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The master of the house and ustai!

2022-07-05 22:52:05Pikëpamje SHKRUAR NGA LUTFI DERVISHI
The master of the house and ustai!
Lutfi Dervishi

After handing over the money and the project, he expected the young master to start work immediately and finish the house he had dreamed of so much. He hoped very much that the new ustai would be different, job done - as they say from our side.

Peeled bazaar, job done - said the young master, shaking his head slightly, as if to say: this is the easiest thing for me.

To put the young ustain on the line, the master of the house mentioned something to him as a sign that he was still angry because he spoke up first.

You don't talk to me, the young ustai told him. The other one may have had a problem with the word, but it doesn't with me. My word is work.

You're right, Master - answered the master of the house - excessive words are nonsense.

What happened, let's call it that the river Vjosa took him. I don't want to dwell on it. I am interested in finishing the house a day before. This is all I ask of you.

Autumn passed, winter came, spring came and went, but the work for the new house was not going well.

- It seems to me that you are not building a house, but a castle - the ghettos said.

- The terrain is bad. There has been a lot of rain this fall. Winter with frost and spring like this don't come again - vented the young master. And guiltily he muttered.

- We need some money again. We had not planned for the landslide. Additional works were done that are not visible today, but we worked with great concern.

- Why didn't you tell me before, sir?!

- I didn't want to disturb you. I said I'm working a little with my money and put work ahead.

- Will I finish the house this year? Only this worry I have nothing else.

- I am the first who wants to finish it faster. You are the second - returned ustai.

- Ustai took the money and promised that now he would see a different pace of work. 24 hours a day.

With these words, summer went away and autumn came again. The house sometimes resembled the castle of Rozafa and sometimes the legends that are talked about a lot, but few have seen.

In the third year, the ustai again asked for some more money.

"I don't want to be ashamed. I have made some changes in the project and time demands that we also take care of the appearance. This house will be a model and it will be talked about for a long time."

The owner of the house was in trouble. He wanted to finish the house, but he couldn't cut the money with scissors either. This time he borrowed.

***

To cut the story short: the house you were promised would be finished in a year, let alone two, took a full 15 years to finish. Like all ustallars of today, as soon as another job came up, the ustai would run there, come back with the promise "it's over" and year after year increase the anger of the owner of the house more than the height of the walls that seemed to have no soss Like everything that has an end, the house also ended.

The big day came to receive the keys. The owner of the house had long since lost his temper. He had paid twice as much as they had bargained for. He could no longer remember the year when the construction had started. Last year, the war in Ukraine was also included in the account. Every time Kiev was bombed, the Ustai demanded compensation.

"Great war. The whole world is shocked. Leave, leave what found us. Say well with that, but we have to prepare for the worst" - said the master who had recently grown a beard. For truth's sake he had a more beautiful beard than the priest and the village headman put together.

Even the owner of the house was no longer the first one. He was like a man who experiences all the feelings in an hour.

If at first he was happy, then upset, then bitter, then sad, finally angry and revolted. At night he chattered and during the day he talked to himself.

"They talk to the jinn" - said the oldest woman in that area.

He would go out to the main square of the village and openly threaten: I will finish the mascara, but you have seen what I have to do to him. Those who did not know him wanted to notify the police, but those who did know him were calmer.

"Let him vent that he brought it up his nose," advised the old man.

The day of the inauguration of the house came. The master had invited everyone for joy.

- To whom I have told the same and who has received forgiveness from me is invited as a family to the joy.

Many wanted to go, but some were afraid that they had heard of the warning he had given to the ustai. Even in silence, but also in loud conversations, they gave him the right.

"I have every right of God to do everything. He paid the money. He asked for money and again he paid it and brought it up to the tip of his nose with the delays".

In conclusion, those who were afraid that something bad would happen and would end up at the doors of the police and the courts did not go to the inauguration of the house, some others did not go for fear that the owner of the house would ask them for a debt because they knew that there was took debts, another part did not go because they foresaw that something unheard of would happen.

The master of the house thought long about revenge. Now, more than for the new house, he was looking forward to the moment to take the hack publicly to the ustai, in front of everyone.

He had also called journalists. Not from the area where they were afraid to come, but he called them from the capital of the country.

May you enjoy it for generations to come, O master of the house - said the master.

May their honor increase and bless their hands. No one would make this house as beautiful as you have made it - said the owner of the house. In his tone it was not clear if he was serious or if he was saying those words out of habit.

For what you did to me - continued the master of the house - I remain in debt, but let everyone who is here know that I have one last thing to give.

You don't owe me anything - replied the ustai.

The master of the house put his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. Those who knew the anger of the householder, the anger of a wise man, lowered their eyes to the ground and turned their heads to the side.

The master of the house slowly took out a black, jagged thing from the inside pocket of his jacket, but it was barely visible as he covered it with his palm. He brought it close to his mouth and blew and some sounds came out. There he started a song for ustain!


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