{"id":1795,"date":"2017-09-05T09:57:08","date_gmt":"2017-09-05T09:57:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795"},"modified":"2017-09-05T09:57:08","modified_gmt":"2017-09-05T09:57:08","slug":"kodi-15-4-2017","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795","title":{"rendered":"Kodi 15-4\/ 2017"},"content":{"rendered":"

Vibrimet e shpirtit<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

E dashuroj nat\u00ebn, sepse err\u00ebsira qet\u00ebson trupin e un\u00eb mund ta \u00e7liroj leht\u00ebsisht shpirtin t\u00eb lundroj\u00eb nd\u00ebr tregime t\u00eb fshehta t\u00eb qet\u00ebsis\u00eb. At\u00eb nat\u00eb ma kishte \u00ebnda t\u00eb dilja, t\u00eb ecja n\u00eb sh\u00ebtitoren e qytetit, ashtu shkujdesur si p\u00ebrher\u00eb, e t\u2019thithja lumturuar ajrin bujar, e ndoshta shkujdesur s\u00ebrish t\u2019b\u00ebja ndonj\u00eb ecejake f\u00ebminore, se e dija q\u00eb yjet e qielli s\u2019kishin p\u00ebr t\u2019m\u00eb marr\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb \u00e7mendur.<\/p>\n

Llambadar\u00ebt an\u00ebs rrug\u00ebs m\u00eb shoq\u00ebronin e luanin me hijen time si prozhektor\u00ebt e nj\u00eb skene t\u00eb madhe. Hapat e mi trokisnin leht\u00eb mbi gur\u00eb, t\u00eb shqet\u00ebsuar mos turbullonin qet\u00ebsin\u00eb…<\/p>\n

Ndalova… N\u00eb kraharor ndjeva nj\u00eb ankth, trishtim e zbraz\u00ebti. Moti ndryshoi…<\/p>\n

Nj\u00eb ftoht\u00ebsi e trisht\u00eb zhduku yjet e l\u00ebshoi fjolla t\u00eb lehta d\u00ebbore mbi tok\u00eb e un\u00eb u drodha… B\u00ebra t\u00eb l\u00ebviz, por di\u00e7ka m\u2019i pengonte k\u00ebmb\u00ebt dhe me t\u00eb ulur kok\u00ebn, syt\u00eb pan\u00eb nj\u00eb trup njer\u00ebzor t\u00eb mbledhur grumbull, veshur me rrecka t\u00eb grisura, me lot t\u00eb ngrir\u00eb mes bor\u00ebs q\u00eb kishte z\u00ebn\u00eb vend mbi fytyr\u00ebn e tij t\u00eb vuajtur.<\/p>\n

U ula n\u00eb gjunj\u00eb. Mbulova trupin e tij me xhaket\u00ebn time e me duart e mia mb\u00ebshtolla t\u00eb tijat… t\u00eb ngrira… t\u00eb ngurta… Mes shuplakave t\u00eb tij, strukur brenda gjoksit, varej nj\u00eb zinxhir i shndritsh\u00ebm… T\u00ebrhoqa zinxhirin e n\u00eb t\u00eb varej nj\u00eb fotografi… nj\u00eb grua q\u00eb shtr\u00ebngonte n\u00eb krah\u00ebt e saj nj\u00eb foshnj\u00eb… Ia futa s\u00ebrish hajmalin\u00eb mes shuplakave dhe mbeta aty, e shtangur, duke e par\u00eb me dhimbje, inat e trishtim t\u00eb ng\u00ebrdheshura bashk\u00eb.<\/p>\n

Krejt papritur, ndjesit\u00eb u turbulluan prej nj\u00eb tingulli t\u00eb fuqish\u00ebm q\u00eb nga qielli, si kambanat e or\u00ebs. Ngrita kok\u00ebn… Qielli ishte skuqur e n\u00eb tensionin e tij drith\u00ebrues varej nj\u00eb or\u00eb me akrepa t\u00eb fiksuar e nj\u00eb dat\u00eb posht\u00eb saj… 02:00… 25 dhjetor 1933. Posht\u00eb k\u00ebmb\u00ebve toka nisi t\u00eb dridhej. Gur\u00ebt l\u00ebviz\u00ebn… u hap\u00ebn… mb\u00ebshtoll\u00ebn trupin e pajet\u00eb me p\u00ebrqafimin e tyre t\u00eb gurt\u00eb dhe e zhduk\u00ebn n\u00ebn ta. Xhaketa mbeti e zbraz\u00ebt.<\/p>\n

E tronditur, vazhdova t\u00eb ecja me nj\u00eb ndjesi ftoht\u00ebsie t\u00eb ethshme, t\u00eb mbetur n\u00eb duar. Teksa ecja, ndieja v\u00ebzhgimin e mureve t\u00eb gurta, q\u00eb kufizonin nj\u00eb rrugic\u00eb ku isha futur dhe ndihesha, \u00e7udit\u00ebrisht, her\u00eb e vog\u00ebl e her\u00eb e madhe, her\u00eb e vetmuar e her\u00eb jo, e frik\u00ebsuar… e pastaj e mrekulluar…<\/p>\n

Isha p\u00ebrhumbur n\u00eb mendime e ndjesi, kur papritur, nj\u00eb met\u00ebr m\u00eb tutje, shqova nj\u00eb hije t\u00eb ulur n\u00eb shkall\u00ebt e ul\u00ebta t\u00eb nj\u00eb sht\u00ebpie p\u00ebrdhese. Dridhej e l\u00ebshonte ca tinguj vaji, q\u00eb ta k\u00ebpusnin shpirtin. Nga larg u d\u00ebgjua nj\u00eb z\u00eb f\u00ebmije:<\/p>\n

– Po vijn\u00eb trimat!<\/p>\n

Hija brofi n\u00eb k\u00ebmb\u00eb, e k\u00ebrrusur e me dor\u00ebn shtr\u00ebnguar n\u00eb zem\u00ebr shikonte nga erdhi z\u00ebri. Ishte nj\u00eb grua e moshuar rreth t\u00eb shtat\u00ebdhjetave dhe e gjith\u00eb jeta i lexohej n\u00eb rrudhat e shumta, q\u00eb s\u2019i kishin l\u00ebn\u00eb shprehi tjet\u00ebr n\u00eb fytyr\u00eb ve\u00e7 vuajtjes, shpres\u00ebs dhe \u00ebmb\u00eblsis\u00eb. Nga fundi i rrugic\u00ebs arriti t\u00eb dallonte nusen. Me gjysm\u00eb z\u00ebri, me shpirtin t\u00eb sfilitur, e pyeti:<\/p>\n

– Bardha… nuk e pe Lulin?<\/p>\n

Bardha kishte z\u00ebn\u00eb prej dore nj\u00eb djal\u00eb t\u00eb vog\u00ebl rreth gjasht\u00eb-shtat\u00eb vje\u00e7 dhe si t\u2019i kishte ngecur di\u00e7ka n\u00eb fyt, u p\u00ebrgjigj:<\/p>\n

– Jo…<\/p>\n

– Ehhh!… – ia priti gruaja e moshuar dhe vazhdonte t\u00eb shikonte nga kishte ardhur z\u00ebri.<\/p>\n

– N\u00ebn\u00eb, futuni brenda se po fryn er\u00eb.<\/p>\n

Gruaja e moshuar s\u2019l\u00ebvizi.<\/p>\n

– Po pres djalin… – tha, e nj\u00eb pik\u00eb loti i p\u00ebrk\u00ebdheli rrudhat.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Rrinte pa l\u00ebvizur, me syt\u00eb n\u00eb tok\u00eb. Pran\u00eb meje kaloi nj\u00eb burr\u00eb i gjat\u00eb, mjekrosh e me supe t\u00eb gjera, mbuluar me ca rroba t\u00eb vjetruara. Iu afrua gruas e ia mb\u00ebshteti dor\u00ebn te supi i saj i im\u00ebt. Ajo ngriti kok\u00ebn, e asnj\u00eb rrudh\u00eb s\u2019mundi t\u2019ia fshihte lumturin\u00eb e madhe q\u00eb po i shp\u00ebrthente aq madh\u00ebrisht nga e gjith\u00eb qenia e saj.<\/p>\n

– Lul, biri im… biri im i shpirtit! – foli e u derdh n\u00eb krah\u00ebt e tij me nj\u00eb mall e dashuri, q\u00eb vet\u00ebm t\u00eb mblidheshin bashk\u00eb gjith\u00eb shprehit\u00eb m\u00eb t\u00eb ndjera t\u00eb dashuris\u00eb am\u00ebsore, nga shkrimet m\u00eb t\u00eb bukura t\u00eb gjigand\u00ebve t\u00eb let\u00ebrsis\u00eb, mund t\u2019ia matnin pesh\u00ebn.<\/p>\n

Lot\u00ebt i rridhnin rr\u00ebke teksa th\u00ebrriste:<\/p>\n

– Bardha!… Bardha!<\/p>\n

Luli ktheu syt\u00eb nga dera. Bardha doli me t\u00eb shpejt\u00eb e, kur hapi der\u00ebn, ngriu, nuk i besonte syve. Vrapoi ta p\u00ebrqafonte, t\u2019ia prekte fytyr\u00ebn, supin, duart, t\u00eb bindej se ishte e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb gjith\u00eb ajo lumturi. Te dera u duk djali i vog\u00ebl.<\/p>\n

– Bir, shko p\u00ebrqafo baban\u00eb! – th\u00ebrriti gruaja e moshuar.<\/p>\n

Luli d\u00ebgjoi k\u00ebto fjal\u00eb, pa djalin te dera, e duket sikur p\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment harroi gjith\u00eb zjarret, plumbat, frik\u00ebn e jet\u00ebs, t\u00eb cilat s\u2019i pati njomur me as edhe nj\u00eb pik\u00eb loti, e tani, nisi t\u00eb qante me d\u00ebnes\u00eb. Edhe Bardha qante. Djali shikonte me \u00e7udi e frik\u00eb burrin e gjat\u00eb p\u00ebrball\u00eb tij e dukej sikur ai s\u2019i afrohej aspak imagjinat\u00ebs s\u00eb tij p\u00ebr baban\u00eb hero, p\u00ebr t\u00eb cilin e \u00ebma me siguri i ka treguar shum\u00eb histori net\u00ebve p\u00ebrpara lutjeve. Luli e ngriti djalin n\u00eb krah\u00eb, e shtr\u00ebngoi fort mes tyre dhe duke qar\u00eb i tha:<\/p>\n

– Sa shum\u00eb qenke rritur, bir!<\/p>\n

Nga diku, larg, u d\u00ebgjua nj\u00eb klithm\u00eb mortore, e thikt\u00eb, pafund\u00ebsisht e dhimbshme. N\u00ebna ia shtr\u00ebngoi fuqish\u00ebm dor\u00ebn Lulit dhe t\u00eb kat\u00ebrt u fut\u00ebn brenda. Dera ting\u00eblloi fort e un\u00eb u p\u00ebrmenda, si t\u00eb isha zgjuar nga nj\u00eb \u00ebnd\u00ebrr e ngarkuar. Duke ecur v\u00ebrejta t\u00eb varur n\u00eb mur nj\u00eb pllakad\u00eb ku shkruhej: \u201c20 n\u00ebntor 1944 – parakaluan partizan\u00ebt e qytetit t\u00eb mbijetuar nga Lufta e Dyt\u00eb Bot\u00ebrore\u201d.<\/p>\n

Mbeta duke menduar, q\u00eb luft\u00eb, luft\u00ebtar\u00eb e t\u00eb r\u00ebn\u00eb ka n\u00eb \u00e7do koh\u00eb, ve\u00e7se n\u00eb mas\u00eb m\u00eb t\u00eb vog\u00ebl e ky realitet m\u00eb theri n\u00eb shpirt. Ndjeva t\u00eb neveritsh\u00ebm e t\u00eb pakuptuesh\u00ebm egoizmin natyral t\u00eb qenies njer\u00ebzore, q\u00eb n\u00eb k\u00ebto skena villet i p\u00ebrbindshm\u00ebruar me kot\u00ebsi, absurditet, verb\u00ebri e \u00e7njer\u00ebzi. Nga ana tjet\u00ebr e n\u00eb t\u00eb shumt\u00ebn e rasteve paralel me egoizmin, s\u00ebmundja e pushtetit \u00ebsht\u00eb m\u00eb e r\u00ebnda. \u00cbsht\u00eb nj\u00eb s\u00ebmundje djall\u00ebzore, q\u00eb t\u00eb pushton dal\u00ebngadal\u00eb duke shuar ekzistenc\u00ebn, vdekja m\u00eb tragjike p\u00ebr s\u00eb gjalli. Bot\u00eb absurde!<\/p>\n

Ka p\u00ebr t\u00eb pushuar kur njeriu t\u00eb shpluhuros\u00eb shpirtin, e n\u00eb trajt\u00ebn e tij t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00eb t\u00eb rr\u00ebz\u00ebllejn\u00eb k\u00ebto tri m\u00ebsime t\u00eb gjenez\u00ebs:<\/p>\n

    \n
  1. Misioni yt \u00ebsht\u00eb dashuria.<\/li>\n
  2. Dashuro t\u00eb bukur\u00ebn.<\/li>\n
  3. E bukura \u00ebsht\u00eb gjithkund.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    … Ose ndoshta edhe at\u00ebher\u00eb s\u2019ka p\u00ebr t\u00eb pushuar… Ose ndoshta akoma, shpirti s\u2019ka p\u00ebr t\u2019qen\u00eb kurr\u00eb aq i fort\u00eb, sa p\u00ebr t\u00eb thyer korac\u00ebn e hekurt t\u2019egoizmit e shpirtrat e padashuruara do vazhdojn\u00eb t\u00eb vdesin nga uria… Kushedi!…<\/p>\n

    M\u00eb rrokulliseshin k\u00ebto mendime n\u00ebp\u00ebr kok\u00eb e p\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment u p\u00ebrzien me ca z\u00ebra t\u00eb urryera dhe dinamika e mendimeve u qet\u00ebsua. Z\u00ebrat vinin nga nj\u00eb rrugic\u00eb tjet\u00ebr p\u00ebrkarshi. Mb\u00ebrrita te kthesa e zgjata kok\u00ebn t\u00eb shikoja. Nj\u00eb grup djemsh e vajzash kishin lidhur n\u00eb \u201cshtyll\u00ebn e turpit\u201d nj\u00eb vajz\u00eb moshatare t\u00eb tyre. Me dh\u00ebmb\u00eb jasht\u00eb gajaseshin, si ca karikatura t\u00eb shp\u00ebrfytyruara, duke e gjuajtur me fjal\u00eb t\u00eb tilla:<\/p>\n

    – Sa e sh\u00ebmtuar je!… (ha-ha-ha)… Pse nuk vdes?!… (ha-ha-ha)…<\/p>\n

    Nj\u00eb tjet\u00ebr e t\u00ebrhoqi nga flok\u00ebt dhe i shfrynte:<\/p>\n

    – \u00c7\u2019i ke k\u00ebto flok\u00eb k\u00ebshtu?! Nuk pat\u00ebn m\u00eb vend n\u00eb kopshtin zoologjik q\u00eb t\u00eb lan\u00eb jasht\u00eb?… (ha-ha-ha)…<\/p>\n

    Vajza e gjor\u00eb! Gjith\u00eb ajo tortur\u00eb psikologjike, ia kishte ngjyrosur dhimbsh\u00ebm fytyr\u00ebn. Ishte skuqur e nxir\u00eb e me syt\u00eb nga toka p\u00ebrpiqej t\u00eb largohej. U d\u00ebgjua nj\u00eb z\u00eb nga audienca fem\u00ebrore:<\/p>\n

    – Boll tani, se \u00ebsht\u00eb gjynah…<\/p>\n

    Vajza ngriti syt\u00eb n\u00eb at\u00eb moment, t\u00eb cil\u00ebt iu vesh\u00ebn rrufesh\u00ebm me neveri, sikur n\u00eb ta t\u00eb ishte shkruar: \u201cUn\u00eb… gjynah?!\u201d.<\/p>\n

    Me t\u00eb th\u00ebn\u00eb ato fjal\u00eb, p\u00ebrfaq\u00ebsuesja nga audienca fem\u00ebrore ia rroku shpatullat nj\u00eb prej krer\u00ebve t\u00eb budallenjve edhe grupi nisi t\u00eb largohej. Vajza ndihej e lodhur dhe nj\u00eb ndjesi e sh\u00ebmtuar i kishte mbetur mes kraharorit. Si p\u00ebr t\u00eb \u00e7liruar sadopak shpirtin prej asaj ndjesie t\u00eb llumt\u00eb, nga syt\u00eb e saj pikonin me ngurrim ca pik\u00ebza loti, q\u00eb puthnin me afsh gur\u00ebt e ftoht\u00eb p\u00ebrgjat\u00eb rrugic\u00ebs e n\u00eb avullimin e tyre dukej sikur fosilizonin n\u00eb ta historin\u00eb e ngarkuar. Nxitova t\u2019i afrohesha. Doja t\u2019i thosha ca fjal\u00eb q\u00eb do kisha dashur t\u2019m\u2019i kishte th\u00ebn\u00eb dhe mua dikush, para se t\u2019m\u00ebsoja t\u00eb d\u00ebgjoja shpirtin. Edhe pse e dija q\u00eb s\u2019kishte p\u00ebr t\u2019m\u00eb d\u00ebgjuar, qenia ime kishte nevoj\u00eb t\u2019i fliste qytetit, ajrit, qiellit, vetes:<\/p>\n

    \u201cMos e struk veten n\u00ebn heshtat e t\u00eb humburve. Mos i urrej t\u00eb humburit e as mos i faj\u00ebso, q\u00eb po i derdhin mbi ty t\u00eb zezat e jet\u00ebs s\u00eb tyre. Edhe pse jan\u00eb vras\u00ebs t\u00eb diellit n\u00eb dit\u00ebt e tua, edhe pse pa gjak n\u00eb duar, vrasin gj\u00ebrat m\u00eb t\u00eb \u00e7muara t\u00eb jet\u00ebs, ti thjesht m\u00ebshiroji. E di pse?… Sepse \u00ebsht\u00eb e v\u00ebshtir\u00eb t\u2019i ruash qelqet t\u00eb kristalta, kur shiu, acid i tejmbushur me vrer\u00ebt e njer\u00ebzimit, godet si ca lot t\u00eb inatosur mbi ty. Ruaje shpirtin edhe kur ta shtypin, ta godasin dhe prap\u00eb fali, se jan\u00eb t\u00eb dob\u00ebt e s\u2019qe zgjedhja e tyre. Ruaje fort, q\u00eb t\u2019ec\u00ebsh e gjall\u00eb mes ushtris\u00eb s\u00eb zombive.\u201d<\/p>\n

    Vajza ngriti kok\u00ebn, mprehu shikimin e saj t\u00eb varur, e nj\u00eb buz\u00ebqeshje e leht\u00eb i ndri\u00e7oi syt\u00eb. M\u00eb d\u00ebgjoi?!… Mendoj se thjesht ka menduar t\u00eb nj\u00ebjtat gj\u00ebra si un\u00eb.<\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    Pak m\u00eb tutje u hap nj\u00eb port\u00eb e para saj ishte nj\u00eb djal\u00eb i ri rreth t\u00eb nj\u00ebzetave. P\u00ebrball\u00eb q\u00ebndronte nj\u00eb burr\u00eb i veshur me kostum t\u00eb zi dhe kollare me vija t\u00eb kuqe e t\u00eb zeza. Djali po i thoshte:<\/p>\n

    – Ju lutem, m\u00eb kini parasysh, kam shum\u00eb nevoj\u00eb p\u00ebr nj\u00eb pun\u00eb… Ju e dini… n\u00ebna ime \u00ebsht\u00eb s\u00ebmur\u00eb dhe…<\/p>\n

    – Sigurisht, sigurisht, – ia preu fjal\u00ebn burri me kollare dhe mbylli der\u00ebn me t\u00eb shpejt\u00eb.<\/p>\n

    Ajo i k\u00ebrciti fort p\u00ebrpara fytyr\u00ebs e djali puliti syt\u00eb e trisht\u00eb. Mbeti aty p\u00ebrpara der\u00ebs p\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment. I hodhi nj\u00eb v\u00ebshtrim shpres\u00ebvak\u00ebt letrave q\u00eb mbante n\u00eb duar. Me l\u00ebvizje t\u00eb ngadalta, i futi ato n\u00eb \u00e7ant\u00eb dhe u largua. Te dera shkruhej: \u201cZyra e Pun\u00ebsimit\u201d dhe kudo n\u00ebp\u00ebr lajm\u00ebrime t\u00eb varura aty, shkruhej: \u201cShkurt 2008\u201d. M\u2019u kujtua p\u00ebr nj\u00eb \u00e7ast vajza. S\u2019kisha kuptuar q\u00eb ishte larguar. Edhe lajm\u00ebrimet ishin zhdukur bashk\u00eb me t\u00eb…<\/p>\n

    Shkova deri n\u00eb fund t\u00eb rrugic\u00ebs dhe e gjeta veten s\u00ebrish n\u00eb sh\u00ebtitore. N\u00eb at\u00eb moment qielli u b\u00eb drit\u00eb. Sh\u00ebtitorja nisi t\u00eb g\u00eblonte e nj\u00eb p\u00ebrzierje frym\u00ebmbush\u00ebse prej k\u00ebng\u00ebsh e z\u00ebrash f\u00ebminor\u00eb, tingujsh kitare, daullesh, karuzeli, bi\u00e7ikletash… ndihej n\u00eb aj\u00ebr. M\u00eb dukeshin t\u00eb njohur gjith\u00eb ato tinguj, z\u00ebra, pamje, sikur t\u2019i kisha d\u00ebgjuar e t\u2019i kisha par\u00eb edhe nj\u00eb her\u00eb tjet\u00ebr, shum\u00eb koh\u00eb m\u00eb par\u00eb.<\/p>\n

    Sh\u00ebtisja dhe un\u00eb mes njer\u00ebzve. Diku m\u00eb zun\u00eb syt\u00eb nj\u00eb vajz\u00eb t\u00eb vog\u00ebl, e cila k\u00ebrcente hopthi, gjith\u00eb g\u00ebzim, aty-k\u00ebtu, hera-her\u00ebs rrotullohej dhe p\u00ebrpiqej t\u00eb b\u00ebnte ndonj\u00eb \u201cpiruet\u00eb\u201d, e n\u00eb k\u00ebto p\u00ebrpjekje humbiste ekuilibrin dhe rr\u00ebzohej duke qeshur. Ngrihej s\u00ebrish e kur ia dilte i drejtohej s\u00eb \u00ebm\u00ebs (e cila ndodhej aty pran\u00eb duke kuvenduar zellsh\u00ebm me nj\u00eb shoqe) duke e t\u00ebrhequr prej fustani:<\/p>\n

    – Mami… mami, shiko si e b\u00ebj piruet\u00ebn, – dhe rrotullohej.<\/p>\n

    E lumtur q\u00eb s\u2019u rr\u00ebzua, kthente syt\u00eb e shk\u00eblqyesh\u00ebm nga e \u00ebma, e cila vazhdonte t\u00eb d\u00ebgjonte e p\u00ebrqendruar muhabetin \u201ce r\u00ebnd\u00ebsish\u00ebm\u201d t\u00eb shoqes s\u00eb saj dhe pa kthyer kok\u00ebn p\u00ebrgjigjej that\u00eb:<\/p>\n

    – Shum\u00eb bukur, shpirti i mamit!<\/p>\n

    M\u00eb tutje, nj\u00eb djalosh imcak luante duke vrapuar me nj\u00eb aeroplan n\u00eb dor\u00eb e me t\u00eb p\u00ebrshkonte gjith\u00eb sh\u00ebtitoren duke u futur mes k\u00ebmb\u00ebve t\u00eb njer\u00ebzve. Diku tjet\u00ebr, nj\u00eb djal\u00eb, ulur n\u00eb ca shkall\u00eb t\u00eb gjendura aty, k\u00ebndonte e luante n\u00eb kitar\u00eb duke i shtuar ca ngjyrime m\u00eb tep\u00ebr asaj gjall\u00ebrie t\u00eb adhurueshme. Nj\u00eb \u00e7ift i k\u00ebndsh\u00ebm pleqsh ishin ulur n\u00eb stol, shtr\u00ebnguar n\u00eb krah\u00ebt e nj\u00ebri-tjetrit dhe sodisnin me mall\u00ebngjim e dashuri, g\u00ebzimin e past\u00ebr e t\u00eb vyer p\u00ebr thjesht\u00ebsin\u00eb e t\u00eb zakonshmen.<\/p>\n

    An\u00ebs sh\u00ebtitores ndodhej nj\u00eb piktor me ca piktura t\u00eb tij e, nd\u00ebrkoh\u00eb, vazhdonte t\u00eb hidhte n\u00eb telajo \u00e7do gj\u00eb q\u00eb shqisat i d\u00ebrgonin shpirtit. Sa t\u00eb mrekullueshme ishin! N\u00eb nj\u00eb prej tyre kishte pikturuar nj\u00eb balerin\u00eb duke dh\u00ebn\u00eb shfaqje n\u00eb nj\u00eb teat\u00ebr madh\u00ebshtor. N\u00eb nj\u00eb tjet\u00ebr dukej nj\u00eb aviator, q\u00eb \u00e7ante ret\u00eb e sip\u00ebr tij nj\u00eb qiell i kthjell\u00ebt… Nj\u00eb k\u00ebng\u00ebtar q\u00eb ndante shpirtin me mij\u00ebra muzik\u00ebdash\u00ebs n\u00eb nj\u00eb sken\u00eb t\u00eb madhe, si dhe nj\u00eb \u00e7ift t\u00eb rinjsh, t\u00eb p\u00ebrqafuar, ulur n\u00eb stolin e sh\u00ebtitores s\u00eb nj\u00eb qyteti t\u00eb gurt\u00eb q\u00eb gjallonte.<\/p>\n

    U d\u00ebgjua ting\u00ebllima plak\u00eb e sahatit, q\u00eb njoftoi or\u00ebn 17:00. Lart ishte varur nj\u00eb shirit i madh, i shk\u00eblqyesh\u00ebm \u201cG\u00ebzuar Vitin e Ri 2004\u201d. Nisi t\u00eb binte err\u00ebsira duke zbuluar yjet, ata v\u00ebzhgues t\u00eb heshtur t\u00eb historive m\u00eb t\u00eb larg\u00ebta. Pask\u00ebtaj gjith\u00e7ka ra n\u00eb qet\u00ebsi dhe sh\u00ebtitorja u zbraz. Nj\u00eb g\u00ebzim i kulluar f\u00ebminor nisi t\u00eb lul\u00ebzonte n\u00eb kraharor. Gur\u00ebt ting\u00ebllonin melodin\u00eb e hareshme t\u00eb energjis\u00eb s\u00eb strukur, humbur dhimbsh\u00ebm diku n\u00eb thell\u00ebsit\u00eb e qenies. Kjo melodi shoq\u00ebrohej prej nj\u00eb trokitjeje ritmike, t\u00eb lodhur, q\u00eb m\u00eb ngjyroste g\u00ebzimin me dhimbje dhe mall\u00ebngjim. Nga larg, drejt meje, po vinte nj\u00eb plak me shkop dhe nj\u00eb vajz\u00eb e vog\u00ebl. Vajza kishte sy mrekullisht t\u00eb ndritsh\u00ebm, si \u00e7do f\u00ebmij\u00eb dhe… (buz\u00ebqesha)… ajo kishte k\u00ebmb\u00ebt m\u00eb t\u00eb lumtura q\u00eb kisha par\u00eb ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb… Teksa afroheshin fytyra e plakut m\u00eb b\u00ebhej e \u00ebmb\u00ebl, e dashur, e njohur… dhe ca lot prej mallit shk\u00eblqyen syt\u00eb e mi. Kisha koh\u00eb q\u00eb s\u2019e kisha par\u00eb gjyshin… N\u00eb p\u00ebrpjekje p\u00ebr ta p\u00ebrqafuar, ata kaluan p\u00ebrmes meje e un\u00eb u ktheva t\u00eb shikoja teksa zhdukeshin n\u00eb num\u00ebrimin e hapave… Instinktivisht, nisa t\u00eb ndjek hapat e mjegulluar t\u00eb vog\u00eblushes, q\u00eb tani s\u2019dukej m\u00eb.<\/p>\n

    Nj\u00eb arom\u00eb e njohur kokoshkash e sheqeri ngacmoi \u00ebmb\u00eblsisht tek un\u00eb kujtime. Pa kuptuar kisha ecur deri n\u00eb parkun e lodrave. Shkova ngadal\u00eb drejt karuzelit dhe i hipa nj\u00eb prej kuajve… Tanim\u00eb s\u2019ishte e v\u00ebshtir\u00eb si at\u00ebher\u00eb, e s\u2019ishte nevoja q\u00eb babi t\u2019m\u00eb ngrinte n\u00eb krah\u00eb… (buz\u00ebqesha)… L\u00ebmova kalin me duar… dritat u ndez\u00ebn, vendosa duart mbi mbajt\u00ebse… bota rreth meje nisi t\u00eb rrotullohej dhe qet\u00ebsia u mbush me britma hareje. Duke u rrotulluar, nj\u00eb varg kujtimesh gjithnj\u00eb n\u00eb rritje m\u00eb ndiqnin nga pas, e nj\u00eb hap gjithnj\u00eb e m\u00eb i madh skulpturonte asfaltin, her\u00eb me \u00e7ikjen e leht\u00eb t\u00eb nj\u00eb balerine e her\u00eb t\u00eb tjera me tronditjen drith\u00ebruese t\u00eb nj\u00eb t\u00ebrmeti… Bota fiku dritat, heshti dhe ndaloi…<\/p>\n

    Me kok\u00ebn t\u00eb r\u00ebnduar dhe trupin t\u00eb leht\u00eb, ndieja n\u00eb ecjen time nj\u00eb udh\u00ebtim t\u00eb lart\u00ebsuar n\u00ebp\u00ebr koh\u00eb… E gjeta veten tek ura… Ndoshta s\u2019do isha p\u00ebrmendur p\u00ebr nj\u00eb koh\u00eb t\u00eb gjat\u00eb, n\u00eb qoft\u00eb se k\u00ebmb\u00ebt s\u2019do m\u00eb kishin \u00e7uar atje. Shelgu q\u00ebndronte aq i bukur aty p\u00ebrball\u00eb meje dhe deg\u00ebt e tij val\u00ebzuese prej er\u00ebs, ishin k\u00ebrcimtaret m\u00eb t\u00eb mira e hipnotizuese t\u00eb simfonis\u00eb s\u00eb qet\u00ebsis\u00eb. Edhe at\u00eb dit\u00eb ato vall\u00ebzonin lumturisht n\u00ebn p\u00ebrk\u00ebdheljen e nj\u00eb ere t\u00eb leht\u00eb pranverore. Vendosa instinktivisht dor\u00ebn n\u00eb bordur\u00ebn e ur\u00ebs dhe mbylla syt\u00eb… Ndjeva mbi dor\u00ebn time ngroht\u00ebsin\u00eb dhe pushtimin e nj\u00eb dore tjet\u00ebr e trupi m\u2019u drodh edhe nj\u00eb her\u00eb… si at\u00eb dit\u00eb… Hapa syt\u00eb. Mbeta aty p\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment, me ndjenj\u00ebn e rizgjimit n\u00eb kraharor t\u00eb pranver\u00ebs m\u00eb t\u00eb bukur… Ah… \u00e7\u2019mall m\u00eb kishte marr\u00eb!…Vet\u00ebm shelgu e di \u00e7\u2019shp\u00ebrq\u00ebndrim i \u00ebmb\u00ebl vizatohej n\u00eb fytyr\u00ebn time e n\u00eb syt\u00eb nj\u00eb dhimbjeje t\u00eb dashur. Sa mir\u00eb q\u00eb s\u2019ka goj\u00eb t\u00eb flas\u00eb… e m\u00eb ngjan sikur me heshtjen e tij madh\u00ebshtore, m\u2019i thur lavde ndjenj\u00ebs, ma ruan t\u00eb kristalt\u00eb, t\u00eb past\u00ebr e notat e saj ia plot\u00ebson simfonis\u00eb… Ca tinguj t\u00eb \u00ebmb\u00ebl po m\u2019i sillte bashk\u00eb me er\u00ebn, ur\u00ebn… At\u00eb dit\u00eb… m\u00eb kujtohet… kishte qen\u00eb dhe nj\u00eb plak, ulur n\u00eb stolin ngjitur bordur\u00ebs, dhe luante dashurisht, melodi t\u00eb ndiera me violin\u00ebn e tij. U ula n\u00eb stol dhe q\u00ebndrova aty duke shijuar tingujt e violin\u00ebs, q\u00eb luheshin ende t\u00eb gjall\u00eb n\u00eb kok\u00ebn time.<\/p>\n

    Sodisja \u00e7\u2019m\u00eb rrethonte dhe dashurova at\u00eb qet\u00ebsi, heshtje, ngurt\u00ebsi solemne, q\u00eb fshihte aq hyjsh\u00ebm gjith\u00eb trajtat e dinamik\u00ebs s\u00eb shpirtit dhe q\u00eb fotografonte\/mpikste \u00e7do hap, frym\u00ebmarrje, l\u00ebvizje… si p\u00ebr t\u2019th\u00ebn\u00eb, q\u00eb ekzistenca lind e vdes me gjith\u00ebsin\u00eb dhe forma e saj varet nga veprat, zgjedhjet e moszgjedhjet, gjat\u00eb koh\u00ebs mes lindjes e vdekjes s\u00eb perceptueshme.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Vibrimet e shpirtit   E dashuroj nat\u00ebn, sepse err\u00ebsira qet\u00ebson trupin e un\u00eb mund ta \u00e7liroj leht\u00ebsisht shpirtin t\u00eb lundroj\u00eb nd\u00ebr tregime t\u00eb fshehta t\u00eb qet\u00ebsis\u00eb. At\u00eb nat\u00eb ma kishte \u00ebnda t\u00eb dilja, t\u00eb ecja n\u00eb sh\u00ebtitoren e qytetit, ashtu shkujdesur si p\u00ebrher\u00eb, e t\u2019thithja lumturuar ajrin bujar, e ndoshta shkujdesur s\u00ebrish t\u2019b\u00ebja ndonj\u00eb ecejake […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1796,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[57],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\nKodi 15-4\/ 2017 - Instituti Libri Promocioni<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Kodi 15-4\/ 2017 - Instituti Libri Promocioni\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Vibrimet e shpirtit   E dashuroj nat\u00ebn, sepse err\u00ebsira qet\u00ebson trupin e un\u00eb mund ta \u00e7liroj leht\u00ebsisht shpirtin t\u00eb lundroj\u00eb nd\u00ebr tregime t\u00eb fshehta t\u00eb qet\u00ebsis\u00eb. 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At\u00eb nat\u00eb ma kishte \u00ebnda t\u00eb dilja, t\u00eb ecja n\u00eb sh\u00ebtitoren e qytetit, ashtu shkujdesur si p\u00ebrher\u00eb, e t\u2019thithja lumturuar ajrin bujar, e ndoshta shkujdesur s\u00ebrish t\u2019b\u00ebja ndonj\u00eb ecejake […]","og_url":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795","og_site_name":"Instituti Libri Promocioni","article_published_time":"2017-09-05T09:57:08+00:00","og_image":[{"width":3508,"height":2480,"url":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/15-4.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"jurgen.12@gmail.com","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"jurgen.12@gmail.com","Est. reading time":"15 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795","url":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795","name":"Kodi 15-4\/ 2017 - Instituti Libri Promocioni","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/#website"},"datePublished":"2017-09-05T09:57:08+00:00","dateModified":"2017-09-05T09:57:08+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/#\/schema\/person\/d6e498c519a40237aae31024f223b513"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795"]}]},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?p=1795#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"Kodi 15-4\/ 2017"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/#website","url":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/","name":"Instituti Libri Promocioni","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":"required name=search_term_string"}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/#\/schema\/person\/d6e498c519a40237aae31024f223b513","name":"jurgen.12@gmail.com","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/b8139bf4427d38c003912081ca558c83?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/b8139bf4427d38c003912081ca558c83?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"jurgen.12@gmail.com"},"url":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/?author=2"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1795"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1795"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1795\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1796"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1795"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1795"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/institutilibripromocioni.al\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1795"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}