Ndryshe nga her\u00ebt e tjera, sot ndjeva nj\u00eb boshll\u00ebk shum\u00eb t\u00eb madh dhe vendosa t\u00eb shkruaj n\u00eb gazet\u00ebn tuaj… Nuk e di, ndoshta dikush m\u00eb kujtoi t\u00eb kaluar\u00ebn me ty, babi dhe u mall\u00ebngjeva, m\u00eb mbyti malli. P\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment t\u00eb vet\u00ebm m\u00eb erdh\u00ebn n\u00eb mendje gjith\u00eb k\u00ebto fjal\u00eb q\u00eb nisa t\u2019i shkruaj k\u00ebtu…<\/p>\n
Si shum\u00eb t\u00eb tjer\u00eb n\u00eb Shqip\u00ebri, edhe babai im mori rrug\u00ebn e kurbetit p\u00ebr nj\u00eb jet\u00eb m\u00eb t\u00eb mir\u00eb, n\u00eb vitet \u201891-\u201892. Ai jetonte n\u00eb nj\u00eb qytet t\u00eb madh n\u00eb Veri t\u00eb Italis\u00eb dhe un\u00eb e shihja shum\u00eb pak, nj\u00eb ose dy her\u00eb n\u00eb vit. K\u00ebto ishin mund\u00ebsit\u00eb…
\nPo jetoja nj\u00eb f\u00ebmij\u00ebri t\u00eb bukur si \u00e7do f\u00ebmij\u00eb tjet\u00ebr, duke luajtur e duke u zbavitur me loj\u00ebra t\u00eb ndryshme, por gjith\u00e7ka e ndryshoi jet\u00ebn time n\u00eb vitin 2003, kur mbusha plot 11 vje\u00e7e, kurse v\u00ebllai im, qe 3 vjet m\u00eb i vog\u00ebl sesa un\u00eb. Isha akoma f\u00ebmij\u00eb dhe nuk e dija se, q\u00eb nga ajo koh\u00eb, nuk do t\u00eb isha m\u00eb e lumtur. Ra telefoni dhe un\u00eb vrapova me shpejt\u00ebsi sepse e dija q\u00eb po merrte babi. Fola me mall. Ai m\u00eb pyeti: \u201c\u00c7far\u00eb po b\u00ebn, shpirti i babit? Si je? V\u00ebllai e mami, mir\u00eb? Me shkoll\u00eb, si po ia kalon?\u201d. U p\u00ebrgjigja: \u201cT\u00eb gjith\u00eb mir\u00eb jemi, babi, po ti kur do t\u00eb vish? Na ka marr\u00eb malli t\u00eb gjith\u00ebve shum\u00eb…\u201d. K\u00ebshtu i thoja gjithmon\u00eb. Nd\u00ebrsa k\u00ebrkoja n\u00ebp\u00ebr dhoma p\u00ebr t\u00eb gjetur mamin, q\u00eb nuk ishte aty, p\u00ebr \u00e7udi, telefonata u mbyll. Nuk e dija se ishte hera e fundit q\u00eb po flisja me babin. Kurr\u00eb s\u2019e mendoja. Ndoshta ai kishte nj\u00eb parandjenj\u00eb q\u00eb mund t\u00eb ndodhte di\u00e7ka. Kur erdhi mami, i tregova dhe i ram\u00eb telefonit p\u00ebrs\u00ebri, por nuk p\u00ebrgjigjej njeri. Me shpres\u00ebn se do t\u00eb ishte n\u00eb pun\u00eb, mami tha se do ta provonte p\u00ebrs\u00ebri m\u00eb von\u00eb. K\u00ebshtu, kaluan disa or\u00eb dhe e mori p\u00ebrs\u00ebri n\u00eb telefon. At\u00ebhere arrit\u00ebn t\u00eb flisnin dhe, sikur ta ndjente \u00e7far\u00eb do t\u00eb ndodhte, ai i thoshte mamit: \u201cKujdes kalamajt\u00eb\u201d, sikur po i linte amanetet e fundit prej s\u00eb largu. N\u00eb mes t\u00eb muajit maj, ndodhi aksidenti. Ai ndenji disa dit\u00eb n\u00eb koma e nuk mundi dot t\u00eb shp\u00ebtonte. Fal\u00ebnderoj t\u00eb gjith\u00eb ata q\u00eb i ndenj\u00ebn af\u00ebr n\u00eb momentet e fundit t\u00eb jet\u00ebs, por mallkoj at\u00eb vend q\u00eb i mori jet\u00ebn p\u00ebrgjithmon\u00eb…
\nKur na lajm\u00ebruan, telefonin e ngriti mami dhe pas nj\u00eb \u201calo\u201d-je, d\u00ebgjova nj\u00eb ul\u00ebrim\u00eb t\u00eb fort\u00eb q\u00eb i doli nga shpirti. Ishte nj\u00eb britm\u00eb e fuqishme nga zemra e saj. Vrapova pran\u00eb saj dhe e pyeta se \u00e7far\u00eb kishte ndodhur, por ajo nuk fliste fare, vet\u00ebm m\u00eb shikonte dhe qante pa pushim. U ula n\u00eb gjunj\u00eb n\u00eb tok\u00eb pran\u00eb saj dhe iu p\u00ebrgj\u00ebrova: \u201cMami, t\u00eb lutem, m\u00eb trego, \u00e7far\u00eb ka ndodhur?\u201d. Ajo nuk fliste, por vet\u00ebm m\u00eb shikonte e qante. Lot\u00ebt e saj m\u00eb vrisnin. Nuk doja ta shihja kurr\u00eb n\u00eb at\u00eb gjendje. Papritmas, m\u00eb tha e p\u00ebrlotur nj\u00eb fjali: \u201cShpirti i mamit, tashm\u00eb jemi tre, vet\u00ebm un\u00eb, ti dhe v\u00ebllai\u201d. Nuk e kuptoja dot \u00e7far\u00eb kishte ndodhur, por fillova edhe un\u00eb t\u00eb qaja bashk\u00eb me t\u00eb. Dit\u00ebt kalonin dhe shpresa q\u00eb babi t\u00eb shp\u00ebtonte ishte e madhe, por doktor\u00ebt kishin b\u00ebr\u00eb gjith\u00e7ka q\u00eb kishin n\u00eb dor\u00eb e megjithat\u00eb, ai u nda nga jeta. Peng n\u00eb zem\u00ebr m\u00eb ka mbetur q\u00eb nuk munda dot t\u2019i q\u00ebndroja pran\u00eb, n\u00eb momentet e tij t\u00eb fundit. Andej p\u00ebrgatiteshin dokumentet q\u00eb trupi t\u00eb vinte n\u00eb Shqip\u00ebri, nd\u00ebrsa sht\u00ebpia ime u vesh e gjitha n\u00eb t\u00eb zeza, hapi dyert e zis\u00eb. V\u00ebllai, q\u00eb ishte i vog\u00ebl, q\u00ebndronte gjithmon\u00eb mbas meje e qanim bashk\u00eb t\u00eb dy. Erdhi momenti q\u00eb arkivoli do t\u00eb vinte n\u00eb sht\u00ebpi, disa t\u00eb af\u00ebrm t\u00eb mi m\u00eb larguan nga sht\u00ebpia te nj\u00eb i af\u00ebrm, q\u00eb t\u00eb mos e shikoja at\u00eb sken\u00eb, por mua nuk m\u00eb mbante vendi dhe ika fshehurazi me vrap duke qar\u00eb drejt sht\u00ebpis\u00eb sime. Hyra n\u00eb sht\u00ebpi, megjith\u00ebse t\u00eb gjith\u00eb p\u00ebrpiqeshin t\u00eb m\u00eb ndalonin. Nuk d\u00ebgjoja asnj\u00eb. M\u00eb kujtohet gjith\u00e7ka si tani, q\u00eb i thash\u00eb dikujt q\u00eb m\u00eb shtr\u00ebngoi fort pran\u00eb vetes: \u201cM\u00eb l\u00ebsho!\u201d.
\nHyra n\u00eb dhom\u00eb dhe pash\u00eb njer\u00ebz t\u00eb veshur me t\u00eb zeza. Mami im q\u00ebndronte n\u00eb krye t\u00eb dhom\u00ebs me lot n\u00eb sy. Kur hyra brenda, e d\u00ebgjova t\u00eb qante me z\u00eb: \u201cT\u00eb erdhi vajza jote, zgjohu, hapi syt\u00eb\u201d. Shikoja fotografin\u00eb sip\u00ebr arkivolit, e putha fort dhe aty m\u00eb ra t\u00eb fik\u00ebt. Kur u zgjova, isha b\u00ebr\u00eb gjith\u00eb uj\u00eb. Po vinte ora q\u00eb babin do ta p\u00ebrcillnim p\u00ebr n\u00eb banes\u00ebn e fundit. Nj\u00eb varg i madh me njer\u00ebz e shoq\u00ebronte. Jam kenare p\u00ebr t\u00eb edhe tani, sepse ishte unik, shembull p\u00ebr t\u00eb gjith\u00eb. N\u00eb duarm bashk\u00eb me v\u00ebllainm mbanim nj\u00eb buqet\u00eb ku shkruhej: \u201cKujtim nga f\u00ebmij\u00ebt\u201d. V\u00ebllai m\u00eb shtr\u00ebngonte fort e qante mbas meje. Jeta na d\u00ebnoi n\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00ebn m\u00eb t\u00eb tmerrshme. Fal\u00ebnderoj shum\u00eb n\u00ebn\u00ebn time ka b\u00ebr\u00eb nj\u00eb jet\u00eb t\u00eb dyfisht\u00eb, ka qen\u00eb p\u00ebr ne t\u00eb dy edhe n\u00ebn\u00eb, edhe baba dhe m\u00eb dhemb shpirti kur e shikoj t\u00eb mbuluar me lot n\u00eb sy. Sa jet\u00eb e trisht\u00eb! Nuk resht kurr\u00eb s\u00eb menduari p\u00ebr tim at\u00eb, p\u00ebr t\u00eb cilin kam nj\u00eb plag\u00eb t\u00eb madhe n\u00eb shpirt. Tani ndjej m\u00eb shum\u00eb dhimbje sepse jam rritur, gj\u00ebrat i shikoj me tjet\u00ebr sy dhe kuptoj m\u00eb shum\u00eb. Jeta na d\u00ebnoi si familje q\u00eb t\u00eb na mungonte, si thon\u00eb edhe t\u00eb vjetrit, shtylla e sht\u00ebpis\u00eb, por ne do t\u00eb jemi gjithmon\u00eb t\u00eb bashkuar e do t\u00eb luftojm\u00eb p\u00ebr gjith\u00e7ka t\u00eb mir\u00eb, q\u00eb edhe ti t\u00eb ndjehesh krenar p\u00ebr ne. M\u00eb mungon shum\u00eb e do t\u00eb m\u00eb mungosh deri dit\u00ebn q\u00eb do t\u00eb jem af\u00ebr teje, babi im i shtrenjt\u00eb. Faleminderit miq, q\u00eb e lexuat historin\u00eb time!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ndryshe nga her\u00ebt e tjera, sot ndjeva nj\u00eb boshll\u00ebk shum\u00eb t\u00eb madh dhe vendosa t\u00eb shkruaj n\u00eb gazet\u00ebn tuaj… Nuk e di, ndoshta dikush m\u00eb kujtoi t\u00eb kaluar\u00ebn me ty, babi dhe u mall\u00ebngjeva, m\u00eb mbyti malli. P\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment t\u00eb vet\u00ebm m\u00eb erdh\u00ebn n\u00eb mendje gjith\u00eb k\u00ebto fjal\u00eb q\u00eb nisa t\u2019i shkruaj k\u00ebtu… Si […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[94],"tags":[254],"class_list":["post-6674","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-histori-nga-jeta","tag-histori-personale"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6674","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=6674"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6674\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6674"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6674"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intervista.al\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6674"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}