{"id":30887,"date":"2018-07-08T00:33:01","date_gmt":"2018-07-07T22:33:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fjala.info\/?p=30887"},"modified":"2018-07-08T00:45:47","modified_gmt":"2018-07-07T22:45:47","slug":"nenave-baballareve-lulekuqeve","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jehonashqiptare.al\/fjala\/nenave-baballareve-lulekuqeve\/","title":{"rendered":"N\u00ebnave, Baballar\u00ebve, Lul\u00ebkuqeve\u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"

Poeti Adem GASHI<\/strong>:<\/p>\n

JETA ZHITIA<\/strong>*<\/p>\n

shum\u00eb t\u00eb rr\u00ebpir\u00ebta k\u00ebto bjeshk\u00ebt tona, bre
\nprer\u00eb me brisk shiu e rrufeje
\ne plag\u00ebfashuar me p\u00eblhur\u00eb t\u00eb bardh\u00eb bore<\/p>\n

kurrizdalat e qenies son\u00eb<\/p>\n

e vjen Jeta, ajo e reja
\nt\u2019i kap\u00eb majat me dor\u00eb
\ne t\u00eb na i zbus\u00eb dhembjet e vragave<\/p>\n

e dini, Jeta \u00ebsht\u00eb ajo lulja lulebor\u00eb
\nq\u00eb mori mbar\u00eb nga Gjermania e k\u00ebtej
\nq\u00eb na tha Mir\u00ebm\u00ebngjesi
\nn\u00eb vend guten Morgen<\/p>\n

Jeta, \u00ebsht\u00eb ajo bre, e \u00ebmbla
\nq\u00eb kur shkruan cic\u00ebrin \u00ebmb\u00ebl me shkronja
\ne na b\u00ebn ta duam \u201cgluh\u00ebn\u00eb e vendit t\u2019\u00ebn\u00eb\u201d
\n__________________<\/p>\n

* Shkrimtare e re shqiptaro-gjermane, shum\u00eb e talentuar<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\n

N\u00ebnave, Baballar\u00ebve, Lul\u00ebkuqeve\u2026<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Nga Jeta Zhitia<\/strong>*, 4 korrik 2018<\/em><\/p>\n

Ka kaluar mesnata. Jam ende zgjuar duke d\u00ebgjuar muzik\u00eb nga Karunesh. Dritarja \u00ebsht\u00eb e hapur, Tirana e p\u00ebrgjumur n\u00ebn shiun q\u00eb nuk ndalet prej dit\u00ebsh. Z\u00ebri m\u00eb ka ndryshuar si Osumi n\u00eb ver\u00eb, fytin e ndjej t\u00eb that\u00eb, shum\u00eb t\u00eb that\u00eb.<\/p>\n

Nj\u00eb puhiz\u00eb hyn nga dritarja. Xhupin e kam zb\u00ebrthyer n\u00eb gjoks q\u00eb puhiza t\u00eb ma mb\u00ebrrij\u00eb l\u00ebkur\u00ebn mbi zem\u00ebr.<\/p>\n

Sonte d\u00ebshiroj nj\u00eb p\u00ebrsh\u00ebndetje nga e ardhmja. E d\u00ebshiroj t\u00eb vij\u00eb bashk\u00eb me ledhatimin e \u00ebmb\u00ebl t\u00eb er\u00ebs. Dua nj\u00eb shenj\u00eb prej saj, nj\u00eb sinjal, nj\u00eb drit\u00ebz xix\u00ebllonje n\u00eb pyllin e mb\u00ebshtjell\u00eb nga nata. Nuk ka si t\u2019jet\u00eb ve\u00e7se e bukur.<\/p>\n

Por n\u00eb t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00eb po ndjej frik\u00eb. Nj\u00eb frik\u00eb t\u00eb shp\u00ebrndar\u00eb n\u00ebp\u00ebr dhom\u00eb si 1 mij\u00eb sy.<\/p>\n

Do nisem p\u00ebr Kosov\u00eb sapo t\u00eb zbardh\u00eb m\u00ebngjesi. Kam planifikuar t\u00eb ngjitem n\u00eb maj\u00ebn e Lubotenit. P\u00ebrpiqem t\u00eb p\u00ebrq\u00ebndrohem te muzika n\u00eb dhom\u00eb por nuk ia dal. E ndjej m\u00eb fort fytin e thar\u00eb, nxeht\u00ebsin\u00eb rreth tij q\u00eb m\u00eb merr frym\u00ebn si shall i shtr\u00ebnguar.<\/p>\n

Kam qen\u00eb n\u00eb Kosov\u00eb shum\u00eb her\u00eb m\u00eb par\u00eb. Jam kthyer e rikthyer. P\u00ebrse ndihem k\u00ebshtu? P\u00ebrse k\u00ebt\u00eb her\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb kaq e rend\u00ebsishme? Ndoshta, pse \u00ebsht\u00eb hera e par\u00eb q\u00eb shkoj si Jet\u00eb?<\/p>\n

E ftohta m\u00eb zbret te k\u00ebmb\u00ebt. Hedh nj\u00eb batanije mbi to, por ndjesia e frik\u00ebs \u00ebsht\u00eb ende aty.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

E njoh veten mir\u00eb. E kam gatitur trupin tim q\u00eb t\u00eb ngjitet n\u00eb nj\u00eb maj\u00eb 2490 metra t\u00eb lart\u00eb. Edhe me fyt t\u00eb djegur n\u00ebse duhet. Por frik\u00ebn nuk e kam nga ngjitja. E kam nga toka q\u00eb do shkel gjat\u00eb ngjitjes. Nj\u00eb tok\u00eb e zhytur n\u00eb gjak, thon\u00eb. Ky imazh m\u00eb mbush me tmerr, gjymtyr\u00ebt m\u00eb b\u00ebhen akull. Akull dhe zjarr sepse nd\u00ebrkoh\u00eb nxeht\u00ebsia n\u00eb fyt m\u00eb shtohet. Ato fjal\u00eb nuk ishin p\u00ebr f\u00ebmij\u00eb, mam\u2026<\/p>\n

Frika nuk do m\u00eb ndaloj\u00eb t\u00eb shkoj\u00eb aty ku kam nd\u00ebrmend t\u00eb shkoj\u00eb. Ajo tok\u00eb e eg\u00ebr m\u00eb b\u00ebn m\u00eb t\u00eb fort\u00eb kur e prek, kur m\u00eb prek, kur prekemi.<\/p>\n

E p\u00ebrfytyroj, e ndjej si nj\u00eb l\u00ebkur\u00eb mbi l\u00ebkur\u00eb, e shoh t\u00eb pasqyruar ngjyr\u00ebn e saj t\u00eb art\u00eb n\u00eb xhamin e dritares s\u00eb dhom\u00ebs, nga ku m\u00eb shohin dy sy t\u00eb lagur. T\u00eb nj\u00ebjt\u00ebt sy t\u00eb cil\u00ebt \u00e7do dit\u00eb t\u00eb k\u00ebsaj jave kan\u00eb dhemb nga lot\u00ebt e paqar\u00eb.<\/p>\n

Papritur d\u00ebgjoj nj\u00eb z\u00eb t\u00eb njohur brenda meje. \u201cKjo tok\u00eb s\u2018e duron tjeterkon veq kam\u00ebn e shqiptarit\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

K\u00ebmb\u00ebn e shqiptarit. K\u00ebmb\u00ebn e shqiptares. Un\u00eb nuk po shkoj. Un\u00eb po kthehem. A nuk do m\u00eb presin duart e hapura t\u00eb n\u00ebn\u00ebs?<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u00cbsht\u00eb hera e par\u00eb q\u00eb po i kthehem atij dheu si Jet\u00eb. Si Jeta t\u00eb cil\u00ebn e kam b\u00ebr\u00eb un\u00eb vet\u00eb. Dhe po shkoj p\u00ebr t\u00eb marr\u00eb. Di\u00e7ka po m\u00eb pret.<\/p>\n

Fyti \u00ebsht\u00eb ende i mb\u00ebshtjell\u00eb nga po ai shall nxeht\u00ebsie. Z\u00ebri, ende i thar\u00eb. Osumi \u00ebsht\u00eb shterrur, etja \u00ebsht\u00eb shuar. Un\u00eb at\u00eb dheun e that\u00eb e dua. At\u00eb tok\u00ebn e eger e dua. Dua ta shoh, ta ndjej, t\u00eb mb\u00ebshtes mbi t\u00eb p\u00ebll\u00ebmb\u00ebn e dor\u00ebs, shput\u00ebn e k\u00ebmb\u00ebs, t\u00eb mbyll syt\u00eb, ta ndjej. Ta ndjej q\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb dheu im, toka ime. Imja\u2026<\/p>\n

Njeriu ka faza t\u00eb tilla. Dikur m\u00ebrzia m\u00eb la.<\/p>\n

Ka nj\u00eb arsye pse ngjitem maleve. Dua q\u00eb \u00e7do her\u00eb t\u00eb kap nj\u00eb lart\u00ebsi t\u00eb re. Kjo m\u00eb b\u00ebn t\u00eb besoj q\u00eb nuk ekziston penges\u00eb q\u00eb nuk kalohet. Kur ke madh\u00ebshtin\u00eb e malit p\u00ebrball\u00eb dhe vetem trupin t\u00ebnd p\u00ebr t\u00eb fituar sfid\u00ebn, nuk arratisesh dot n\u00eb \u00ebndrra.<\/p>\n

Dhe at\u00eb dit\u00eb Luboteni, i veshur me nje pelerin\u00eb mjegulle, kishte vendosur t\u00eb m\u00eb vinte n\u00eb ndihm\u00eb n\u00eb gjetjen e pergjigjeve q\u00eb k\u00ebrkoja\u2026<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

Nuk shihnim m\u00eb larg se 30 metra pergjate gjith\u00eb ngjitjes. Un\u00eb me tok\u00ebn p\u00ebrpara dhe nd\u00ebrmjet tok\u00ebs dhe k\u00ebmb\u00ebve t\u00eb mia, nj\u00eb shtres\u00eb hezitimi. N\u00eb \u00e7do hap. O, kam\u00ebn e shqiptares e ke, o Jete, i thoja vetes. Toka t\u2019duron, ka than Hamza. Ec, shkel!<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Mundohesha t\u2019u ikja mendimeve t\u00eb cilat ktheheshin vazhdimisht te toka.<\/p>\n

Dikur mjegulla u b\u00eb aq e dendur sa mund t\u00eb shihnim vetem pak metra larg. E fiksoja dheun me sy dhe shihja edhe gjakun n\u00eb t\u00eb. At\u00eb gjak, at\u00eb gjak p\u00ebr t\u00eb cilin flisnin t\u00eb gjith\u00eb, flasin t\u00eb gjith\u00eb. Ai gjak i derdhur. Ai gjak i kuq. Sa me shum\u00eb e v\u00ebshtroja dheun e maj\u00ebs m\u00eb t\u00eb lart\u00eb t\u00eb Kosov\u00ebs duke menduar gjakun, aq me shum\u00eb fjal\u00ebs gjak n\u00eb leksikun tim mental i mvishej nj\u00eb kuptim tjet\u00ebr: l\u00ebngu i jet\u00ebs.<\/p>\n

Gjaku\u2026 Arrija ta shihja qart\u00eb duke rrjedh\u00eb me shpejt\u00ebsi n\u00eb trupin tim, ngarkuar me anti-trupa dhe oksigjen. Rridhte e rridhte pa ndales\u00eb duke m\u00eb ngrohur nd\u00ebrkoh\u00eb q\u00eb un\u00eb ecja me ballin e nxeht\u00eb dhe hapat e r\u00ebnd\u00eb mes ajrit t\u00eb ftoht\u00eb t\u00eb malit. Prap\u00eb tok\u00ebs nuk ia largoja syt\u00eb. E fiksoja duke u munduar t\u2018i nxjerr nj\u00eb kuptim t\u00eb ri, t\u00eb cilin e hetoja fshehur n\u00ebn dhe.<\/p>\n

E shihja gjakun q\u00eb derdhej. E shihja qart\u00eb duke u hapur n\u00ebn k\u00ebmb\u00ebt e mia. E shihja tek e skuqte dheun, por e shihja edhe duke e pastruar dheun, duke e lar\u00eb, duke i larguar t\u00eb gjitha kujtimet e frikshme te atyre qe ishin p\u00ebrpara meje dhe duke e rib\u00ebr\u00eb tok\u00ebn. Tok\u00eb e re. Tok\u00eb e re p\u00ebr mua, tok\u00eb e re p\u00ebr ne. P\u00ebr ne, t\u00eb paprekurit nga lufta. Ne f\u00ebmijet q\u00eb e kemi par\u00eb luft\u00ebn p\u00ebr liri vet\u00ebm n\u00eb ekrane n\u00eb nj\u00eb gjuh\u00eb t\u00eb huaj, t\u00eb cilen nuk e kuptonim. Apo n\u00eb gjuh\u00ebn e prind\u00ebrve, t\u00eb cil\u00ebn as at\u00eb nuk e kuptonim. At\u00ebher\u00eb shqipja p\u00ebr ne ishte gjuha e z\u00ebrave t\u00eb shqet\u00ebsuar dhe ajo e lajmeve t\u00eb kobshme. Ato lajme nuk ishin p\u00ebr f\u00ebmije, bab\u2026<\/p>\n

Duke ndjekur rrjedh\u00ebn e kuqe t\u00eb gjakut n\u00ebn dh\u00e8, mb\u00ebrrita papritur n\u00eb maj\u00eb. Mjegulla nuk ishte zhdukur dhe ajri ishte i ftohte. Frynte nj\u00eb er\u00eb e fort\u00eb, shalli i bardh\u00eb me te cilin kisha mbeshtjellur kok\u00ebn, fytin dhe goj\u00ebn, ishte qullur nga djersa.<\/p>\n

Flaka n\u00eb fyt harrohet kur m\u00eb zgjatet nj\u00eb dor\u00eb dhe m\u00eb buzeqesh nj\u00eb fytyr\u00eb e dashur. K\u00ebt\u00eb vler\u00eb ka jeta. N\u00eb maj\u00eb urohet ngjitja. Ne zbresim nga ana tjet\u00ebr dhe ulemi n\u00eb shpatin e mbrojtur nga era e fort\u00eb. Papritur dheu-m\u00ebm\u00eb b\u00ebhet i ngroht\u00eb, m\u00eb pret me duart hapur.<\/p>\n

P\u00ebr nj\u00eb moment z\u00ebrat p\u00ebrreth ikin me er\u00ebn dhe prap\u00eb dheu m\u00eb terheq. Si n\u00eb \u00ebnd\u00ebrr e zgjas dor\u00ebn dhe pres momentin kur mollzat e gisht\u00ebrinjve prekin tok\u00ebn. Ndjej nj\u00eb mall t\u00eb madh, aq t\u00eb madh e t\u00eb fort\u00eb sa nuk mund t\u2019jet\u00eb vet\u00ebm i imi. Kur gisht\u00ebrinjt\u00eb e prekin m\u00eb n\u00eb fund dheun, mjegulla e r\u00ebnd\u00eb m\u00eb largohet nga shikimi, z\u00ebrat p\u00ebrreth kthehen t\u00eb plot\u00eb e t\u00eb qart\u00eb, koha kthehet, dhe gishtat e mi hyjn\u00eb thell\u00eb n\u00eb tok\u00eb.<\/p>\n

E mbush grushtin me dh\u00e8, me dh\u00e8 t\u00eb but\u00eb, t\u00eb im\u00ebt, t\u00eb ngroht\u00eb. Dh\u00e8 p\u00ebr lule, mendoj. Dh\u00e8 i paprekur, i paster si\u00e7 \u00ebsht\u00eb gjithmon\u00eb dheu i maleve. Duke e l\u00ebvizur dheun e im\u00ebt brenda dor\u00ebs s\u00eb mbledhur grusht, shikoj p\u00ebrreth. Dalloj fytyrat q\u00eb flasin ose heshtin. Dielli fshihet aty prapa reve, afer, shum\u00eb af\u00ebr. T\u00eb gjith\u00eb do t\u00eb kthehemi me fytyra t\u00eb puthura nga rrezet, si\u00e7 ndodh me t\u00eb gjith\u00eb ata q\u00eb kthehen nga malet e larta.<\/p>\n

E ndjej gjakun n\u00eb dheun q\u00eb mbaj ende n\u00eb dor\u00eb, si nj\u00eb kujtim, si nj\u00eb p\u00ebrsh\u00ebndetje, si nj\u00eb urim t\u00eb buzeqeshur. E ndjej si nj\u00eb shpirt n\u00eb paqe.<\/p>\n

I shikoj fytyrat e dy djemve te grupit ton\u00eb, jan\u00eb deri n\u00eb dhjet\u00eb vite m\u00eb t\u00eb rinj se un\u00eb, heshtin me nj\u00eb buz\u00ebqeshje t\u00eb fjetur n\u00eb buz\u00eb, nuk di ku i kan\u00eb syt\u00eb, ku mendimet. M\u00eb duken t\u00eb bukur. Si lule. Lule me rr\u00ebnj\u00eb n\u00eb nj\u00eb dhe t\u00eb past\u00ebr. I dua dhe jam e lumtur q\u00eb jan\u00eb aty me mua.<\/p>\n

Lule jam edhe un\u00eb, lule me ngjyr\u00eb jete, me rr\u00ebnj\u00eb n\u00eb dheun e lar\u00eb me jet\u00eb, n\u00eb tok\u00ebn e bekuar me jet\u00eb; me jet\u00eb t\u00eb bukur, t\u00eb lumtur. I shoh fytyrat e qeta t\u00eb dy djemve, mandej shoh pak m\u00eb tej, babain e tyre. Buz\u00ebqesh edhe ai.<\/p>\n

Jo gjithmon\u00eb duhen fjal\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb th\u00ebn\u00eb faleminderit. As nj\u00eb tregim nuk mjafton. Por mjaft t\u00eb kuptosh q\u00eb jeta \u00ebsht\u00eb e \u00e7muar dhe e dashur dhe ta jetosh si t\u00eb till\u00eb.<\/p>\n

Ngrihem n\u00eb k\u00ebmb\u00eb dhe i kthej kurrizin res\u00eb ku \u00ebsht\u00eb fshehur dielli. Ndjej n\u00eb shpin\u00eb ngroht\u00ebsin\u00eb e nj\u00eb bote t\u00eb cil\u00ebn nuk e shoh, q\u00eb m\u00eb p\u00ebrsh\u00ebndet e buzeqeshur. Nj\u00eb buz\u00ebqeshje q\u00eb kurr\u00eb nuk do t\u00eb fshihet m\u00eb nga ky n\u00ebnqiell.<\/p>\n

E b\u00ebra. E mora nusen e maleve q\u00eb ishte duke m\u00eb pritur, e veshur me paqen e bukur q\u00eb mund ta gjesh vet\u00ebm n\u00eb z\u00ebrin e madh t\u00eb heshtjes. T\u00eb asaj heshtjes s\u00eb ve\u00e7ant\u00eb q\u00eb gjendet vet\u00ebm n\u00eb maj\u00ebn e nj\u00eb mali t\u00eb lart\u00eb dhe n\u00eb thell\u00ebsin\u00eb e nj\u00eb zemre t\u00eb madhe.<\/p>\n

Fehmi Lladrovci, Xhev\u00eb Lladrovcit n\u00eb nj\u00eb let\u00ebr:<\/p>\n

\u201cLul\u00ebkuqeve q\u00eb do t\u00eb vijn\u00eb n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb jet\u00eb t\u2019ua b\u00ebjm\u00eb jet\u00ebn sa m\u00eb t\u00eb bukur dhe sa m\u00eb t\u00eb lumtur. Edhe ne do t\u00eb b\u00ebjm\u00eb t\u00eb gjitha p\u00ebrpjekjet q\u00eb ardhm\u00ebris\u00eb s\u00eb tyre t\u2019ua heqim prangat. Jeta \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb gj\u00eb e \u00e7muar dhe e dashur p\u00ebr njeriun, p\u00ebr mua, nuk ka penges\u00eb q\u00eb njeriu nuk mund ta kaloj\u00eb, aq m\u00eb shum\u00eb kur ia di vler\u00ebn jet\u00ebs. T\u00eb gjitha prangat jan\u00eb m\u00eb t\u00eb vogla se ideali i njeriut. Ne do t\u00eb digjemi p\u00ebr t\u2019ua b\u00ebr\u00eb terrin drit\u00eb luleve q\u00eb do t\u00eb vijn\u00eb \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

*Botuar nga gazeta Dita. Qershor 2018. Jeta Zhitia (n\u00eb foto) \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb shkrimtare e re shqiptaro-gjermane, n\u00eb udh\u00ebtim n\u00ebp\u00ebr Shqip\u00ebri<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Poeti Adem GASHI: JETA ZHITIA* shum\u00eb t\u00eb rr\u00ebpir\u00ebta k\u00ebto bjeshk\u00ebt tona, bre prer\u00eb me brisk shiu e rrufeje e plag\u00ebfashuar me p\u00eblhur\u00eb t\u00eb bardh\u00eb bore kurrizdalat e qenies son\u00eb e vjen Jeta, ajo e reja t\u2019i kap\u00eb majat me dor\u00eb e t\u00eb na i zbus\u00eb dhembjet e vragave e dini, Jeta \u00ebsht\u00eb ajo lulja lulebor\u00eb […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":30888,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-30887","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-artikuj"],"yoast_head":"\nN\u00ebnave, Baballar\u00ebve, Lul\u00ebkuqeve\u2026 - FJALA e LIR\u00cb<\/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:\/\/jehonashqiptare.al\/fjala\/nenave-baballareve-lulekuqeve\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"N\u00ebnave, Baballar\u00ebve, Lul\u00ebkuqeve\u2026 - 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