Khalil Ismaili Alaoui

Khalil Ismaili Alaoui

For a Few Drop More

Melancholic jazzy tones played in my ears as countless sparky bubbles wriggled in the glass. The bottle of soda stood graciously on the table next to a useless ashtray and a book I wasn't in the mood for. The music kept going on as I watched a captivating spectacle of uninteresting passersby. I gazed at the faces of strangers, joyfully wondering what kind of people they would be like, or coming up with enjoyable psychopathic scenarios, where each pack of students nearby weren't studying for the finals but conspiring to rob a bank, where the old woman shopping for groceries was an infiltrating alien and the nice man with the fancy suit sitting next to me was a pimp. My demented boredom-driven thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the sweetest of creatures. A bee showed up as if from thin air, hovered around my head for a while, then landed on top of the soda bottle. The bank robbers, the lady alien, and the pimp were nothing compared to the entertainment I had watching an insect collect artificial sugar from the glass surface of a bottle. The music in my ears conveniently switched from sad to ecstatic while the yellow winged specimen danced graciously, moving cheerfully like a hungry infant embracing its mother's breast. I could try and imagine, but the extent to which those drops of soda mattered to the bee was not an understandable notion for a species as complicated as ours. That thought had taken me on a little trip of wonderment I didn't get back from until I realized that the bee had disappeared. "It would appear that even a bee has better to do than listen to my twisted philosophy", I thought as I poured the last drops of soda into the glass and saw a bee swimming within. As a clumsy attempt to rescue that poor bug, I picked it up with a coffee spoon and gently dropped it on the table. I was delighted to realize that it was still alive and watched it perform its tiny ritual of resuscitation as it dried itself. It all started with the legs, rubbing each two together, which looked like the miniscule creature was conspiring to take over the galaxy. Then the wings, which looked like they were about to come off at any moment, miraculously took their original flawless shape back. No sign of panic, as if the tiny lady bug hadn‘t almost died- well, it seemed to me like a lady, a gentleman would have died of laziness by now. Ultimately, as if to finalize the revival protocol, the pair of antennas stood back up on the little

fellow‘s head and I felt life run through its thorax again. Then came the pièce de résistance, the pleasant sight I had no idea I was longing to see. It was finally time to put the rehabilitated wings to work. The little beast attempted a couple of vain wing movements which did nothing but shake off drops of apple flavored soda, then tried again. ―Go, littlebuddy!‖, secretly cheered the seven year old inside me, as I watched the bee levitate, make it above my head, glide for a few seconds, then land on the soda bottle. ―Huh…‖, wondered the twenty two year old inside me. I looked at the bee and smiled. Then, I straightened my headphones, picked up my book and reached for my wallet. I had then known that I had seen what the universe had to offer me that day. On my walk back home, one or two thoughts kept... bugging me- no pun intended. Any supposedly sane human being, who would have considered that insect a lower being lacking all form of intelligence, wouldn‘t think much of it of course. A sane human being would have laughed at the little creature‘s stupidity and went on their way. A sane human being would have just smashed it, like… a bug. But is that what it was? Would it be fair to simply call the bee brainless in order to explain its behavior? A creature with no conscience and no awareness of danger, blindly following animal instincts and seeking food, even if it meant going back to its own destruction? On the other hand, would it be so farfetched to call it a perseverant, dedicated, and extraordinarily wise creature with a higher form of consciousness and intelligence, unperceivable to grey matter, or a creature refusing to give up on its duty no matter the danger on its life?

Again, don‘t we humans do the same things we curse as brainless behavior, throwing ourselves at beings or substances which could be the end of us? Oh, no, hold on. Yes, that would be what we call romantic… my bad. Oh, and, is it arrogance or actual stupidity, the fact that we curse an insect with foolishness while our contribution to the universe is far from comparable to the good a single brainless bee can offer?

What should I believe? Who should I listen to?

Should I join the optimistic naive seven year old in his cheering for the bee when it drowns itself for the second time? Or join the twenty two year old dystopian storyteller in cursing this creation and brooding at the failure of his species?

Ugh… never mind, it was just a bee.