7do Frik\u00eb e Jet\u00ebs dhe, m\u00eb keq, asnj\u00ebher\u00eb nuk \ngjejm\u00eb forc\u00eb te Vetvetja jon\u00eb t\u00eb gjykojm\u00eb fajet dhe gabimet tona, duke mbetur \np\u00ebher\u00eb Rob i dob\u00ebsis\u00eb son\u00eb t\u00eb brendshme, e cila na e b\u00ebn edhe m\u00eb t\u00eb r\u00ebnd\u00eb \nplag\u00ebn, pa gjetur kurimin e Shpirtit ton\u00eb. Prova m\u00eb e v\u00ebshtir\u00eb e Jet\u00ebs ton\u00eb \n\u00ebsht\u00eb t\u00eb p\u00ebrballemi me Vetveten….<\/p>\n\n\n\n 111-ta. Ai e gjeti dhom\u00ebn q\u00eb i \nrekomanduan te informacioni i spitalit. N\u00eb shpirtin tim, ka mbetur, si hiri pas \nzjarrit, epilog i dashuris\u00eb time, monologu, q\u00eb nuk munda ta b\u00ebja dialog me \nViol\u00ebn. Keqardhja?….Koha?…. Nuk e di, as vet\u00eb. Tregim nga Jakup B. GJO\u00c7A N\u00eb messenger, nj\u00eb mesazh t\u00eb ri kishte koh\u00eb q\u00eb kishte mb\u00ebrritur, por ai nuk e kishte hapur ta lexonte, ngaq\u00eb ishte nga person i paindentifikuar. P\u00ebr kurreshtje e hap. Kur lexon emrin \u201cVioli\u201d. \u201cSapo kam dal\u00eb nga koma. P\u00ebsova aksident me makin\u00eb. Kudo q\u00eb t\u00eb jesh, t\u00eb lutem, eja t\u00eb m\u00eb […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":22186,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-22259","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aktualitet"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22259","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22259"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22259\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22186"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22259"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22259"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22259"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
N\u00eb messenger, nj\u00eb mesazh t\u00eb ri \nkishte koh\u00eb q\u00eb kishte mb\u00ebrritur, por ai nuk e kishte hapur ta lexonte, ngaq\u00eb \nishte nga person i paindentifikuar. P\u00ebr kurreshtje e hap. Kur lexon emrin \n\u201cVioli\u201d.
\u201cSapo kam dal\u00eb nga koma. P\u00ebsova aksident me makin\u00eb. Kudo q\u00eb t\u00eb \njesh, t\u00eb lutem, eja t\u00eb m\u00eb takosh. T\u00eb lutem, Violi\u201d.
N\u00eb fillim, e mori si loj\u00eb \nt\u00eb Viol\u00ebs.
Violi i kishte bllokuar mesengerin, q\u00eb nga ajo nat\u00eb, para 4 \nvitesh. Ai, edhe pse u zem\u00ebrua nga sjellja e Viol\u00ebs, kurr\u00eb nuk u mundua t\u00eb gjej\u00eb \nasnj\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00eb komunikimi.
Edhe pse, sa her\u00eb e kujtonte, l\u00ebndohej, u mundua ta \nharroj\u00eb, sado e v\u00ebshtir\u00eb ishte p\u00ebr t\u00eb. Gati e pamundur.
Mij\u00ebra hamendje e \nmundonin deri n\u00eb tortur\u00eb, \u201cP\u00ebrse?\u201d- t\u00eb, p\u00ebr t\u00eb shpjeguar, sado pak ndryshimin e \nsjelljes s\u00eb Violit, por, kurrsesi, nuk mundi t\u00eb bind\u00eb vetveten, cila ishte \nar\u00ebsyeja e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb, q\u00eb Violi e largoi, n\u00eb m\u00ebngjezin e asaj nate, q\u00eb kaluan \nbashk\u00ebrisht, n\u00eb sht\u00ebpin\u00eb e saj.
Vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr nj\u00eb gj\u00eb, nuk mund ta pranonte \ngjithsesi. Q\u00eb Violi nuk e kishte dashuruar. Q\u00eb Violi nuk e donte.
At\u00ebhere, \n\u201cP\u00ebrse?\u201d u b\u00ebn\u00eb s\u00ebrish t\u00eb huaj?
Thua, se \u00ebsht\u00eb e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb, q\u00eb n\u00ebse e ke vrar\u00eb \ndashurin\u00eb e par\u00eb, nuk mund ta rijetosh m\u00eb, kurr\u00eb?
Aq e thell\u00eb ishte \nzhgj\u00ebnjimi q\u00eb p\u00ebsoi, saq\u00eb nuk mundi t\u00eb b\u00ebnte aspak fajtore Viol\u00ebn, por \nvetveten.
P\u00ebrse i besoi s\u00ebrish Viol\u00ebs? P\u00ebrse besoi s\u00ebrish, se Viola do ta \ndashuronte, thua se do t\u00eb fshinte me nj\u00eb leck\u00eb, zhg\u00ebnjimin e dashuris\u00eb s\u00eb par\u00eb, \nsi\u00e7 fshijm\u00eb g\u00ebrmat q\u00eb shkruajm\u00eb me shkum\u00ebs t\u00eb bardh\u00eb n\u00eb d\u00ebrras\u00ebn e zez\u00eb.
Si \nt\u00eb bindej, se telepatit\u00eb ekzistojn\u00eb, n\u00eb at\u00eb moment, mb\u00ebrrin n\u00eb mesengerin e tij \nnj\u00eb foto nga Violi. Thua se Violi e dinte, q\u00eb ai tani sa lexoi mesazhin e par\u00eb \nt\u00eb saj. Ata nuk kan\u00eb shoq\u00ebri n\u00eb rrjetin social, ndaj edhe mesazhet vijn\u00eb nga \nperson i paftuar dhe tjetri nuk ka asnj\u00eb mund\u00ebsi t\u00eb kuptoj q\u00eb mesazhi u \nlexua.
E hapi foton. Nj\u00eb person me fasho t\u00eb lidhur gjithandej, nga koka, \nduart, k\u00ebmb\u00ebt.
\u201cMos u tremb. Un\u00eb jam Violi. Jam akoma gjall\u00eb\u201d, – ishte \nmesazhi i tret\u00eb q\u00eb i mb\u00ebrriti, pas fotos.
U bind, q\u00eb Violi nuk b\u00ebnte m\u00eb loj\u00eb \nme t\u00eb.
Q\u00ebnka aksidentuar v\u00ebrtet.
Nj\u00eb her\u00eb mendoi q\u00eb nuk duhej t\u00eb \nshqet\u00ebsohej m\u00eb, p\u00ebr asnj\u00eb ndodhi t\u00eb Viol\u00ebs. N\u00eb k\u00ebto nd\u00ebrkoh\u00eb vitesh, pas asaj \nnate, ai mundohej, q\u00eb n\u00ebse e kishte t\u00eb pamundur t\u00eb fshinte nga memoria Viol\u00ebn, \nt\u00eb pakt\u00eb, p\u00ebrpiqej, q\u00eb ta harronte. Ta strukte sa m\u00eb thell\u00eb, n\u00eb err\u00ebsir\u00ebn e \nkujtes\u00ebs, p\u00ebr t\u00eb mos u l\u00ebnduar. \u201c Nuk t\u00eb harroj, edhe pse l\u00ebndohem, kur t\u00eb \nkujtoj! Ndjem\u00eb nj\u00eb ndjenj\u00eb, jetuam nj\u00eb nat\u00eb. \u201c, i thoshte Violit, sa her\u00eb \nballafaqohej me t\u00eb n\u00eb monologjet e shpjegimeve t\u00eb \u201cP\u00ebrse?\u201d-s\u00eb t\u00eb largimit t\u00eb \nViolit.
Duke q\u00ebn\u00eb se Violi nuk i p\u00ebrgjigjej n\u00eb monolegjet e tij, at\u00ebhere, ai \ni dha vetvetes shpjegimin: \u201cNdjenjat tona u b\u00ebn\u00eb shina n\u00eb Jet\u00eb, q\u00eb mbartin \nTrenin e JoFatit. Edhe pse n\u00eb Udh\u00ebkryqet e Viteve ndonj\u00eb shin\u00eb e nd\u00ebrmjetme \nleht\u00ebsoi kalimin e vagonave t\u00eb pritjes, zhg\u00ebnjimit, iluzioneve, Shinat e \nNdjenjave nuk u bashkuan kurr\u00eb, n\u00eb Stacionin e Lumturis\u00eb ton\u00eb.\u201d. Ndaj at\u00eb nat\u00eb, \nai e quajti nj\u00eb shin\u00eb t\u00eb nd\u00ebrmjetme, q\u00eb m\u00eb shum\u00eb mbarti vagonin e iluzioneve dhe \nt\u00eb zhg\u00ebnjimit, ngaq\u00eb shinat e ndjenjave t\u00eb tyre, kurr\u00eb nuk u bashkuan, n\u00eb \nstacionin e lumturis\u00eb.
\u201cZhg\u00ebnjimin nuk e p\u00ebsova nga Ty, pse m\u00eb premtove, por \nnga Vetvetja ime, pse besova te Ty.\u201d, – iu p\u00ebrgjigj Viol\u00ebs n\u00eb monologun e \nvet.
<\u201dM\u00eb the \u00ebnd\u00ebr, t\u00eb thash\u00eb dashuri!\u201d, – ishte fjalia q\u00eb Violi i \nd\u00ebrgoi atij, kur ai i pohoi, q\u00eb n\u00eb t\u00ebr\u00eb nd\u00ebrkoh\u00ebn e munges\u00ebs s\u00eb tyre, ai e \nkishte \u00ebnd\u00ebrruar sa her\u00eb Violin, pa guxuar t\u00eb shpresonte, se nj\u00eb dit\u00eb, Violi do \nt\u00eb b\u00ebhej s\u00ebrish e dashura e tij. Ndoshta \u00ebnd\u00ebrronte ndjenj\u00ebn e dashuris\u00eb s\u00eb \npar\u00eb, q\u00eb humbi.
– \u00c7far\u00eb jam un\u00eb p\u00ebr ty? Vet\u00ebm shoqe? – ishte fraza e par\u00eb e \nViolit, sapo u p\u00ebrsh\u00ebndet\u00ebn n\u00eb mesenger, pasi u rigjet\u00ebn n\u00eb nd\u00ebrkoh\u00ebn e 25 \nviteve.
– Je dashuria ime e par\u00eb! – iu p\u00ebrgjigj ai, duke pohuar at\u00eb ndjenj\u00eb \nq\u00eb e trazonte sa her\u00eb n\u00eb \u00ebnd\u00ebrrat e tij.
– Vet\u00ebm kaq?
– \u00c7far\u00eb mund t\u00eb \nthem m\u00eb shum\u00eb, tani?
– Nuk ndjen asgj\u00eb p\u00ebr mua tani?
– Do t\u00eb doja\u2026
– \nDhe pse dot\u00eb doje, dhe nuk m\u00eb do m\u00eb?
– Po\u2026
– \u00c7far\u00eb?…
– E di?…
– \nQ\u00eb?….
– T\u00eb ta them. Nuk mundem ta p\u00ebrmbaj, tani q\u00eb t\u00eb d\u00ebgjoj z\u00ebrin. Q\u00eb e \ndi, se edhe ti m\u00eb d\u00ebgjon, tani..
– Dua t\u00eb ma thuash. \u00c7\u2019jam un\u00eb p\u00ebr ti, \ntani?
– T\u00eb kam dashur shum\u00eb, edhe pse e dija q\u00eb ndoshta nuk do takohemi \nkurr\u00eb.
– Dhe, pse e dije q\u00eb nuk do takoheshim kurr\u00eb?
– Po ne ik\u00ebm n\u00eb t\u00eb \nkund\u00ebrt\u00ebn e rrjedh\u00ebs s\u00eb jet\u00ebs.
– Po a m\u00eb do akoma?
– T\u00eb dua. Prandaj, t\u00eb \nmendoj. Prandaj, thell\u00eb meje, ndjej plag\u00eb, q\u00eb nuk u b\u00ebre e imja.
– V\u00ebrtet, \nakoma m\u00eb do kaq shum\u00eb? – e pyeti me nj\u00ebher\u00eb Violi.
Ai u trondit. Nuk i pohoi, \nq\u00eb e donte akoma. M\u00eb shum\u00eb i pohoi at\u00eb trazir\u00eb t\u00eb \u00ebnd\u00ebrrave t\u00eb tij.
– Edhe \nun\u00eb t\u00eb dua kaq shum\u00eb.- i tha m\u00ebnjeher\u00eb Violi, pa pritur p\u00ebrgjigjen e pyetjes s\u00eb \npar\u00eb.
Ai heshti. As pohoi, q\u00eb e do akoma. Por as nuk mundi t\u00eb \nkund\u00ebrshtonte….<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ndaj, edhe fshiu t\u00eb gjitha mesazhet e Violit.
T\u00eb nes\u00ebrmen, i \nmb\u00ebrrin nj\u00eb mesazh, k\u00ebsaj here nga vajza e saj.
\u201c Mami, sapo ka dal\u00eb nga \nkoma, pas nj\u00eb aksidenti. Do t\u00eb t\u00eb lutesha, t\u00eb vinit. Ka nevoj\u00eb p\u00ebr pranin\u00eb \ntuaj:.
Mesazhi i vajz\u00ebs s\u00eb Violit, sikur theu ngurrimin e tij.
Nuk donte \nkurrsesi, q\u00eb prania e tij, t\u00eb ushqente te Violi shpresa. Gjithsesi, jo!
Por, \nderisa vajza e saj, i d\u00ebrgoi mesazh lutjeje, do t\u00eb thot\u00eb, q\u00eb ndoshta, n\u00eb \ngjendjen e saj pathologjike, prania e tij, do t\u00eb ndikonte n\u00eb p\u00ebrmir\u00ebsimin e \ngjendjes s\u00eb saj sh\u00ebndet\u00ebsore.
Nuk ndryshoj Vetveten, Karakterin, Sjelljen, q\u00eb \nt’i p\u00eblqej, t\u00eb plot\u00ebsoj\u00eb shijet e dikujt, qoft\u00eb kjo edhe Violi. Mbaj Karakterin \nTim dhe k\u00ebrkoj shok\u00eb\/e, miq\/esha q\u00eb m\u00eb duan, k\u00ebshtu si jam, ky q\u00eb jam. Mbase \nVioli nuk m\u00eb donte, ky q\u00eb jam. Prandaj, m\u00eb k\u00ebrkoi at\u00eb nat\u00eb, t\u00eb ikja, s\u00ebrish, nga \njeta e saj. Ashtu, ftoht\u00eb, si\u00e7 m\u00eb k\u00ebrkoi t\u00eb ikja, mendova se ajo nuk m\u00eb kishte \ndashur asnj\u00ebher\u00eb. Thjesht, luajti teatrin e ndjenjave tona. Apo, deshi, \nnj\u00ebfar\u00ebsoj, t\u00eb hakmarrej p\u00ebr t\u00eb shkuar\u00ebn q\u00eb vram\u00eb, duke m\u00eb zhg\u00ebnjyer \ntani\u2026
N\u00ebse duhej t\u00eb shkoja pran\u00eb Viol\u00ebs, tani, m\u00eb dukej m\u00eb e v\u00ebshtir\u00eb se \nkurr\u00eb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dera ishte gjys\u00ebm e hapur, dhe u \nmundua t\u00eb hynte, pa b\u00ebr\u00eb zhurm\u00eb. N\u00eb krevatin p\u00ebrball\u00eb der\u00ebs ishte shtrir\u00eb \nAjo.
Ajo, q\u00eb kishte torturuar gjith\u00eb \u00ebndrrat e tij, edhe ato \u00e7aste jete, kur \nkujtonte se g\u00ebzonte lumturi. Ajo, q\u00eb u b\u00eb vet\u00eb \u00ebndrra e vetvetes s\u00eb tij. Ajo, te \ne cila k\u00ebrkonte ngush\u00ebllimin e vetvetes, sa her\u00eb bindej se nuk e gjeti lumturin\u00eb \ne k\u00ebrkuar. Ajo, dashuria e tij, q\u00eb shpirti i tij ende e k\u00ebrkonte.
Ao, dhe \ntani q\u00eb e gjeti, thua se Ajo, zbriti nga \u00ebndrrat e tij, \u00ebsht\u00eb para tij, por jo \nsi e stoliste imagjinata e tij n\u00eb \u00ebndrrat e tij.
Ajo nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb e qeshura q\u00eb \nai k\u00ebrkonte, si\u00e7 k\u00ebrkon gjethja rrezen e diellit, p\u00ebr t\u00eb b\u00ebr\u00eb fotonstintez\u00ebn e \nekzistenc\u00ebs\u2026.
\u2026.Por e fashuar e t\u00ebra, nd\u00ebrsa dora e djatht\u00eb i varej n\u00eb nj\u00eb \nmb\u00ebshtet\u00ebse ndihm\u00ebse. N\u00eb nj\u00eb karrike n\u00eb an\u00ebn tjet\u00ebr t\u00eb krevatit, dremiste nj\u00eb \nvajz\u00eb.
– Traqe, ti je? – d\u00ebgjoi nj\u00eb z\u00eb t\u00eb humbur.
Ishte z\u00ebri i Violit. \nEdhe pse kok\u00ebn e kishte t\u00eb fashuar, syt\u00eb e saj e njoh\u00ebn n\u00eb gjys\u00ebmerr\u00ebsir\u00ebn e \nkorridorit.
Sakaq vajza q\u00eb dremiste u ngrit menj\u00ebher\u00eb n\u00eb k\u00ebmb\u00eb. Pa nga \ndera.
Traqja q\u00ebndronte pa l\u00ebvizur, dhe as nuk foli.
Vajza erdhi pran\u00eb tij, \nhapi der\u00ebn dhe e ftoi t\u00eb hynte brenda.
Ndezi edhe drit\u00ebn e dhom\u00ebs.
Traqja \nu fut, shtyu der\u00ebn, ta mbyllte dhe q\u00ebndroi p\u00ebrball\u00eb Violit.
U drodh i t\u00ebri, \nteksa e mbikqyri tashm\u00eb me v\u00ebmendje, t\u00eb gjith\u00ebn t\u00eb mb\u00ebshtjell\u00eb me fasho, si nj\u00eb \nnimf\u00eb e posalindur.
– E dija q\u00eb do t\u00eb vije. T\u00eb prisja, – i foli Violi dhe u \nmundua t\u00eb qesh\u00eb dhe ta ftoj\u00eb me gisht\u00ebrinjt\u00eb e dor\u00ebs s\u00eb nderuar, q\u00eb i dilnin \npak\u00ebz nga fashoja.
Traqja nuk fliste dot. Nj\u00eb ng\u00ebr\u00e7 iu mblodh n\u00eb gryk\u00eb. Tani \nu bind, q\u00eb Violi kishte luftuar me jet\u00ebn. Nuk e dinte, sa kishte fituar mbi \nvdekjen.
– Hajde, ulu pran\u00eb meje. – e ftoi Violi.
Vajza e saj, i afroi \nkarriken, pran\u00eb kok\u00ebs s\u00eb krevatit t\u00eb Violit.
Traqja u ul dhe syt\u00eb i hodhi n\u00eb \nfytyr\u00ebn e Viol\u00ebs.
– Erdhe, se m\u00eb dashuron akoma, apo erdhe q\u00eb t\u00eb m\u00eb \nngush\u00ebllosh, q\u00eb shp\u00ebtova nga vdekja, – e pyeti Violi.
Traqja nuk iu p\u00ebrgjigj. \nNuk ishte asnj\u00eb nj\u00ebra dhe as tjetra, ar\u00ebsyeja e ardhjes s\u00eb tij.
Q\u00eb nuk e \ndashuron m\u00eb, kjo nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb e nevojshme edhe t\u00eb pohohet, derisa ai e kishte \nstrukur thell\u00eb n\u00eb skutat e harres\u00ebs s\u00eb memories, n\u00ebn pesh\u00ebn e r\u00ebnd\u00eb t\u00eb \nzhg\u00ebnjimit t\u00eb madh. Por, asnj\u00ebher\u00eb nuk e urreu, q\u00eb t\u00eb vinte tani, p\u00ebr ta \n…ngush\u00eblluar p\u00ebr fatkeq\u00ebsin\u00eb e aksidentit.
S\u00ebrish nuk iu p\u00ebrgjigj, por \nedhe syt\u00eb nuk i hoqi nga v\u00ebshtrimi i saj.
– T\u00eb kujtohet? At\u00eb moment q\u00eb m\u00eb \nthe t\u00eb ikja, m\u00eb pohove, q\u00eb nuk mund t\u00eb m\u00eb shikosh erotiko, nuk mund t\u00eb jem i \ndashuri yt, por mbetem njeriu m\u00eb i \u00e7muar p\u00ebr ty. – i tha Traqja, pas nj\u00eb \nnd\u00ebrkohe heshtjeje t\u00eb gjat\u00eb.
– Erdhe t\u00eb m\u00eb ngush\u00ebllosh, at\u00ebhere?
– \nVioleta, m\u00eb dhimbesh, si njeri, ndaj, sa m\u00ebsova q\u00eb u aksidentove, erdha pran\u00eb \nteje.
– \u201cVioleta\u201d, \u00eb! Nuk jam m\u00eb p\u00ebr ty \u201cVioli\u201d yt? – iu p\u00ebrgjigj Violi me \nnj\u00eb z\u00eb t\u00eb mekur.
Traqja nuk reagoi.
– E di, q\u00eb, kur isha n\u00eb koma, shikoja \nvet\u00ebm fytyr\u00ebn t\u00ebnde. Un\u00eb vrapoja t\u00eb t\u00eb kapja, por ty, sa un\u00eb t\u00eb prekja, m\u00eb \ntreteshe. At\u00ebhere, un\u00eb b\u00ebrtisja \u201cTraqe, prit\u00ebm\u201d, por nuk kisha fuqi t\u00eb m\u00eb dilte \nz\u00ebri. Dhe, ty, nuk m\u00eb d\u00ebgjoje dot. At\u00ebhere, un\u00eb bija p\u00ebrtok\u00eb, duke zgjatur \ndor\u00ebn, q\u00eb t\u00eb m\u00eb ngrije ty. Po, ty, ishe i zem\u00ebruar me mua, q\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb, q\u00eb t\u00eb \nndoqa, ndaj nuk ma zgjate kurr\u00eb dor\u00ebn dhe m\u00eb lije rr\u00ebzuar n\u00eb tok\u00eb.
Traqja \nnuk reagoi. Nuk shprehu asnj\u00eb emocion, nd\u00ebrsa syt\u00eb nuk ia ndante nga fytyra e \nsaj.
– E di, q\u00eb kur u zgjua, b\u00ebrtiti vet\u00ebm emrin t\u00ebnd? – i tha vajza e \nViol\u00ebs.
Traqja, e d\u00ebgjoi dhe hesht\u00ebte, por nuk u kthye nga vajza e \nViol\u00ebs.
– Un\u00eb d\u00ebgjoja zhurm\u00eb, dhe z\u00ebra, por nuk njihja. As nuk mbaj mend. \nPor, z\u00ebrin t\u00ebnd e njihja, kur m\u00eb thoshe: \u201cPse m\u00eb ndjek? M\u00eb ftove t\u00eb vija te ty, \ndhe tani m\u00eb thua t\u00eb iki? U talle me mua?\u201d. Un\u00eb doja t\u00eb t\u00eb flisja, por z\u00ebri nuk \nm\u00eb dilte, dhe rr\u00ebzohesha, sa her\u00eb mundohesha t\u00eb t\u00eb p\u00ebrgjigjesha. Po ty, m\u00eb \nflisje vazhdimisht, pa pushim, saq\u00eb fjal\u00ebt e tua gum\u00ebzhinin jehon\u00eb n\u00eb gjumin \ntim. Nuk e di, pse, edhe n\u00eb koma q\u00eb isha, vetvetja ime i p\u00ebrs\u00ebriste fjal\u00ebt e \ntua, e un\u00eb p\u00ebrpiqesha, q\u00eb t\u00eb t\u00eb flisja, t\u00eb t\u00eb shpjegoja t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00ebn.
– K\u00eb t\u00eb \nv\u00ebrtet\u00eb?- pyeti pa vet\u00ebdije Traqja.
– Pse t\u00eb thash\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb, \u201cik\u201d!
– Nuk \nka r\u00ebnd\u00ebsi m\u00eb. Mos u mundo tani. Qet\u00ebsohu.
– Un\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb vrava vetveten \ntime. Jo vet\u00ebm ty.
– Nuk erdha t\u00eb m\u00eb shpjegohesh. Tani, nuk kan\u00eb m\u00eb vler\u00eb \nasgj\u00eb.
– Jo, nuk mund ta mbaj m\u00eb p\u00ebrbrenda. Prandaj, edhe u aksidentova. \nGrindesha me vetveten, edhe pse drejtoja makin\u00ebn me shpejt\u00ebsi, sepse un\u00eb doja t\u00eb \nt\u00eb shpjegoja, por ty ishe larg, dhe thirrja mbyllej n\u00eb vetveten time, pa \nmb\u00ebrritur dot deri te ty. Pastaj, at\u00eb \u00e7ast, sa humba vetkontrollin. Isha me \nshpejt\u00ebsi n\u00eb kthes\u00eb, dhe, pastaj, nuk mbaj mend asgj\u00eb.
Traqja nuk shprehte \nasnj\u00eb emocion. Kishte ngrir\u00eb.
– T\u00eb kujtohet, at\u00eb nat\u00eb, kur shkonim nga \naerodrome, te sht\u00ebpia?
Traqja e shikonte i pafraz\u00eb, pa shprehur asnj\u00eb \nemocion.
– T\u00eb kujtohet, q\u00eb m\u00eb iku drejtimi i makin\u00ebs, kur ty m\u00eb puthje, dhe \ndesh u p\u00ebrplas\u00ebm n\u00eb barrierat e rrug\u00ebs?
S\u00ebrish Traqja nuk reagoi, por e \nv\u00ebshtronte i humbur.
– Ti b\u00ebrtite, ti u trembe. Un\u00eb kisha ti pran\u00eb, u mbajta \ntek t\u00eb puthurat e tua, prandaj nuk u p\u00ebrplas\u00ebm me makin\u00eb. K\u00ebsaj here, ti nuk m\u00eb \nputhe, edhe pse me ti bisedoja, edhe pse me ti ngrindesha n\u00eb monologjet e mia, \ndhe, prandaj u p\u00ebrplasa\u2026Ti m\u00eb vrave, sepse nuk m\u00eb puthje m\u00eb, q\u00eb t\u00eb m\u00eb \nmbaje\u2026.
– Violeta, nuk erdha, q\u00eb t\u00eb ushqesh ndonj\u00eb iluzion, – Traqja nuk \nmundt\u00ebte ta lejonte m\u00eb Viol\u00ebn t\u00eb l\u00ebndohej te e kaluara, ta ngarkonte me \nemocione, aq m\u00eb tep\u00ebr, n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb gjendje.
– Kaq shum\u00eb t\u00eb kam dashur, sa ty, \nasnj\u00ebher\u00eb nuk do ta kuptosh dot.
Traqja n\u00ebnqeshi, sado u mundua q\u00eb ta fsheh\u00eb \nnjer\u00ebzish\u00ebm ironin\u00eb.
– T\u00eb pash\u00eb, q\u00eb qeshe me ironi, ngaq\u00eb nuk m\u00eb beson. Dhe, \nke t\u00eb drejt\u00eb q\u00eb t\u00eb mos m\u00eb besosh. Ti akoma mendon, se un\u00eb u talla me ty, q\u00eb t\u00eb \nftova t\u00eb vije te un\u00eb dhe un\u00eb, pask\u00ebtaj, t\u00eb p\u00ebrzura nga sht\u00ebpia ime.
– \nNj\u00ebher\u00eb tjet\u00ebr, m\u00eb sqaro, n\u00ebse e ndjen kaq t\u00eb nevojshme. Tani, t\u00eb lutem, \nqet\u00ebsohu.
– T\u00ebr\u00eb k\u00ebto vite, mbart n\u00eb shpirtin tim r\u00ebndes\u00ebn e atij faji, q\u00eb \nnuk mundesha dot t\u00eb t\u00eb shpjegoja, p\u00ebrse t\u00eb thash\u00eb ik, nd\u00ebrsa shpirti im \ncop\u00ebzohej, kur ty ike v\u00ebrtet. T\u00eb doja m\u00eb shum\u00eb se vetveten time, ndaj t\u00eb thash\u00eb \nik. P\u00ebr t\u00eb mir\u00ebn t\u00ebnde, jo timen.
– T\u00eb lutem, qet\u00ebsohu. P\u00ebr asnj\u00eb m\u00eb, nuk \nkan\u00eb m\u00eb vler\u00eb shpjegimet.
– Je i lumtur tani? – e pyeti Violi dhe u mundua \nti afroj\u00eb dor\u00ebn e saj te dora e tij.
Traqja e vuri re mundimin e saj, ndaj u \nngrit, ta pengonte t\u00eb l\u00ebviste dor\u00ebn e saj nga mb\u00ebshtetja anatomike.
– E di, \nq\u00eb un\u00eb luajta rolin e keq, kur ti ike?
– K\u00eb rol?
– At\u00eb q\u00eb m\u00eb m\u00ebsove ti n\u00eb \nrrjetin social. T\u00eb kujtohet? Loj\u00ebn e likeve.
– Nuk mbaj mend asgj\u00eb.
– Un\u00eb, \ne dija q\u00eb ti m\u00eb ndiqje, edhe pse t\u00eb kisha b\u00ebr\u00eb bllok.
– Jo, jo, nuk u \ninteresova m\u00eb, kurr\u00eb.
– M\u00eb g\u00ebnjen. Un\u00eb e dija q\u00eb ti m\u00eb ndiqje. Doje t\u00eb \nm\u00ebsoje \u00e7do t\u00eb re timen.
– Jo, jo. Thjesht, me shp\u00ebrfilljen, p\u00ebrpiqesha t\u00eb t\u00eb \nharroja, edhe pse l\u00ebndohesha, sa her\u00eb, q\u00eb t\u00eb kujtoja.
– E shikon, q\u00eb e \npranon? Q\u00eb akoma m\u00eb doje.
– Jo. M\u00eb l\u00ebndonte shum\u00eb sjellja jote. Isha bollsh\u00ebk \np\u00ebrbrenda, q\u00eb t\u00eb t\u00eb ndjeja sado pak ty.
Nuk doja t\u2019i pohoja se \u00e7far\u00eb mendoja \np\u00ebr t\u00eb, pas asaj nate. Nuk mund ta besoja kurr\u00eb, q\u00eb ajo ushqeu ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb \nndjenj\u00eb t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00eb dashurie p\u00ebr mua. As kur ishte studente. Sepse, as at\u00ebhere \nnuk u p\u00ebrpoq, nuk luftoi p\u00ebr ndjenj\u00ebn e saj. N\u00eb v\u00ebshtir\u00ebsin\u00eb m\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb, ajo e \nmohoi ndjenj\u00ebn. E mohoi, sepse nuk e kishte ndjer\u00eb, nuk e kishte ushqyer \ndashurin\u00eb e saj. Edhe her\u00ebn e dyt\u00eb, at\u00eb nat\u00eb, ajo nuk kishte ndjenj\u00eb p\u00ebr mua. \nNdoshta kishte vet\u00ebm egoiz\u00ebm. Ndjenja, p\u00ebr t\u00eb, u p\u00ebrdor si Let\u00ebr Higjenike. \nFatkeq\u00ebsisht, ndodh jo rrall\u00eb, Q\u00eb ka edhe njer\u00ebz, q\u00eb Ndjenjat i p\u00ebrdorin si \nLetra Higjenike, P\u00ebr t’u sh\u00ebrbyer vet\u00ebm Nevojave t\u00eb \u00c7astit, duke zhg\u00ebnjer, \nk\u00ebsisoj, edhe Vetveten Edhe Tjetrin\/\u00ebn q\u00eb e besoi. Dhe m\u00eb keq. Q\u00eb Ndjenj\u00ebn e \nshp\u00ebrdorojn\u00eb, si\u00e7 p\u00ebrdorin Letr\u00ebn Higjenike, duke e p\u00ebrk\u00ebmbur, q\u00eb at\u00eb moment, \ndhe e flakin si send t\u00eb mbaruari …pun\u00ebn, pa ndjer\u00eb aspak brejtje n\u00eb \nnd\u00ebrgjegje, (n\u00ebse kan\u00eb nd\u00ebrgjegje). M\u00eb keq. Lig\u00ebsin\u00eb e Shpirtit e demonstrojn\u00eb, \nkur Ndjenj\u00ebn e sh\u00ebnonj\u00eb edhe “gol” n\u00eb Favor t\u00eb Lig\u00ebsis\u00eb s\u00eb tyre, dhe Braktisjen \nndaj tjetrit\/\u00ebs, si “Triumf” t\u00eb tyre.
– Un\u00eb, doja, q\u00eb t\u00eb t\u00eb bindja, q\u00eb ti t\u00eb \nm\u00eb harroje, t\u00eb largoheshe p\u00ebrgjithmon\u00eb nga un\u00eb, kund\u00ebr ndjenj\u00ebs q\u00eb ndjeja p\u00ebr \nty. K\u00ebt\u00eb e b\u00ebja p\u00ebr ty, edhe pse e dija q\u00eb vrisja shpirtin tim. Ndaj, luaja \nloj\u00ebn e likeve. U vendosja like n\u00eb postimet e tyre t\u00eb gjith\u00eb atyre burrave, q\u00eb \nsi\u00e7 thoshe ti, admironin bukurin\u00eb time. P\u00ebr t\u00eb t\u00eb ngacmuar fantazin\u00eb t\u00ebnde, q\u00eb \nta b\u00ebja m\u00eb t\u00eb besuesh\u00ebm ikjen time nga ty. Si\u00e7 b\u00ebnin me ty, shoqet e tua. Q\u00eb \ndisa, q\u00eb t\u00eb admironin, t\u00eb vendosnin kudo dhe p\u00ebrher\u00eb like. Un\u00eb, v\u00ebrtet, b\u00ebhesha \nkaq xheloze, sepse e dija q\u00eb luaja me ndjenjat tona. Ndaj, nga zem\u00ebrimi ndaj \nvetvetes, shkruajta p\u00ebr ty: \u201cIshe p\u00ebr mua gjigand, por u b\u00ebre papritur \n…milingon\u00eb. T\u00eb uroj t\u00eb jesh i lumtur me mikeshat e tua\u201d. E kuptova, pak m\u00eb \nvon\u00eb, q\u00eb t\u00eb ekspozova pa t\u00eb drejt\u00eb, por ngaq\u00eb nuk e kontrolloja dot m\u00eb zem\u00ebrimin \ntim ndaj vetvetes. Ndaj, e fshiva pas pak or\u00ebsh at\u00eb postim. Mir\u00ebpo, ti, e kishe \nmarr\u00eb mesazhin e zem\u00ebrimit tim, dhe reagove, duke shkruar: \u201cGjigand nuk isha \nasnj\u00ebher\u00eb, por as milingon\u00eb nuk b\u00ebhem kurr\u00eb\u201d. K\u00ebshtu kuptova, q\u00eb ti m\u00eb lexoje. \nPor, prap\u00eb, un\u00eb \u00ebnd\u00ebrroja daashurin\u00eb p\u00ebr ty, dashurin\u00eb, q\u00eb e vrava, p\u00ebr t\u00eb mos \nprishur lumturin\u00eb t\u00ebnde.
– Flet, p\u00ebr\u00e7at tani. P\u00ebr \u00e7far\u00eb lumturi timen, kur ti \nmohove ndjenj\u00ebn ton\u00eb?
– Jo, jo. Nuk flas p\u00ebr\u00e7at. Tani nuk jam m\u00eb n\u00eb koma. \nNdaj, nj\u00eb her\u00eb shkruajta: Nuk ke dashuruar. Nuk ke jetuar. Ai, Ajo, q\u00eb kan\u00eb \ndashuruar, edhe pse kan\u00eb ndjer\u00eb dhimbje t\u00eb madhe, gjithmon\u00eb do t\u00eb k\u00ebrkojn\u00eb \ndehjen e Erot\u00ebs, q\u00eb ta rindjej\u00eb, q\u00eb ta rijetoj\u00eb. Akoma, edhe kur p\u00ebrpiqesh q\u00eb ta \ngropos\u00ebsh thell\u00eb shpirtit t\u00ebnd, dhe t\u00eb zotohesh tek vetvetja, se nuk do t\u00eb \ndashurosh s\u00ebrish. \u00c7do her\u00eb q\u00eb vendos, zjarri i Erot\u00ebs, nuk do t\u00eb shuhet kurr\u00ebn \nbrenda Shpirtit t\u00ebnd. \u00c7do her\u00eb, q\u00eb do t\u2019i betohesh vetvetes, se do t\u2019i jap\u00ebsh \nnj\u00eb fund k\u00ebsaj ndjenje, Erota do t\u00eb t\u00eb ndez\u00eb nj\u00eb zjarr p\u00ebrbrenda Q\u00ebnies t\u00ebnde \ndhe do t\u00eb t\u00eb bind\u00eb, q\u00eb t\u00eb ndjesh sa nevoj\u00eb e ke Erot\u00ebn. \u00c7do her\u00eb q\u00eb do t\u00eb ndjesh \nLlav\u00ebn e Erot\u00ebs, t\u00eb t\u00eb ngjiz\u00eb gjakun n\u00ebp\u00ebr trup do t\u00eb jesh nj\u00eb organiz\u00ebm i \npambrojtur, por ve\u00e7se mundohesh q\u00eb t\u00eb marr\u00ebsh paksa g\u00ebzim nga dhimbja e humbjes \ns\u00eb Erot\u00ebs. Erota nuk ngroh Zemra. Erota djeg Zemra, qelizat e saj. Erotas \u00ebsht\u00eb \nMagjia e Shpirtit. Nuk dashurove, Nuk ke jetuar kurr\u00eb\u2026
Traqja u ngrit nga \nkarrikja, dhe b\u00ebri disa l\u00ebvizje p\u00ebr t\u2019u \u00e7mpir\u00eb.
– U lodhe, duke m\u00eb \nd\u00ebgjuar?
– Lodh kotasi vetveten. Nuk kan\u00eb m\u00eb vler\u00eb p\u00ebr asnj\u00eb.
– Ti, a do \nt\u00eb dish t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00ebn, pse un\u00eb t\u00eb thash\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb, t\u00eb ik\u00ebsh, kur zemra dhe shpirti \nim, t\u00eb donin sa vet\u00eb jeta?
– Jo, jo, nuk dua m\u00eb asnj\u00eb t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00eb. Nuk m\u00eb \ninteresojn\u00eb. \u00c7do ndjenj\u00eb e jona u tret n\u00eb err\u00ebsir\u00ebn e asaj nate.
– Tani, q\u00eb \njam e sh\u00ebmtuar, nuk do t\u00eb m\u00eb p\u00eblqej\u00eb asnj\u00eb, – tha me z\u00eb t\u00eb gul\u00e7uar Violi.
– \nDuhet t\u00eb ndihesh e lumtur, q\u00eb shp\u00ebtove. T\u00eb tjerat, pak r\u00ebnd\u00ebsi kan\u00eb.
– Jo. \nTani q\u00eb humba bukurin\u00eb, p\u00ebrse duhet t\u00eb jetoj m\u00eb?
– Njeriu bukurin\u00eb e ka n\u00eb \nshpirt. Ti, deri tani, nuk e ke par\u00eb at\u00eb bukuri. Ke dashur m\u00eb shum\u00eb bukurin\u00eb \nfizike.
– At\u00eb doni, ju meshkujt, nga ne femrat.
Traqja qeshi me n\u00ebnz\u00eb, \npor nuk foli.
Violi sa her\u00eb e pyeste Traqen, kur flisnin me kamera, se a do \nta p\u00eblqente ai, kur ta shikonte nga af\u00ebr? Se, nga af\u00ebr, nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb kaq e bukur, \nsa t\u00eb d\u00ebfton fotografia dhe kamera. Traqja i thoshte p\u00ebrher\u00eb, q\u00eb ai nuk e \nzgjodhi ngaq\u00eb ishte e bukur, por ngaq\u00eb ishte Violi i tij. Do ta donte p\u00ebrher\u00eb, \nsi\u00e7 ishte, derisa bukurin\u00eb e saj e shikon te ndjenja q\u00eb i dhuron.
– E di, q\u00eb \nm\u00eb kan\u00eb qepur fytyr\u00ebn? Dhe mjeku m\u00eb tha, q\u00eb v\u00ebshtir\u00eb kjo e qepur t\u00eb m\u00eb ik\u00eb, por \ndo t\u00eb l\u00ebr\u00eb gjurm\u00eb t\u00eb thella dhe do t\u00eb dukem e sh\u00ebmtuar p\u00ebrher\u00eb.
– Lumturohu \nq\u00eb shp\u00ebtove.
– Do t\u00eb m\u00eb ndihmosh ti, t\u00eb b\u00ebj ndonj\u00eb operacion plastik n\u00eb \nfytyr\u00eb, q\u00eb t\u00eb fshij gjurm\u00ebt e aksidentit?
– Violeta, \u00e7do ndihm\u00eb q\u00eb do duash \np\u00ebr sh\u00ebndetin, do t\u00eb mundohem, aq sa mundem.
-V\u00ebrtet?
– Un\u00eb nuk ta kam \nngr\u00ebn\u00eb asnj\u00ebher\u00eb fjal\u00ebn q\u00eb t\u00eb kam dh\u00ebn\u00eb. Ti, po, sa her\u00eb.
– As un\u00eb, \nasnj\u00ebher\u00eb! Po e di q\u00eb vet\u00ebm ti e ke n\u00eb dor\u00eb, t\u00eb m\u00eb sh\u00ebrosh edhe plag\u00ebt q\u00eb kam \nun\u00eb n\u00eb fytyr\u00eb?
– Nuk jam mjek.
– Je.
– Mir\u00eb, qet\u00ebsohu.
– Ti je \nmjeku i shpirtit tim. Shpirtin kam m\u00eb t\u00eb vrar\u00eb, sesa plag\u00ebt n\u00eb trup. Vet\u00ebm ti, \ntani mund ta sh\u00ebrosh shpirtin tim. Vet\u00ebm ti.
– Mir\u00eb, mir\u00eb.
– Na, lexo \nk\u00ebt\u00eb, – i tha Violi dhe i d\u00ebftoi me sy t\u00eb merrte celularin e saj, i cili ishte \nmbi komodin\u00eb.
Traqja nuk l\u00ebvizi. Nuk donte t\u00eb m\u00ebsonte asgj\u00eb nga e \nkaluara.
– M\u00ebso, p\u00ebrse un\u00eb t\u00eb thash\u00eb ik, at\u00eb nat\u00eb. M\u00ebsoje, q\u00eb t\u00eb kuptosh, sa \nshum\u00eb un\u00eb t\u00eb doja, saq\u00eb sakrifikova vetveten p\u00ebr lumturin\u00eb t\u00ebnde.
Di\u00e7ka e \ntrazoi p\u00ebrbrenda Traqen. Ishte hera e par\u00eb, pas 4 viteve, q\u00eb ai s\u00ebrish donte t\u00eb \nm\u00ebsonte t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00ebn. Pa hamendjet, q\u00eb e kishin l\u00ebnduar kaq shum\u00eb dhe kaq \ngjat\u00eb.
Vajza e Viol\u00ebs erdhi dhe i dha celularin e Viol\u00ebs.
– Para se t\u00eb \nlexosh, do t\u00eb m\u00eb \u00e7osh deri n\u00eb tualet? – i tha Violi.
– Si t\u00eb t\u00eb \u00e7oj un\u00eb n\u00eb \ntualet?
– T\u00eb m\u00eb marr\u00ebsh n\u00eb krah\u00eb, si\u00e7 m\u00eb more at\u00eb nat\u00eb dhe m\u00eb \u00e7ove te \nkrevati.
– Jo, nuk mundem. Duhet t\u00eb t\u00eb \u00e7oj\u00eb infermeria.
– Jo, un\u00eb dua me \nty. T\u00eb vjen turp, t\u00eb m\u00eb marr\u00ebsh prap\u00eb n\u00eb duar?
– Jo, nuk mundem.
– T\u00eb \nprovokova. Un\u00eb akoma nuk \u00e7ohem dot.
Traqja nuk foli, por uli syt\u00eb.
Violi \nnj\u00ebfar\u00ebsoj, i kujtonte Traqes gjith\u00e7ka q\u00eb b\u00ebn\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb. Pa u ndruajtur aspak \nnga vajza e saj.
N\u00eb fakt, Violi nuk u kishte fshehur asgj\u00eb vajz\u00ebs s\u00eb saj p\u00ebr \nmarr\u00ebdh\u00ebniet me Traqen. Madje, nj\u00eb her\u00eb, kur Traqja i b\u00ebri ftes\u00eb n\u00eb kamera, iu \np\u00ebrgjigj vajza e Violit.
Vajza e Viol\u00ebs i d\u00ebftoi Traqes t\u00eb hapte disa \nfoto.
Ishin fotografi t\u00eb dialog\u00ebve nga mesenger.
Traqja ngriu me celular \nn\u00eb dor\u00eb, kur lexoi se d\u00ebrguesi i mesazheve n\u00eb mesenger ishte djali i tij. \nMarr\u00ebsja ishte Violi.
– \u00c7jan\u00eb k\u00ebto mesazhe? – pyeti Traqja Viol\u00ebn i \ntronditur.
– Mesazhet, q\u00eb m\u00eb d\u00ebrgoi at\u00eb nat\u00eb djali yt.
– Kur at\u00eb \nnat\u00eb?
– Ende pa mb\u00ebrritur ti n\u00eb aeroport.
– Dhe?…
– Djali yt kishte \nlexuar dialog\u00ebt tan\u00eb n\u00eb mesenger. Ai e dinte q\u00eb ti do vije at\u00eb nat\u00eb te un\u00eb dhe \njo n\u00eb familjen t\u00ebnde.
– \u00c7far\u00eb? Si \u00ebsht\u00eb e mundur?
– Djali yt m\u00eb tha, q\u00eb \nkishte kodin e mesengerit t\u00ebnd.
– Pse nuk ma the q\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb?
– Un\u00eb \nprandaj kisha ngrir\u00eb, sa u takuam n\u00eb aeroport.
– Dhe, nuk m\u00eb the asgj\u00eb \naty?…
– Nuk doja t\u00eb prishja magjin\u00eb e dashuris\u00eb ton\u00eb. Ndjenj\u00eb ndjenja dhe \nduhet ta jetonim, sado pak. Nuk doja t\u00eb t\u00eb humbisja si her\u00ebn e par\u00eb, q\u00eb nuk t\u00eb \ndhash\u00eb dot asnj\u00eb t\u00eb puthur.
– Nuk t\u00eb kuptoj?…
– Djali yt, kur ty fjete, \nm\u00eb d\u00ebrgoi nj\u00eb mesazh, q\u00eb m\u00eb b\u00ebri t\u00eb t\u00eb thosha ik, at\u00eb m\u00ebngjez.
– \u00c7far\u00eb \nmesazhi?
– Lexoje…. – dhe i tha me sy vajz\u00ebs, q\u00eb t\u00eb m\u00eb d\u00ebftonte di\u00e7ka n\u00eb \ncelular.
Midis fotografive t\u00eb dialog\u00ebve t\u00eb mesengerit, Traqja gjeti edhe \nmesazhin e djalit.
\u201cI ke pyetur f\u00ebmij\u00ebt e tu, si ndihen, kur u ka munguar \nbabai? Q\u00eb u rrit\u00ebn me munges\u00ebn e tij? Ty nuk duhet t\u00eb na marr\u00ebsh babain nga \nfamilja jon\u00eb. Nuk mund t\u00eb ndihesh ty e lumtur, kur ne t\u00eb vuajm\u00eb munges\u00ebn e \nbabait ton\u00eb, pse e rr\u00ebmben ty nga ne\u201d.
Traqja ngriu. Sa i ra celulari n\u00eb \ntok\u00eb.
– Prandaj, m\u00eb the, ik?… – mundi t\u00eb belb\u00ebzoj\u00eb. – Dhe un\u00eb, besova, se \nm\u00eb ndoqe, ngaq\u00eb nuk m\u00eb doje…
– Lexo edhe si e shpresoja t\u00eb t\u00eb takoja \ns\u00ebrish. Nuk e di kur? Ndoshta, asnj\u00ebher\u00eb. Por, gjithnj\u00eb t\u00eb kam pritur. Edhe pse \ne dija, q\u00eb mund t\u00eb mos vije m\u00eb kurr\u00eb te un\u00eb. Po ti, ishe p\u00ebr mua, e vetmja \nshpres\u00eb t\u00eb jetoja akoma…
Vajza e Viol\u00ebs, i d\u00ebftoi nj\u00eb fotografi t\u00eb nj\u00eb \npostimi t\u00eb Violit. E pas disa dit\u00ebsh, nga ajo nat\u00eb.
\u201cTi je diku larg, Dhe, \nn\u00ebqoft\u00ebse vjen, sikurse n\u00eb dit\u00ebt q\u00eb jetuam, Kam edhe tani nj\u00eb p\u00ebrqafim p\u00ebr Ty. \nAty, ku akoma \u00ebsht\u00eb e pathar\u00eb, e Puthura Jon\u00eb. Mos m\u00eb ik, m\u00eb, s\u00ebrish, Do t\u00eb ta \nthem \u00e7do her\u00eb: \u2013 JAM K\u00cbTU VET\u00cbM E VET\u00cb P\u00cbR T\u00cb T\u00cb DH\u00cbN\u00cb TY NJ\u00cb P\u00cbRQAFIM, NJE \nPUTHJE. Eja, t\u00eb shikosh shpirtin tim, E kam zbrazur nga te gjith\u00eb dhe nga t\u00eb \ngjitha\u2026 Vet\u00ebm e vet\u00ebm, q\u00eb t\u00eb kesh Ti gjith\u00eb shpirtin tim. Digjet p\u00ebrbrenda, duke \nu madh\u00ebsuar ajo pse-ja e Ikjes t\u00ebnde. Dhe n\u00eb mes t\u00eb hirit t\u00eb k\u00ebtij zjarri te \nshpirti im, Ty do t\u00eb gjesh P\u00ebrgjegj\u00ebsin\u00eb T\u00ebnde\u201d.
– Nuk m\u2019u p\u00ebrgjigje, kur t\u00eb \npyeta. A je i lumtur? – Violi e ngriti z\u00ebrin dhe u mundua t\u00eb ngrihej brinjazi n\u00eb \nkrevatin e saj, p\u00ebr t\u00eb q\u00ebn\u00eb p\u00ebrball\u00eb Traqes.
– Jetoj n\u00eb emigrim shpirt\u00ebror. \nLarg t\u00eb gjith\u00ebve. Duke mbartur pesh\u00eb p\u00ebrbrenda meje t\u00eb gjitha p\u00ebrgjegj\u00ebsit\u00eb. \nEdhe t\u00eb miat. Edhe t\u00ebnden. Edhe t\u00eb t\u00eb tjer\u00ebve.
– M\u00eb ke falur tani, mua?
– \nFalje, q\u00eb nuk ka m\u00eb vler\u00eb, as p\u00ebr ty, as p\u00ebr mua, tashm\u00eb.
– Nuk mundesha dot \nm\u00eb, t\u00eb mbartja r\u00ebndes\u00eb faji. Prandaj, edhe kur isha n\u00eb koma, ty shikoja. Ty \nd\u00ebgjoja. Ty ndiqja, p\u00ebr t\u00eb t\u00eb kapur dhe doja t\u00eb mb\u00ebshtetesha te ty, q\u00eb t\u00eb mos \nrr\u00ebzohesha. Ndoshta kjo p\u00ebrpjekje, t\u00eb t\u00eb gjeja ty, m\u00eb zgjoi edhe nga koma. Ty \nth\u00ebrrisja me llahtar\u00eb, edhe kur u zgjova. Ti m\u00eb zgjove nga koma pathologjike. \nJo, ve\u00e7se nga koma e ndjenjave. Ato i vram\u00eb at\u00eb nat\u00eb, p\u00ebrgjithmon\u00eb. E di, mos ma \nthuaj. Por, edhe pse nuk u b\u00ebre njeriu im i jet\u00ebs, dua t\u00eb jesh njeriu im m\u00eb i \n\u00e7muar. Ta k\u00ebrkova edhe at\u00eb nat\u00eb, por ti, nga zem\u00ebrimi ma mohove. Dhe, ike i \nzem\u00ebruar. Sot, nuk mund t\u00eb m\u00eb ik\u00ebsh, pa m\u00eb dh\u00ebn\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb fjal\u00eb.
– Violi, sa \nher\u00eb t\u00eb kesh nevoj\u00eb p\u00ebr ndihm\u00eb, m\u00eb th\u00ebrrit. Un\u00eb do vij, edhe me k\u00ebmb\u00eb, edhe duke \nfluturuar te ty, sado dete t\u00eb na ndajn\u00eb.
Traqja u mundua t\u00eb fshij\u00eb lag\u00ebshtin\u00eb \ne lotit. Q\u00eb Violi t\u00eb mos e shikonte lotin e syrit t\u00eb tij.
Ngadal\u00eb, si\u00e7 hyri, \nhapi der\u00ebn dhe doli n\u00eb korridor.
Agimi i dit\u00ebs s\u00eb re, kishte tretur \nerr\u00ebsir\u00ebn e nat\u00ebs.
Si at\u00eb t\u00eb gdhir\u00eb t\u00eb asaj nate, edhe sot, Traqja gjendet \ns\u00ebrish n\u00eb rrug\u00ebn e kthimit. N\u00eb emigrimin e tij shpirt\u00ebror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dikur, kur t\u00eb mbetesh e \nvetmuar n\u00eb egoizmin T\u00ebnd, do t\u00eb m\u00ebsosh, pse je e humbur, n\u00eb maj\u00ebn e thik\u00ebs, n\u00eb \nnd\u00ebrkoh\u00ebn q\u00eb ajo l\u00eb vrazhdat e l\u00ebngimit n\u00eb Shpirtin T\u00ebnd, kur nd\u00ebrkoh\u00eb, ata, q\u00eb \nti u besove zemr\u00ebn, k\u00ebrcejn\u00eb mbi kufom\u00ebn e ndenjave t\u00eb tua t\u00eb pakkallur.
Do \nta kuptosh q\u00eb Ti nga Un\u00eb ike me trenin e gabuar, pa prer\u00eb as bilet\u00ebn e \nP\u00ebrcjelljes Ton\u00eb.
Q\u00eb t\u00eb t\u00eb mos gjente agimi i dit\u00ebs s\u00eb re, mb\u00ebshtetur n\u00eb \nkraharorin tim, dhe, tanim\u00eb, rri e strukur n\u00eb stolin e Pritjes t\u00eb nj\u00eb treni \ntjet\u00ebr\u2026
Do ta kuptosh edhe Ti, q\u00eb disa njer\u00ebzve u dhe mund\u00ebsin\u00eb, t\u00eb hipnin n\u00eb \ntrenin e jet\u00ebs t\u00ebnde, q\u00eb t\u00eb t\u00eb hidhnin nga dritarja, si nj\u00eb leck\u00eb e p\u00ebrlyer e \nepshtit, dhe t\u00eb mbeteshe t\u00ebr\u00eb jet\u00ebn, e vuajtur mbi shina, si nj\u00eb relike e \naksidentit t\u00eb Jet\u00ebs t\u00ebnde.
Nd\u00ebrsa ti do l\u00ebngosh mbi shinat e cop\u00ebzuar, e \npandjenj\u00eb, ata, q\u00eb ti u dhe trupin t\u00ebnde, do t\u00eb rrin\u00eb sehirxhinj, dhe nga \ndritarja e trenit t\u00eb jet\u00ebs t\u00ebnde, do t\u00eb soditin ty, t\u00eb shtrir\u00eb mbi \nshina\u2026
Dikur, ti do k\u00ebrkosh nj\u00eb dashuri tjet\u00ebr, q\u00eb t\u00eb shp\u00ebtosh nga l\u00ebngimi i \nshpirtit t\u00ebnd, por, e s\u00ebmur\u00eb shpirt\u00ebrisht, do t\u00eb kuptosh, q\u00eb l\u00ebngon nga nj\u00eb \ns\u00ebmundje e pash\u00ebrueshme, e cila tashm\u00eb, nuk ka therapi.
At\u00eb therapi, q\u00eb ia \nmohove shpirtit tim, kur t\u00eb dashurova me pathos, kur t\u00eb p\u00ebrqafoja me mall, kur \nt\u00eb p\u00ebrk\u00ebdhelja me etje, kur ndjenim t\u00eb dy llav\u00ebn e zjarrt\u00eb t\u00eb Erot\u00ebs \nton\u00eb\u2026
Dhe ty, tani, e l\u00ebnguar mbi shinat, do t\u00eb mundohesh t\u00eb hap\u00ebsh Fjalorin \ne Jet\u00ebs, p\u00ebr t\u00eb gjetur nj\u00eb fjal\u00eb t\u00eb paditur\u2026 Sepse deri tani, fjal\u00ebt e tua \nvdiq\u00ebn, sa nuk mund t\u00eb p\u00ebrmend\u00ebsh dot as emrin tim.
Do t\u00eb t\u00eb mungoj\u00eb ai \np\u00ebrqafim, q\u00eb do t\u00eb t\u00eb jepte at\u00eb ngroht\u00ebsi,
Sa t\u00eb harroje dhimbjet e shpirtit \nt\u00ebnd dhe dimrat e jet\u00ebs t\u00ebnde. Ndaj, tani, e braktisur mbi shinat, nuk di ku t\u00eb \nshkosh, sepse askush nuk t\u00eb pret m\u00eb krah\u00ebhapur\u2026
Dhe ngush\u00ebllimin t\u00ebnd, e gjen \nvet\u00ebm te lot\u00ebt e tua. Q\u00eb tani, as krip\u00eb, as ngjyr\u00eb nuk kan\u00eb m\u00eb lot\u00ebt e tua. Ve\u00e7 \ndhimbjen t\u00ebnde..
A do t\u00eb m\u00ebsosh, a do t\u00eb takosh, a do t\u00eb ndjesh m\u00eb Dashurin\u00eb \ne v\u00ebrtet\u00eb, At\u00eb Dashuri q\u00eb Ti m\u00eb Mohove Mua?
Sa je e gatshme, tani, t\u00eb b\u00ebsh \ngjith\u00e7ka, q\u00eb dikur, n\u00eb fjalorin t\u00ebnd t\u00eb jet\u00ebs, fjal\u00ebn \u201cSAKRIFIC\u00cb\u201d nuk e doje ta \nm\u00ebsoje kurr\u00eb?…
Do t\u00eb gdhij\u00eb m\u00eb ndonj\u00eb Agim Dite, q\u00eb ti t\u00eb t\u00eb gjej\u00eb n\u00eb \nkraharorin e Dashuris\u00eb?…
Apo, drit\u00ebn e m\u00ebngjezit, do ta pengosh me perdet e \ndritares s\u00eb dhom\u00ebs, ku nat\u00ebn u dhe, por pa ndjer\u00eb asgj\u00eb?….
Vall\u00eb, n\u00eb \n\u00ebndrrat e tua, a do t\u00eb mbijn\u00eb ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb lul\u00ebkuqe,
T\u00eb cilat \u00e7elin n\u00eb drit\u00ebn \ne dit\u00ebs s\u00eb re?….
Do t\u00eb zbardh\u00eb p\u00ebr ty ai m\u00ebngjez, q\u00eb t\u00eb edhe ty t\u00eb ndihesh \nnj\u00eb e t\u00ebr\u00eb, dhe jo gjys\u00ebm, si\u00e7 je tani?
Q\u00eb drit\u00ebs s\u00eb m\u00ebngjezit, kur t\u2019i \nthuash emrin t\u00ebnd, dhe t\u00eb mos tretesh nga l\u00ebngimi.
Si mund t\u00eb t\u00eb besoj, kur \ntani, n\u00eb boshll\u00ebkun e vetmis\u00eb t\u00ebnde, thua se Un\u00eb kam mbetur n\u00eb zemr\u00ebn \nt\u00ebnde?
Kur do t\u00eb mundesh, q\u00eb Ti t\u00eb jesh emri Yt?…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"