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A brief visit with the Dervish and a surprising twist…
‘Some time ago I lived in some rather extraordinary conditions’, said the Dervish. ‘An almost daily maelstrom usually starting with a screeched name in the early morning. Followed by several incantations of promised violence interspersed with more screeching. Having been screeched awake, I tended to assume the start of the day by greeting the purveyors of the almost daily ritual of verbal violence. I was greeted in return, even if the greetings were cursory. For the rest it was me then doing my best to cope with the stony silences and hang-dog faces that signalled the start of a new day; and once, even a whole new year. The hang-dog faces and muttering and general high drama might continue through the day and sometimes continue (with minor reprieves) for days. Or it might not. Replaced instead with hysterical laughter shared by the former combatants as they collectively hunched over their mobile screens. This was a space and time of high emotion, shouts, screeches, wild declarations and wilder ultimatums. Made plans and cancelled plans criss-crossing each other with a ferocity and rapidness matched only by the viciousness of the words spat at each other. And the general grump of the space following these outbursts. All of this taking place anytime between four and seven am.’
