Time Stood Still

His voice was a clear indicator that something was terribly wrong.

Whether it was the slight tremble in his tone or his restlessness in shifting his weight, she could not decide. He kept on talking, hastily, spitting out words quicker than his heartbeat. He was loud, but she did not understand a word that fell from his lips. It was the language, perhaps, that made her body stiffen and a lump form in her throat.

He was talking too fast, and she could not fathom why.He knew she was here; he knew she was going to be here. And never before, in their two years of friendship, did his lips move so quickly. With a forced laugh, though no one else could know that it was unnaturally coming from his belly, he ran his fingers through his hair and paused. He was looking right at her.

For a minute, time stood still.

It was as if no one else was there, his eyes never tore away from her. Her eyes never tore away from him. He stumbled on his words, muttering a quick apology and offering his signature warm smile before straightening the paper in front of him. Fixing his microphone, although it was perfectly in place before, he glanced up.

After his short pause, he spoke softly and slowly, making sure that she could comprehend everything he was saying. But she did not want to know how grateful he was that everyone had attended the event. She did not care that he felt honored to be invited as a guest speaker. She wanted to know what he had said.

So when he came down from the podium, she asked him.

“Minor mishaps with my initial script, a bit too long, a lot of unnecessary information that I had to skim through-“

“But what did you say?” Her words, still vaguely unfamiliar to the new tone of the language, were clear to him.

“I told you, it was the original script, just rushed through.” He tried to reassure her, but her eyebrows stayed furrowed. He sighed heavily and gave her shoulder a soft pat.

He walked away from her to shake hands with someone she did not know. The man leaned over his shoulder to whisper something, making the both of them smile and nod. Just as the man opened his mouth, he started talking.

“May I introduce you to Alaiza?” He gestured for her to come over. She shook hands with the man, despite the initial shocked expression and pursed lips that were quickly disposed of when she came to them.

“Hello, Alaiza.” The man said calmly. He made an apology and excused himself, claiming to greet someone who had just arrived.

“Is it because I am Arabic?” She finally asked him. He wanted to reassure her, she could see it, but she did not let him. “Because I am a Muslim, that is why you gave a different speech.”

“Alaiza-“

“And someone told you to change this speech. You did not talk about friendship, or unity, or acceptance! You said what they told you to say!” Her voice trembled, tears brimming in her eyes as her face grew hot.

“Be quiet, people are staring.” He stepped closer to her, whisper-shouting.

“Let them stare, let them hear us. I do not care. I am a proud Muslim, and you are a coward.”


Katya Tjahaja