“Candyland” circa 2000 CE:

A young nine-year old boy races against the wind. A single ruby-red balloon flies overhead, also against the wind. The boy’s objective was to grab the balloon and prevent it from escaping. The balloon’s objective was to escape and prevent the boy from grabbing onto it. Consequently, the balloon doggedly outmanoeuvred and outraced the boy, and the boy doggedly pursued the balloon, unwilling to let it outmaneuver and outrace him. 

The duo came across a wide, mud-brown river. The current was strong: liquid particles stampeded from one end of the river to another. The balloon stopped momentarily as if it were looking at the boy. Then slowly, it drifted over the river, cruelly daring the boy to pursue it. The boy wasted no time in indecisive contemplation. He took off his torn T-shirt and dived into the river. The mud-coloured liquid tasted like chocolate milkshake. The boy attributed the frigid cold of the river to the dog-sized ice-blocks and the saucer-pan sized chocolate-chips which drifted alongside the liquid. With great difficulty, he waded across the great river- the frigid cold currents took a toll on his mobility. While stepping onto the riverbank, he lost his balance and fell head-first onto the ground. As he stood up, he clutched some grass in his hands. It felt rubbery. He had an irresistible urge to consume the grass. And so he did. The grass tasted like gummy-bears.

Upon seeing the boy make it across the river, the balloon wasted no time in indecisive contemplation and hastily floated away. The boy renewed his dogged pursuit. He chased it through a valley made of fudge, through a forest where the trees were made out of chocolates and marshmallows, and through a town inhabited by gingerbread folk. Neither the boy nor the balloon showed any signs of tiring or giving-in. He chased the balloon along a path made of chocolate-cream waffles, and through the candy-cane gates of a walled city. Then suddenly the balloon vanished. It disappeared into thin air as if it never existed. The boy was bewildered, and he searched all around him for his ruby-red nemesis. But then it was as if the balloon had never mattered. The boy was surrounded by mountains and mountains of food: platters of cake and couscous danced around him in circles; bowls of mombar and shakshouka swirled and twirled; skewers of shawarma and kebabs hopped about; an army of gummy-bears, each one larger than him, marched towards him; droplets of honey rained from above; mounds of cookies crawled towards him to greet him; and in the distance, a choco-lava cake volcano erupted to life. The boy was in paradise. The ruby-red balloon had delivered him unto the promised land where food was abundant and plentiful.

A voice roared from the sky, “Adeel!”

The boy stared at the clouds in confusion.

The voice continued, “You useless, filthy bastard! Get lost!”

The boy felt a violent jab abruptly strike his belly, and his surroundings melted away. He opened his eyes. He could see a hook-nosed middle-aged man with a wooden stick standing above him.

The man bellowed, “How many times have I told you to not sleep in front of my shop? You dirty rat! You drive all the customers away.” 

He delivered a hard kick to the boy’s ribs. 

Sniffling, the boy hastily got up and started running. Tears streamed down his eyes, and he cried silently unto himself. A wrinkled hand grabbed hold of him, and pulled him into an embrace. With his eyes, Adeel traced the source of the hand to a familiar old man. His clean, chalk-white beard contrasted nicely with his coal-black skin.   

The old man scolded, “Jalaludin! You scoundrel! Is this any way to treat an innocent child?”

At first, the hook-nosed middle-aged man said nothing. The old man’s glaring eyes demanded an explanation.

The shop-vendor stuttered, “Imam-Khatib Ibrahim Farooq Hassan Gamal! I did not see you, Sire.”

Ibrahim thundered, “What has this poor child done to earn the fruits of your violence?”

A small crowd began gathering around the revered religious leader, the flabbergasted hook-nosed middle-age man, and the filthy street orphan.

“But Imam-Khatib, he was sleeping in front of my shop.”

“And that gives you the right to violently molest him?”

Jalaludin protested, “It’s business hours, sir! This smelly, lice-ridden animal was driving away my customers. As a businessman, I have the duty to do what is best for my business.”

Ibrahim roared, “I doubt that this little child was driving away your business. But let’s assume that he was. Could you not have woken him up gently? Why did you feel the need to exercise such brute violence?”

As more and more people gathered to see what the commotion was all about, the crowd began to swell in size.

Ibrahim demanded, “This child deserves an apology and a compensation.”

Jalaludin defiantly protested, “I don’t think you understand the situation fully sir. Please try to look at the issue from my perspective. I am just trying to do what is best for my business. I don’t think this rat deserves any compensation. I’ve told him multiple times not to-”

The old man raised his index finger assertively.

The Imam-Khatib threatened in a low voice, “If you want to do what’s best for your business. An apology and a compensation. Now.”

Jalaludin relented. He said softly, “I am sorry Adeel. I should not have treated you that way. You are only a child. Here, let me get you a bar of chocolate.”

Jalaludin retrieved a large bar of chocolate from his shop.

He continued, “If I give you this bar of chocolate, you have to promise that you’ll never sleep in front of my shop again. Do we have a deal?”

The boy nodded slowly and grabbed onto the bar of chocolate with both his hands.

Smiling faintly, the old man said, “Thank you Jalaludin. God bless your soul.”

The Imam-Khatib grabbed the boy and walked away from the crowd.

Chocolates were a rare delicacy for homeless, penniless children. So Adeel wasted no time in burying the bar of chocolate deep into his mouth. 

The Imam looked sternly at the boy and asked him, “Why haven’t you been going to the Madrasa?”

“All the children there make fun of me. I don’t want to go there anymore. They say I am smelly and dirty and a rat.”

Ibrahim smacked him in the back of his head. The Imam said, “Foolish boy! Don’t you see that a good education is the only way out of this mess for you? And you are willing to waste that away just because a group of stupid boys make fun of you!”

“But I don’t want to go there if they make fun of me.”

“You are a very hard-working and intelligent boy, Adeel. What you lack is ambition and resilience. Develop those two things and you’ll go far in Life.”

“Imam-Khatib, Imam-Khatib, I had a very strange dream when I was sleeping today.”

Ibrahim sighed. Here he was trying to explain something important to this young boy, and the boy’s mind had already drifted away to another topic.

He asked softly, “What was this dream about?”

The boy said excitedly, “In my dream, there was food everywhere Imam-Khatib. I was surrounded by mountains and mountains of food. I had never seen so much food in my life.”

The Imam smiled compassionately at the boy.

The boy continued, “Wouldn’t it be great if this could happen in real life!”

Ibrahim sensed an opportunity. He said, “I’ll tell you what- if you attend the Madrasa regularly and work diligently, one day, you’ll be able to buy Mountains and Mountains of food.”

“Imam-Khatib, Imam-Khatib, you are the most learned man in the entire Masjid, and perhaps in all of Cairo. Can you buy mountains and mountains of food?”

“My boy, I am an Imam. And we Imams are not so fabulously rich. We are simple people who are only interested in serving God. In order to be rich, you must become a businessman.”

“A businessman, Imam-Khatib?

“Yes, a businessman. Like Nassef Sawiris, you have heard of him?”

“No, Imam-Khatib.”

“Nassef Sawiris is the richest man in all of Egypt, and one of the richest men of the world. He is wealthy enough to buy mountains and mountains of food.”

“Can I also become like Nassef Sawiris, Imam-Khatib?”

“Adeel, my dear child. Of course you can. But in order to do that, you must complete your education. Attend the Madrasa regularly and frequently. Then go to a University, and get a degree.”

“One day Imam-Khatib, I’ll be so rich that I’ll be surrounded by mountains of food. And I’ll sleep in the softest, most comfortable bed. And I’ll live in the most beautiful house. And I’ll drive the fastest car.”

Ibrahim smiled softly. He said, “Someday, Adeel, someday. Be persistent, diligent, hard-working, faithful, and focused. The five ingredients of success.”

Adeel beamed happily as if he could taste the fruits of his future.

The Imam continued, “Be faithful to God, Adeel. He’s your friend. Talk to him like a friend in your prayers. Confide in him.”

Life is a struggle for all people, but some people struggle more than others. Ibrahim gently patted the boy on his head. He felt bad for him. He did not know why Adeel’s parents had abandoned him and left him in such a pitiable state. And so he refrained from judging them.

The Imam mumbled, “Mektoub.” The phrase ‘mektoub’ can be roughly translated to “it is written.” Its connotation is that ‘God has written how things will turn out, and things turn out in that manner.’ In other words, things happen the way God wants them to happen. Ibrahim could see why the boy struggled in school. He was very vulnerable and had nobody to support him. His psychological needs were not being met. Life on the streets was rough and brutal: It hardened the softest of hearts, corrupted the most innocent of souls, and turned domesticated sheeps into wild wolves.

The boy radiated an aura of greatness, and something told the Imam-Khatib that he must be a stepping stone and help the boy attain his destiny. The 80-year old Ibrahim knew that his days were numbered. The doors of Death had set their sights on him, and were ravishing the sight of his frail, old body. It was only a matter of time. A chill ran down his spine. Realising that he had nothing to lose, the Imam decided to make a life-changing decision which would change two lives. He decided to adopt Adeel.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _

London circa 2016 CE:
A dream from many years ago had manifested into reality. Adeel Ibrahim Farooq Hassan Gamal was literally surrounded by heaps and heaps of food. To be more precise, he was in the midst of a dessert epidemic. An abundance of a diverse-variety of delicious diabetes and obesity inducing carbohydrates. When he was a young boy, he had believed that were he to be surrounded by mountains of food, his soul would know true happiness. But today, he discovered that this premise had been incorrect. Despite being surrounded by heaps of food, his soul did not know true happiness. The abstract, intangible emotion eluded him like a ruby-red balloon from a dream long gone. Instead his soul was burdened with the crushing weight of complete helplessness, willpower-shattering terror, and strong bouts of disillusion. He wondered to himself, ‘Did I ever truly know this woman?’

At a mere whim, Khrystina had indefinitely sentenced her husband to being suspended from, what was to him, some 390 feet above ground. He served this sentence on a beautiful china plate with his fellow inmates: a pile of choco-chip cookies, a throng of gummy-bears and gummy worms, and a large slice of a red velvet cake.

Khrystina exclaimed excitedly, “Oh my God, Adeel, you look so delicious! I bet you’d make a mouth-watering topping! I could just eat you up! Nom nom nom!”

She loudly chomped her teeth at him in a playful manner.

Khrystina said, “Now, let’s get down to business.” 

She turned the plate so that it faced a massive white board.

She asked, “Can you read it?”

“Yes, but I find it difficult to read because the board is too big.”

She offered kindly, “I’ll read it for you. Don’t worry.”

She ran her index finger along the title which was neatly aligned on the top-center of the board. It was perched on a straight blue vertical line which divided the board in two equal halves.

Khrystina read, “Plan for stopping domestic violence in the Kuznetsova-Gamal household.”

Adeel protested, “Let’s not call it domestic violence. That just sounds wrong.”

His wife obliged. With a blue marker, she crossed out ‘domestic violence’ and replaced it with ‘incidents of physical violence.’

Khrystina read out the correction, “Plan for stopping incidents of physical violence in the Kuznetsova-Gamal household.”

“That sounds better.”

Khrystina moved her index finger to the left section of the board. She read, “causes of violence.”

She wrote under the new heading, “#1. Adeel was seriously physically abused as a kid.”

Adeel asked, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Khrystina explained, “Individuals who experience frequent physical violence as children tend to emulate it.” 

She wrote, “#2. Unhealthy manifestations of unresolved problems,” and “#3. Anger issues.”

Adeel added, “Number 4, I think we should take a break.”

Khrystina glared at him. She asked, “A break from what?”

“From our relationship.”

Khrystina thundered, “Adeel, we are married!”

“I still want a break.”

Khrystina said in a menacing tone, “Sweetheart, you aren’t thinking straight. Why exactly do you want a break?”

“To contemplate the status of our relationship.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“This is coming from being shrunk, and not knowing that my wife had the powers of a sorceress.”

“Adeel, if you are still concerned about whether your current predicament is a result of witchcraft or black magic, let me assure that it isn’t. I didn't use black magic or witchcraft or sorcery of any kind. There, does that address your concerns?”

“I didn’t know that you had the power to shrink me! The power-dynamics in our relationship have shifted dramatically. I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying about whether or not my wife is going to shrink me. You went too far. You crossed the line. I need to think about whether or not this is workable.”

“Adeel, you aren’t thinking right. We are so close to resolving our problems. You know what? You need a time-out. I am giving you a time-out until you come to your senses.”

“You don’t have the right to give me a time-out.”

“And you don’t have the right to hit me! If you hadn’t hit me, none of this would have ever occured!”

“Habibi, you almost fucked me to death today. I think that more than evens it out. Doesn’t it?”

“But you were having so much fun in the bathtub! What changed?”

Khrystina picked up the red-velvet cake-slice and shoved it into her mouth.  

“Khrystina, it is just that-”

Khrystina brought her lips closer to the plate and Adeel stopped speaking. With her mouth held wide-open, she started loudly chewing the piece of cake. It was an implied threat. The cake was many times larger than him. It was as long as Khrystina’s palm, and as tall as a one-storey building to Adeel. Khrystina’s teeth repeatedly crushed the soft, spongy dessert into a pulp. At the end of the process, a huge, moist, velvet-coloured bolus lay curled up in the middle of her tongue. With a simple oral motion, Khrystina sent it plummeting down her throat. Adeel watched in terror as the bolus slipped past her uvula and disappeared. His eyeballs shifted their focus from her mouth to her neck. A large downward-moving bulge in Khrystina’s neck confirmed that the bolus had in-fact been dispatched to its destination. Her message was clear. She was reminding him that he was powerless, and that she could do whatever she pleased with him. Adeel shuddered. 

Khrystina asked with a smile, “You were saying?”

Adeel answered, “I think you just proved my point.” 

She asked with feigned innocence, “What point?”

“I can’t be with you anymore Khrystina, because I am not sure if I will be safe with you. I don’t want to be shrunk and abused at your whim and fancy. I am not happy being in this relationship. And I can’t live in constant terror and fear. So while I do enjoy our shared cherished memories, I am afraid that we must now part ways. It is for the best.”

“I thought you wanted a break. Now you want a divorce?”

“Yes, I am afraid that your actions have compelled me to take this course of action.”

“So let me get this straight. You want to leave me because you don’t feel safe, and you aren’t happy with the current situation?”

“Yes.”

“Adeel, when you beat me all these years, I didn’t feel safe. Each of your blows made me more and more unhappy. But I didn’t use that as an excuse to abandon you. I tried to find a mutually-workable solution and make it work.” 

“While I appreciate that Khrystina, it was still a choice that you had made of your own volition. I never forced you to be with me. You could have left. You chose to stay- that was entirely your decision.” 

A single tear-drop rolled down Khrystina’s cheek. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Maybe she had pushed him too far. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to terrify him.

“Adeel, please. I’ll make you a deal. If you and I can agree on a workable solution to this problem, I’ll never shrink you again. We’ll finally be happy together.”

“Khrystina, that would just be a waste of time. I do not wish for this arrangement to continue any longer.”

“But I am all you have. You have no one else to turn to.”

“I think that’s part of the problem.”

Khrystina couldn’t believe her ears. She had always assumed that he would never abandon her because she was all that he had. Streams of tears poured out of her eyes like a herd of wildebeests stampeding down a dried-up gorge. She wanted to plead with him, beg him to stay, but something stopped her. 

“Everytime you hit me, I made excuses for you. I tried to rationalise your violence. I always tried to make it not your fault.”

“I am sorry about all of that. I really am.”

“But now I realise that it was all your fault.”

Something was not right. Adeel could sense it. He decided that silence was the best course of action. There was a strange tension in the air. Khrystina placed the plate on the kitchen counter. He had to crane his head all the way back to see her face.

She said slowly, “I had told you that I would unshrink you when we resolved all our relationship problems.”

He blurted, “And in a way, all our relationship problems have been resolved.”

“How is that?”

“Because we aren’t in a relationship anymore?”

“We aren’t divorced. Yet.”

“But we are getting divorced.”

She said with a vindictive smile, “You’ll have to call your lawyer for that. Why don’t you call him?” 

“Khrystina, you are scaring me.”

“I said that I would unshrink you once we resolved all our relationship issues. You tried to wiggle your way out of this mess the easy way- by demanding a divorce. Well, I hate to tell you this, but as long as the divorce procedure isn’t finished, our relationship issues remain unresolved. Which means that you’ll remain shrunken.”

“Ok Khrystina, I concede! I am willing to resolve our relationship issues.”

“You are too late. I am no longer interested. Which means that our relationship issues remain unresolved, and you, my dear Adeel, remain shrunken.”

“Khrystina, don’t be so vindictive.”

“Vindictive? I’ll show you vindictive.”

She lifted him up and dropped him into her ice-cold glass of chocolate milkshake.

She said sadly, “You made me cry twice today, Adeel.”

Adeel yelled in desperation, “Khrystina! You promised not to hurt me! You promised to protect me! If you leave me in here, I’ll die of hypothermia!”

“Let’s just say that I have decided to revoke my promises.”

“Khrystina, this isn’t funny! I’ll freeze to death! This is really bad!”

“Would you like some warmth?”

“Yes, please. Get me out of this freezing nightmare!”

She flashed her pearly white teeth at him and said, “Your wish is my command.” 

The pale humanoid mountain raised the glass of milkshake up to her lips, and chugged,  dispatching it down her gullet.