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Charles B. Spiteri

Min jaqta’ s-siġar u min jitlobna nibżgħu għalihom. Kull tant tiġi bejn ħaltejn lil min minnhom tagħti kas. Iżda l-ħidma li saret fuq dan iz-zokk enormi ta’ siġra, jista’ jitqies bħala arti tal-għaġeb u għalhekk, l-issagrifikar taz-zokk, serva għal xi ħaġa.

Naqqqax tal-injam Ċiniż, magħruf mad-dinja kollha – Zheng Chunhui — qata’ z-zokk u qatta’ erba’ snin kontinwi ta’ xogħol biex fuqu wettaq talent li lanqas jista’ jiġi deskritt. Tant li l-arti li għamel qed titqies bħala kapulavur. It-tinqix li għamel hu bbażat fuq il-pittura famuża Ċiniża Along the river During the Qingming Festival, li l-ħsieb għaliha jmur lura aktar minn 1,000 sena. Din l-iskultura fiz-zokk tas-siġra rebħet ir-Rekord Dinji tal-Guinness għall-itwal skultura li qatt saret fl-injam.

Hi twila 12.286 metru; l-ogħla parti tagħha fiha 3.075 metri u fiha wisa’ ta’ 2.401 metri. L-iskultura fina li fiha u li turi kif kienet il-ħajja fiċ-Ċina tal-qedem, hi tant dettaljata u perfetta, li bla ma trid, iġġiegħlek tiskanta. U l-aktar, meta wieħed iqis, li biex tlesta dan ix-xogħol, ħa 8,760 siegħa.

Joseph H. Abela, Qassis

Il-KELMA issa fiha ġmiel kbir. Bniedem jaqdi, jisimgħek, jilmħek, iħares lejk, isellimlek u jitlaq u tħossok li qiegħed f’qalbu jew qalbha. Illum mhux hekk!

Bis-saħħa jew bis-saħta taċ-ċellulari jintbagħtulek risposti. Imħabbat wisq biex inkellmek jew int bla siwi għalija. Din l-impressjoni li tieħu, iżda aktarx tkun minnha.

L-għodda tal-ftehim saret ix-xkiel lill-bniedem, u ssieħeb lil ħadd, żommu ’l bogħod. Taparsi jagħti kas iżda fil-fatt int żejjed.

Dan ifisser li tħossok waħdek jew mingħalik jiftakru fik.

Imberkin il-każini, imberkin l-imkejjen tal-isport.

SIĊĊA   L-għadma tas-siċċa kienet tintuża mill-artiġjani li jipproduċu diversi tipi ta’ xogħol ornamentali li jintlibes bħala żina, pereżempju l-gamew, il-kullani, iċ-ċrieket u bosta affarijiet oħra magħmulin mid-deheb u materjal prezzjuż. Is-siċċa kienet tintuża biex l-ewwel jitnaqqax fiha d-disinn li wieħed jixtieq imbagħad f’din il-forma negattiva jintefa’ l-materjal, bħal deheb imdewweb, biex jieħu dik il-forma tad-disinn fil-varjazzjoni pożittiva tiegħu.

Charles B. Spiteri

Għaċ-Ċiniżi, il-bini hu xi ħaġa tal-meravilja. Dan l-aħħar għadhom kif inawguraw l-akbar bini tad-dinja, li kapaċi jesa’ 20 Opera Houses daqs ta’ Sydney jew tliet Pentagons.

In-New Century Global Center f’Chengdu, proviniċja ta’ Sichuan fih kobor ta’ 19-il miljun pied kwadru u fih ċentri sħaħ ta’ ħwienet, villaġġ Mediterranju, water park, ice-skating rink u numru ta’ lukandi.

Naturalment, il-viżitaturi f’dan il-bini msaqqaf bil-ħġieġ, m’għandhomx għax jinkwetaw minħabba t-temp, għax dan il-kumpless ġgantesk għandu x-xemx artifiċjali tiegħu.

Bħala qisien, il-binja hi twila 500 metru b’400 metru wisa’ u mitt metru għoli. Skont l-uffiċjali Ċiniżi, in-New Century Global Centre hu l-ikbar bini fid-dinja u ħadilhom tliet snin biex lestewh.

Liu Xun, gwida Ċiniż qal li din il-‘belt’ mibnija mill-umani, għandha fiha xemx artifiċjali li tipprovdi dawl u sħana għal 24 siegħa kuljum, għal dawk li jkunu jridu jagħmlu x-xirja tagħhom jew l-oħrajn li jridu jżuru l-400,000 metru kwadru ta’ ħwienet u mħażen.

Charles B. Spiteri

L-ewwel karozzi li jtiru se jibdew jinbiegħu lill-pubbliku mis-sena li ġejja. Id-ditta Terrafugia ħabbret li d-disinn tagħha – li f’parti hi karozza u f’parti oħra jet privat b’żewġ seats, erba’ roti u ġwinħajn li jingħalqu biex tkun tista’ tinsaq bħala karozza, se tkun għall-bejgħ dalwaqt.

Id-ditta, bil-bażi tagħha f’Massachusetts żvelat il-ħsibijiet tagħha għall-mudell TF-X, li se tkun żgħira biżżejjed li tidħol f’garaxx u ma jkollhiex ħtieġa ta’ mitjar biex tinqata’ mill-art.

Il-karozza-ajruplan Transition se tkun tista’ tinsaq b’ħeffa ta’ madwar 70 mil fis-siegħa fit-triq, waqt li fl-ajru ttella’ 115-il mil. Hi ttir billi tuża tank ta’ 23 gallun fuel  tal-karozza u taħraq ħames glalen minnhom kull siegħa li tkun fl-ajru. Hu maħsub li fis-sewqan fit-triq, tagħmel 35 mil bil-gallun u għat-triq fiha wkoll ir-rear-wheel drive.

It-Transition hi mgħammra b’żewġ airbags u paraxut għall-karozza sħiħa.

Is-sena li għaddiet, it-Transition kellha l-ewwel prova, fejn taret f’għoli ta’ 1,400 pied għal tmien minuti. Dan meta l-jets kummerċjali jogħlew f’35,000 pied. Madankollu, il-prezz tat-Transition mhux se jkun irħis. Tiswa €23,960.51. Il-kumpanija Terrafugia ħabbret li s-sidien, irid ikollhom liċenzja ta’ pilota u jkollhom joqogħdu għal eżami ta’ 20 siegħa titjir, biex ikunu jistgħu jkollhom din l-karozza.

Il-karozzi li kapaċi jtiru, minn dejjem kienu fl-immaġinazzjoni tal-Amerikani u l-inventuri kienu ilhom biex jimmanifatturaw waħda sa mill-1930. Il-gvern diġà laqa’ t-talba tal-kumpanija, biex tuża roti speċjali u ħġieġ li hu eħfef min-normal. Dan biex ikun aktar faċli għall-karozza li ttir.

Il-kumpanija kienet ilha taħdem fuq din il-karozza sa mill-2006. Għall-bidu ħabbret li kellha tintroduċiha lill-pubbliku fl-2011, iżda kellha tittardja minħabba l-isfidi fid-disinn u l-problemi għal xi partijiet li riedet tordna mingħand kumpaniji oħra.

Charles B. Spiteri

Il-passiġġieri tal-Underground  f’Londra dalwaqt jibdew jgħiru għall-aktar sistema tal-metro lussuża fid-dinja li se tkun lesta fi ftit snin.

B’dehra minn ġewwa li titqies bħala lukanda b’ħames stilel, ix-xogħol propost f’Riyadh, fl-Arabja Sawdija, se kollu disinn spazjali, b’passaġġi tal-irħam, ħitan miksijin bid-deheb u naturalment — peress li hu post sħun immens – sistema mill-aqwa ta’ arja kundizzjonata.

Il-faċċata se tkun magħmula b’mod li taċċetta li d-dawl jidħol ġewwa, waqt li fl-istess ħin tilqa’ s-sħana ħarxa tad-deżert.

Il-binja se jkollha sitt linji differenti li jitħaddmu flimkien, u sar il-ftehim mir-Re Abdullah li trid titlesta f’erba’ snin biss – l-istess żmien li ħadu l-bennejja fi New York biex irrinovaw stazzjon wieħed.

Li aktar jiffrusta lill-Ingliżi ta’ Londra hu l-fatt li din is-sistema ġdida għall-Għarab, kienet disinjata minn Zaha Hadid, perit nofsu Ingliż, li wettaq numru ta’ żviluppi moderni mad-dinja kollha.

Dan il-perit bl-uffiċċju f’Londra hu nofsi Iraqin u kien il-moħħ wara l-iżviluppi fil-Pjazza tal-Kapitali Hoxton u f’Eaton Place, kif ukoll fi proġetti internazzjonali fi bliet, fosthom New York, Singapore u Dubaj.

QAMAR   Rif. għal darba f’qamar. L-espr. t-tajba hija darba f’mitt qamar, u tfisser rarament.

SKUFJA   Kappa tas-suf jew tal-għażel maħduma b’mod li tagħfas mar-ras minn fuq u b’żigarella tinżel mal-għonq u tinqafel taħt il-geddum. Din tintlibes l-aktar min-nisa u għaldaqstant tkun iddekorata mit-tarf bil-bizzilla. Tintlibes ukoll mis-sorijiet u tista’ wkoll tinħiet għat-trabi. L-espressjoni figurattiva ‘għadu jilbes l-iskufja’ tfisser li għadu qisu tarbija fl-imġiba tiegħu. Il-qawl ‘Kieku kelli nbigħ l-iskufji kieku t-trabi jitwieldu bla ras,’ jirreferi għal xi ħadd li fin-negozju jsofri dejjem.

Sors: Il-Qawl Iqul, p. 135.

Richard Evans and Joe Barton, both in their fifties, bachelors and long-time friends, were walking in the park. They crossed the narrow make-shift wooden bridge and headed towards the river bank where they would sit on the grass and talk on whatever takes their fancy at the moment. It was a lovely Sunday in the Spring of 1999.

“There’s the annual traditional fair next week Richard. It’s been sometime since I’ve last been there. Shall we go and see what’s happening, what do you say?” asked Joe as he sat down on the moist grass. “The Fair eh!  I don’t know Joe. I’ll tell you what happened to me at the Fair years ago. I haven’t told this experience to anyone else before.That is if you are in the listening mood, of course,” replied Richard.

“Yes. Yes. I’m listening. This must be interesting if you kept it to yourself all these years,” said Joe.  Richard sat down beside his friend and began recounting his story:-

“It was a day like today. Sunday, the end of Spring heralded the Summer season of exactly thirty years ago. The Fair was on. I was one of the thousands who went to visit it, more out of curiosity than for anything else. I sort of surprised myself that day. As you very well know, I am a very shy and introvert person who does not make friends easily. I always keep a step or two back from entering into a conversation, or from saying ‘hello’ to a person smiling at me, or from encouraging any familiarity whatsoever. 

I was roaming from one place to another, watching people, young and old, enjoying themselves with the various kinds of entertainment being offered from the many stalls, tents and booths. It was a lovely day, the sun was shining after a bad winter and the people were making a day of it. 

I was watching people on the merry-go-round as I clutched a small bottle of water in my hands. Then I saw her. She was wearing a short multi-coloured summer dress tied with narrow black belt at the waist. She was so pretty!  She was holding on to her dress as she spun round and round on the merry-go-round. 

She saw me looking at her and smiled at me. I felt shy to smile back. Then, on the second round, she appeared again in front of me, still clutching her skirt with one hand. But she waved at me with her other hand. I just lifted my hand slowly and sort of waved back. I made just a small movement with my hand really. 

When the merry-go-round stopped, she got down, looked out for me, joined her friends and went to find other entertainment. I was mesmerised by her. I moved on, looking here and there, seeing what’s available, what’s interesting, more to pass the time than to take part in any ride or join in the fun. Then I sat on a bench to rest, taking a sandwich out of my case. I saw her again half an hour later. She passed in front of me with her two companions, recognized me, waved directly at me and smiled. What was I to do? I did smile back and waved again but did not leave the bench to follow her. Maybe I should have done that.!

Then she dropped a leaflet she was carrying, could have been the Fair’s programme or something. Maybe she had dropped it on purpose hoping to encourage me to come near her and talk to her. I was pondering whether I should run after her, pick up the leaflet and give it to her. That should have been my immediate impulse of course, but I was caught in two minds. I was rooted on the spot. It was my shyness of course. Suddenly a young man stepped forward, picked up the leaflet and gave it to her with a smile and a bow. They started talking and, to my dismay, he kept walking with her. I was the nearest person when she dropped the leaflet but was too slow to act. I didn’t see her again. The sun was setting down and I made it to the exit and took a bus home. But her face, her smile and her wave kept coming back to me every day. The ‘meeting’ with this beautiful girl, brief and from a distance as it happened, was always on my mind.  

For thirty years after that, every year without fail, I went to the annual Funfair in the hope of meeting her once more. I was determined to talk to her and, at least, learn her name. But I never saw her again! Last year the Fair was back again as usual at the beginning of the Summer season. I went again, more out of  habit than anything else. I had been walking around among the stalls and rides for some time, felt tired and sat down on a seat overlooking the merry-go-round. 

A middle-aged lady came and sat next to me. She looked tired too and I was sure that there were tears in her eyes. Then she looked at me and said. “I used to come here every year when I was a young lass.”  “So did I” I replied. “I met my late husband here,” she went on. Then she smiled at me. There was no mistaking it. It was her!

I was dumbfounded and just looked at her in disbelief. Then she said. “I nearly met a nice young man at this Fair one year, many years ago.”  I just listened, still could not believe my eyes. “He was eyeing me and I was sure that he was interested. So I dropped my programme hoping that he would pick it up and we would start talking”. I did not speak one word, just listened to her recounting the incident which for so many years was still fresh in my memory.

“He was such a nice young man”, she continued. “But he never picked it up. I think that he was going to, however the man who became my husband beat him to it!” she said. As Richard stopped his long recount, Joe brought his hand to his mouth in surprise. “What a sad and fascinating story,”  he said. “You know something? I don’t like Fairs. Never have done!” Richard responded calmly. 

“You don’t like Fairs? And you kept going there every year for thirty long years!” said Joe. “No. no. This was just a story. I made it up! Just my imagination! It never happened. I’ve never been to the Fair!” replied Richard.