DOMESTIC VIOLENCE / Gjati wakes up suddenly, sees with alarm that Albania has crawled out of his bed

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You shouldn't have left, Arbër Çobaj!

2025-12-14 13:43:13Pikëpamje SHKRUAR NGA SOKRAT HABILAJ

Arbër Çobaj, you probably didn't know him for as long as he was here among the living. You didn't know him because he was an ordinary boy like many others. But you should have known him because he was so beautiful and in the end, he was so noble. You didn't know him because he loved his Homeland, but you should have known him because he could not be separated from the Homeland where he was born.

You did not know him, because he was capable of building his life anywhere else, but you should have known him because he chose to take his steps in his Homeland at any moment.
What I have just said is enough to convince you that in fact, you knew Arbër Çobaj.
Furthermore, it would be enough to tell you just a few details to convince you not only that you really knew him, without exception, but also to convince you that the tears you shed for him were not simply tears for a young man who left this world. They were tears for what was also your part.
Even your most beautiful part.
In these conditions, I am convinced that you know him not only now that he is among the stars: You know him, not only from the light that he has begun to radiate, or the fact that by taking his place somewhere high, he is visible to everyone, but also from the fact that for as long as he lived his daily life, it seemed that he was a soul who had been born to be a light for others.
And being a beautiful part of the world, everyone has been given the opportunity to feel the presence of Arbër Çobaj's soul, because we all have beautiful parts within ourselves. Part of this beauty is precisely Arbër Çobaj himself.
In that beautiful part of each one, there was also Arbër Çobaj's face, it was his soul. If you meditated for just a moment, you would be convinced that you really knew Arbër Çobaj and believe me in what I am saying. Believe me that it would be completely reasonable to say:
-We were lucky to have known Arbër Çobaj. That we knew him for as long as he was among us.
We may not be able to properly understand God's works and, moreover, we cannot "judge" them, but I can say that when he chooses someone like Arbër Çobaj, God has understood that the sky needed to become more beautiful. God has understood that the sky needed to become brighter. And precisely to achieve this, he chose a beautiful star. Perhaps the most beautiful.
I don't know how God balances things, but when a beautiful image like Arbër Çobaj is gone, a part of our beauty is gone forever, a beautiful part of Albania is gone forever.
There are many difficult moments in a person's life. There are many moments when he feels like a teardrop rolling down his face, but I don't think there is a moment similar to the moment when you are in front of a father whose son has just passed away, when your eyes meet his eyes drowned in tears. I don't think there is a sadder moment than when you look into his eyes, while he tries to say the name of his son who is no longer by his side, but he can't mention more than two or three letters of his name. When in front of him, and you also can't say more than that many letters.
There are painful moments, but I don't think there are any more tearful moments than that moment when you and the person whose son just left you look deeply into each other's eyes, and after that you feel deeply guilty. You feel guilty, not just the two of you, but also everyone around you, even those outside that gate, even those who are not there at all, even those who are on a plateau there in the South, even those who are in every part of the world, I say that everyone really feels guilty. You feel guilty looking into his father's eyes, as if we both want to say one sentence, one sentence that seems unrelated:
-Why did we let Arbër Çobaj leave!? Why?!
You feel guilty, so much so that looking at his father's tearful eyes, which resemble a piece of sky that is crying, you feel like saying to him:
-Arbër Çobaj, now he is in the sky, among the stars!
To say this perhaps as a consolation for the broken soul, but also as a great truth, but you don't say it. You can't say it. You don't say it even though Arbër Çobaj is really among the stars now and in the future, but because you know that after this, even the poetic coloring of speech would become worthless, while the lips of a father would say the most natural, most irrefutable, most shocking, simplest and most right thing that could be said:
-I wanted my son to be here in my arms!
I first met Arbër Çobaj, by chance, somewhere far away, under the sky of Spain. He was beautiful, he had warm eyes, he had a look full of kindness, and this had nothing to do with the southern land where I met him, but also with the equally southern plateau from which he originated. I recognized him from his eyes that seemed to say that it is not only this land here where we are that has olive trees and endless sun, but also a distant plateau named Bey, which seemed to travel with him.
I recognized him by traveling with him from corner to corner in the Hispanic land, where he did not forget to talk about everything. I recognized him through his speech in that beautiful Spanish. Sometimes, he seemed like an Albanian madly in love with Spain, sometimes like a Spaniard who had set foot there centuries ago!
I recognized him near the Sagrada Familia, where he tried to explain to me the history of every image carved on the cathedral.
I recognized him in a half-lit tavern, when suddenly in a corner of Madrid, to the sounds of Latin music, he, together with my friend Ramizi, gave me the most beautiful surprise.
From his phone, he started reciting my verses:
…A single woman teaches all women,
All the women in the world did not teach one woman!
He recited and smiled. He smiled so beautifully and I read that smile.
He was the age of my sons and I understood that in that smile there was a kind of beautiful love for their mothers, but also for those they have by their side.
I recognized him when someone one table away asked to hear those verses in his language and then he laughed too. The foreign man laughed and a bottle of red wine came to my table, and now, when Arbër Çobaj is in heaven, it seems to me that his beautiful gaze was also poured into that glass. I recognized that moment, which, quite unintentionally, will remain one of those moments that never comes twice.
Now that Arbër Çobaj is no more, every time I find myself under the Spanish sky, I will feel like an obligation, or like a hostage to, almost whispering, repeat those same two verses. I will feel like a hostage to whisper, like a debt from Arbër Çobaj, those two verses, but not exactly like that:
-A single soul holds the world inside, end to end,
But your soul, Arbër Çobaj, no world can hold it!
There is really no world that holds within itself the soul of Arbër Çobaj!
And for this, the fact that he feels cramped even there in heaven would be enough. He feels cramped as long as today and in the future, Arbër Çobaj will stand between heaven and earth. He feels cramped as long as he is both a star and a tear. He feels cramped as long as he is in two dimensions that no space holds.
In heaven, Arbër Çobaj is like a beautiful star, while down here, like a teardrop that slips and slips.
He slips in the eyes of his parents, in the eyes of his sister, in the eyes of his wife and especially of his children, who perhaps, more than others, in their world as children, have the right fantasy to believe that their father can turn into a real star.
It feels tight as long as Arbër Çobaj is in the sky, like a star that silently shines light for those he left behind, while down here, a deeply southern wail of lamentation follows his cortege. That loud wail, that southern speech, of his mother, sister and wife, goes beyond human pain.
That wail seems like a cry of stones sliding down the hill with the name of God there in the South. It is really like a wail that comes from the bosom of that hill:
-You shouldn't have left Arbër Çobaj!


Në përputhje me standarded JTI

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