If eternal judgement turns to be anything but a myth, I can see how it goes with me. God, in his infinite wisdom, would ask me what good have I done with my life, frown, and whisper something to an angel on his left side who will hand me a key with a number. I would walk an endless corridor and open the door with the matching number only to see my own custom-made hell, a nightclub.
Laterna used to be a bar in the heart of Damascus where disillusioned leftist politicos would sit down, drink a beer, and contemplate what they could have done better to change the world; a shabby place that could not be closer to Orwell’s Chestnut Tree Café.
Things have changed in Damascus since, the Laterna doesn’t exist anymore and the little space before it is now a valet parking for our new society. I went there tonight on my last night in town for a fun evening out in what is now known by the velvet society of Damascus as the Chillo nightclub.
I sipped my Red Bull vodka and looked around the scarcely lit hall that used to listen to political discussions and ambitious unrealistic plans only to see the nouveaux riches of the city dancing to unimaginably horrid remixed fast-paced music. I sat there under the tuned-to-Siberia air-conditioner while my internal organs received the shock waves of the amplified beats and my brain cells died of the over stimulation of the sound and light thinking that if those men had such enthusiasm going to a gym they wouldn’t be that fat.
What made the evening even more comical, and disturbing, is that it was held by a charity that used the alcohol money to ‘buy clothes for the poor’ as I was told. Which means that good deeds needed to go through the barman to make sense and that all the fat cats there were getting drunk in the middle of the week for a good reason. All is OK then.
All that aside, I still cannot see the point behind going to a night-club! What makes people actually believe that the hellish, dark, noisy, crowded dungeon is entertainment worth paying for? The dancing of the drunk, the music that is only worthy of torture chambers, or the overpriced alcohol? I am not sure I am in the right, or any, mental state to attempt an answer.
People who need that much fuss to believe they are entertained have simply not been introduced to a good book, a worthy movie, or an interesting conversation. To be in a place with other people you like and not be able to exchange two sentences because of the noise is simply a waste of time, even after four vodkas. Why do people do it then, I am not sure. If anyone knows, please enlighten me.
In the meanwhile, do not go to the Chillo, or any nightclub for that matter, you have been warned!
And here are your 500 words for today.
tammam, first time i went to chillo i was about to cry... i was wondering why all people are acting like this, why khaled is acting like this, i couldn't even smell the vodka.
ReplyDeletebut later i discovered a new point of view, people sometimes simply get tired of their daily life problems, their concerns about work, their close friends' colluding...
they just need to run away, forget, get drunk, and dance like a crazy :)
i know it's not a solution for anything, it just helps you to get rid of your anger... i also know that there are much better ways to get rid of you anger, but after all we live with people, and going with the flow sometimes may be fun.
Tammam just hates going with the flow, and if he could, he would go against the flow all the time!!!
ReplyDeleteIt’s about the state of mind dude… if someone is fed up with books, movies, people, or even being reasonable all the time.. Then going to a night club might be a cure (a short term one)... It’s all about being content.
ReplyDeleteThe question remains: Is "Chillo" ganna sue us after our 500 documented article :-)