Jedino ono što sami proživimo i osjetimo na svojoj koži možemo i shvatiti i razumjeti u cijelosti. Osjećala sam kako mi se ruka ledi od tekućine prve kemoterapije, koja je kap po kap satima curila kroz infuziju, ulazila mi u vene i obuzimala tijelo na neki čudan način, sve više. Ne postoje riječi koje mogu da opišu to stanje u potpunosti. Pokušavala sam naći bolji položaj glave i tijela, okrenuti se na drugu stranu kreveta, ali šta god bih napravila nije pomagalo. Sve me je žuljalo. Krevet je bio neudoban za mršavicu poput mene, ali problem nije bio samo u krevetu. Žuljale su me vlastite kosti. Utonula sam u plavu bolničku posteljinu, iz koje je jedva virila desna ruka sa zabodenom iglom i cjevčicom. Slučajno sam pogledala u lijevu i pomislila sam da mi se smanjila gejša. I zmaj mi se smanjio!
A jednom, kada me medicinska sestra ubola, nakon već bezbroj ubadanja do tada, pomislila sam na precizno i konstantno bockanje igle za tetoviranje. Odmah zatim, lančano se nadovezala pomisao i sjećanje na sve osude, što dobronamjernih ljudi, što lažnih moralista kako je nama “TO tetoviranje” zabranjeno, kako to nije dozvoljeno u islamu, da su to šejtanska posla i šta mi sve nisu govorili.
I evo… Ako i to treba da prihvatim – predajem se! Prihvatam krivicu! Ako je Bog zaista trebao da me kazni zbog tog grijeha, onda – dragi moj Bože, Ti i ja smo sada kvit.
Kazni me… O, Bože, kazni me za sve.
Riječi su moje davno napisane, otpjevane i proslavljene pjesme. Kažu da je svaka izgovorena riječ molitva i činilo se da su neke misli i rečenice došle na naplatu, i bila sam svjesna da me za kaznu čeka sve ono s čime se još nisam susrela. Igle, infuzije, pregledi, nalazi… Već sam bila umorna od svega, a bio je to tek početak.
SOBA ZA NIKOGA – Uvod
INTRO
We can only grasp and fully understand the things we experience on our own or feel on our skin. I could feel my hand was freezing from the fluid of the first chemotherapy which was dripping through the infusion drop by drop for hours, going into my veins and engulfing my body more and more in some strange way. There are no words to describe this condition fully. I was trying to find a better position for my head and body, turn to the other side of the bed, but nothing helped. Everything caused me pain. The bed was uncomfortable for a skinny person like me, but it was not just the bed. My own bones were rubbing together. I sank into the blue hospital linens, from which my right hand with a pinned needle and tube was barely peeking. I happened to look to the left, and I thought my geisha shrank. And the dragon shrank as well! All of my tattoos moved from their place, and together with me somehow decreased.
Once, when a nurse inserted a needle in my arm, after doing it so many times before, I thought of the accurate and constant stinging of a tattoo needle. Immediately after that, there came to my mind a thought and memory of all the disapproval from some benevolent people, but also from some false moralists saying that “THIS tattooing” is prohibited, that it is not allowed in Islam, that it was devilry and what not.
And here … if I need to accept that as well – I give up! I accept the blame! If God really had to punish me for this sin, then, my dear God, You and I are even now.
“Punish me…God punish me for everything”
My words were written down long ago, sung and celebrated in song. They say that every spoken word is a prayer and it seemed that some of my thoughts and sentences came on collection, and I was aware that my punishment would be something that I had not experienced yet. Needles, infusion, medical examinations, lab results… I was already tired of everything, and it was only the beginning.
ROOM FOR NOBODY – Intro
SOBA ZA NIKOGA 