The Fortieth Jubilee... Tomorrow Will Be Sweeter
The elder entered the diwaniya wearing the undershirt of a tracksuit and his thawb over it, carrying a cake with four candles.
He greeted them, paused, and said: “I am delighted, brothers, to celebrate with you the fortieth anniversary of my firm belief that tomorrow is better than today.”
Silence fell… then the diwaniya erupted in laughter.
The young man said: “Now I understand. Each candle represents ten years of waiting.”
The elder smiled, tucked in the sleeves of his thawb, and began cutting the cake into triangles and squares… as if he were allocating the diwaniya’s budget.
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The disabled man said: “Masha’Allah… forty years with the same hope? That’s not just a number; it should be entered into the Guinness Book of Records under the category of longest period of waiting without boredom.”
The elder laughed and said: “It’s not just me. There are people in the country who have been saying for years: ‘Next year will be better.’”
At this point, the expert pulled a calculator from his pocket and said: “By the blessings upon the Prophet, I calculated it. Over forty years, you’ve said ‘tomorrow is better’ approximately 10,789 times. And the result? Tomorrow became today, and today became yesterday. As for ‘the better,’ its location on the map has not yet been determined.”
The young man, while filming the cake, said: “I posted a story titled: ‘The Fortieth Anniversary of Optimism.’ The first comment read: ‘Here’s to sixty.’”
The disabled man, taking a piece of cake, said: “The whole world has changed its phones five to ten times, and changed its cars and homes. Yet this man is still running on the same system: ‘Tomorrow is better’ – Version 1986.”
The young man laughed and said: “By God, if optimism were gasoline, it would have circled the globe three times by now.”
The elder sighed, took the last sip of tea, and said: “The problem isn’t that I’m optimistic. The problem is that every time a year ended, I said: ‘Next year.’ Every time a month ended, I said: ‘Next month.’ Every week, I said: ‘Next week.’ Until I became convinced that even the next minute is better. I started watching the clock more than I watch the future.”
The man adjusted his shemagh and said: “Listen, Hajji. Optimism by itself is like plain coffee. But optimism combined with action is like coffee with milk. You’ve been drinking it plain for forty years. Let’s start adding milk from today.”
He paused, then smiled and said: “But honestly, the cake is delicious. Here’s to celebrating the first dream coming true.”
Everyone laughed, and each took a piece of cake. Suddenly, the wealthy man said: “I asked sleep: ‘Why don’t you sleep?’ It replied: ‘Maybe you’re in love?’ I said: ‘Shut up… you were asleep until Maghrib.’”
At that moment, the voice of Sheikh Zaghloul rose, calling the congregation to the Dhuhr prayer. We realized that time waits for no one, and that the better tomorrow begins with today’s work, not with waiting for tomorrow.
A Kuwaiti writer
