Naguib Mahfouz - Midaq Alley (Chapter 22) lyrics

Chapter 22 Uncle Kamel awoke from his endless catnap to the sound of a bell ringing. He opened his eyes, listened a while, then craned his neck till his head was sticking out of the shop. Seeing a familiar carriage drawn up before the alley, he rose and said in happy surmise, "Lord, can Master Salim Elwan really have come back?" The coachman had left his seat and hurried to the door of the carriage to help his master descend and Master Salim was supporting himself on his arm as he slowly left his seat, his tarbush, ta**el dangling, the first part of him to emerge, followed by his bowed body, after which he finally a**umed an erect posture on the ground, arranging his clothes. The illness had taken him out of circulation in the middle of winter and the cure had come with the beginning of spring, which had doused the biting winter cold with a kindly wave of warmth to which the world danced in ecstasy. What kind of a cure, though? Master Salim returned a changed man. The belly that had pushed out his robe and caftan had vanished and the ruddy, full face had hollowed out, making the cheekbones prominent and the cheeks hollow, while pallor had turned his skin gray. The light had faded in his eyes, in which a feeble, wandering look now moved restlessly beneath a frown­ ing brow. Because of his weak eyesight, Uncle Kamel did not at first observe the changes that had overtaken Master Salim. Only when he came closer and noticed how pale he was was he overcome by alarm. Bending over his hand as though to hide this, he cried in his fluting voice, "Praise God for your safe return, Master! This is a joyful day. I swear by God and el-Hussein, without you the alley isn't worth an onion skin." Pulling his hand away; Master Salim told him, "God bless you, Uncle Kamel" and walked slowly on, leaning on his stick, the coach­ man walking in his footsteps and Uncle Kamel following, swaying like an elephant. The ringing of the carriage bell must have alerted those inside to his arrival, for the entranceway into the warehouse qnickly filled with workmen, while Boss Kersha and Doctor Bushi approached from the cafe. Everyone gathered around him cheering and uttering prayers, but the coachman said in a loud voice, "Make way for Master Salim, if you please. Let him sit down first and then you can say hello." The gathering made way and he continued on his way glowering, his heart boiling with exasperation and anger; he would rather not have set eyes on any of their faces. No sooner had he settled himself behind his desk than the workers at the warehouse came forward, each jostling to be first, and he had no choice but to surrender them his hand to kiss one after the other, resenting the touch of their lips and saying to himself, "Hypocritical dogs! You, I swear, are the cause of this calamity." The throng of workers parted to make way for Boss Kersha, who shook his hand and said, "Welcome to the master of the whole quarter! A thousand thanks to God for your safe return!" Master Salim thanked him. Doctor Bushi, though, kissed his hand and said iu the tones of one making a speech, "Today we must be happy. Today our hearts are reas­ sured. Today our prayers are answered." Master Salim thanked him too, disguising his disgust, because he hated his little round face. When the place had cleared, Master Salim gave a weak sigh and said in an almost inaudible voice, "Dogs! They're all dogs! They bit me with their envious eyes," and in his imagination set about chasing after their ghosts so as to clear his breast of the resentment, anger, and agitation they had aroused in it. He wasn't left alone for long, though, because Kamel Effendi Ibrahim, his agent, came and stood before him to receive his orders. Instantly, the man's arrival had made him forget everything except accounts and the checking of accounts, and he told him tersely, "The books!" As the man made to move, the other suddenly stopped him, as though remembering something important, and said to him in com­ manding tones, "Put everyone on notice that from now on I don't want to smell tobacco" (the doctors had forbidden him to smoke) "and inform Ibrahim that if I order water, he's to make me a gla** filled half with ordinary water and half with warm water. Smoking in the warehouse is strictly forbidden. Now get me the books right away." The agent went off to pa** on the new orders, inwardly devastated since he was addicted to smoking, and returned a little later bearing the books. The changes wrought on Master Salim by the illness were not lost on him and he was seized by a fit of anxiety. for he was sure that a difficnlt audit lay ahead. Kamel Effendi sat down opposite Master Salim and opened the first ledger flat iu front of him. The audit began. Master Salim was thoroughly acquainted with and sk**ed at his work, and no detail, however small, escaped him. He applied himself to checking the ledgers one by one with untiring zeal, show­ ing his exhausted spirit no mercy. During the course of the work, he phoned a number of his customers to verifY when they had come in and compared their statements with what was written in the ledgers, while Kamel Effendi, to whom it never occurred to object, sat there in gloomy patience. The audit wasn't the only thing to occupy his thoughts: silendy, he was also bewailing the ban on smoking that had ta:ken him by surprise that morning. The order would not simply pre­ vent him from smoking in the warehouse, it would also deprive him of the luxury Cotarelli cigarettes that Master Salim had been kind enough to offer him. Directing strange looks at the man bent over the ledgers, he said to himself with irritation and anger, "Dear God, the man's changed so much, he's become like a stranger," and marveled at the man's moustache, which had retained its enormous size and luxuriance in a face whose other characteristics had been rubbed away and erased by the dread disease, so that it now looked like a tower­ ing palm tree in a featureless desert. Resentment and indignation made him lose his normal composure and he said to himself, "Who knows? Maybe he deserves what happened to. him. God is unjust to none." It took Master Salim about three hours to finish his inspection of the books, after which he returned them to the warehouse, giving Kamel Effendi the strange look of an auditor who has failed to find what he was looking for but remains, nonetheless, suspicious. "I'll go over them again, many times," he said to himself, "till I find what these ledgers are hiding. They're all dogs, though it's ouly the dirtiness they've got from them; they've left them the loyalty." To his agent, he said, "Kamel Effendi, don't forget what I told you: the smell of tobac­ co and the warm water." ****** During those few moments at which he recovered some measure of consciousness, he would ask with a cold shudder, "Am I dying?" Could he really die with all his family around him? Every man, how. ever, who leaves this world does so after being wrested from the hands of those who love him, so of what use to the dead was the embrace of the living? At that moment, he had wanted to call out to God and make his profession of faith but was too weak, and his call and his profession rose •as an internal stirring that brought moisture to his dry saliva. His faith, deeply grounded as it was, could not mask the terrors of that hour, and his body surrendered in spite of itself. His soul, however, clung to the hem of life in terror and panic until his eyes were flowing with copioutears and the look in them had become an eloquent plea for help. In fact, his allotted span had not yet reached its end and he survived the dangerous phase to arrive at the shores of convalescence, returning little by little to life's embrace, entertaining hopes of being restored to his health, vigor, and former life. The doctor's warnings and exhortations, though, sapped his will and put paid to that hope, leaving him little to live for. Yes, yes-he'd escaped d**h, but he'd been turned into a new person, frail of body and sick of soul. As the days pa**ed, that sickness grew out of control, turning into irritability, willfulness, hatred, and bad temper. The appearance of this stumbling block in his path amazed him, and he asked himself what sin God, All-glorious, could have held against him. He possessed one of those easy-going consciences that make excuses for their owners and present their behavior to them in the best possible light while blinding them to their faults. Loving life pas­ sionately, he had taken pleasure in his wealth and used it to bring pleasure to his family, just as he had, or so he believed, adhered to God's strictures. This had allowed him to live life with a deep sense of tranquillity until shaken out of it by this violent upheaval that had carried off his health and almost done the same to his mind. What had he done wrong? He had done nothing wrong; it was other people­ they were against him and it was they, with their envy; who had brought about in him this incurable damage. Thus did he turn all that was sweet in his life into bitterness, while an unbudging frown drew itself on his brow. In truth, though, the damage the man had sustained to his health was almost nothing compared to that inflicted on his nerves. Sitting at his desk in the warehouse, he asked himself if it was real­ ly true that all that was left for him in life was to hunker down in this place and go over his books. The face of life appeared to him in a sud­ den vision looking yet grimmer than his own and he froze like a statue, unaware of the pa**ing of time and sunk in his thoughts. Then he heard a voice at the entrance to the warehouse. He turned to look, saw Umm Hamida's pockmarked face approaching, and a strange look came into his eyes. Distracted by old memories, he greeted her and listened with a quarter of his attention to the woman's prayers for his good health and her welcome. Was it not strange that he'd forgotten Hamida as though she'd never existed? During his convalescence, memories of her had come to him several times, only to pa** without a trace. The regret he felt over losing her was nothing like the desire he'd felt to acquire her, and subsequently things had conspired to make him forget her, as though she'd never existed or as though she'd been just a drop of the blood of good health that had been running in his veins and, when that had gone, had dissolved into thin air. The strange look limned by his memories faded from his eyes and his vision recovered its fixedness. He thanked the woman for coming to offer him her good wishes and invited her to sit. His irri­ tation at her presence was so strong that it was almost transformed into hatred, and he asked himself what the real reason for her visit might be. Was it an honest desire to offer him her good wishes with­ out ulterior motive, or did she want to rea**ure herself •that his pre­ vious intentions still held? The woman, however, didn't turn out as bad as he'd feared, for she'd given up on him long ago. All the same, he said, as though to apologize, "We had our plans ... and God had His." The woman grasped what he meant and said hurriedly, "It wasn't your fault, Master, and we ask God for nothing but your good health and strength." She bade him goodbye and left the warehouse, leaving him in a worse state of mind and more depressed. A sack of henna happened to slip out of a worker's hands and he flew into a rage, chiding the man harshly and saying, "Soon the warehouse will close its doors, so you'd better find yourself a new way of earning your living," and stood there for a moment shaking, he was so angry and upset. The outburst apparently brought to his mind a recent suggestion by his sons that he dissolve his businesses and take life more easily and his anger and agitation increased as he told himself that it wasn't his ease they sought but his money. Hadn't they made the same suggestion to him earlier on, when he was still in full possession of his powers? It was the money they wanted, not his health or his repose. In his anger, he forgot that it was he him­ self who had found it oppressive that his hopes should be limited to working in the warehouse and that his lot in .life be limited to tiring himself out making money that he was too busy to enjoy spending. In the end, though, it was his hell-bent determination to get his own way and his mistrust of everyone, from some of whose consequences even his own children and his wife were not exempt, that had brought him to this pa**. Before he could recover from this fever of anger and fury, he heard a loud voice, as deep as it was tender, saying, "Praise God for your recovery! Peace be upon you, my brother!" Turning toward the source of the sound, he saw the tall, broad body and beaming, effulgent face of Master Radwan el-Husseini approaching. For the first time, his mood improved and he was about to stand up when Master Radwan pre-empted him by placing his hand on his shoulder and saying, "You will sit, I swear by el-Hussein!" They shook hands warmly. Master Radwan had visited the man in his villa several times during his illness, and when he hadn't been able to go to see him himself, had sent him his greetings and prayers. He sat down on a nearby seat and they began exchanging courteous and affectionate words. Greatly moved, Master Salim said, "It's a wonder I survived!" In a deep, calm voice, Master Radwan reSponded, "Praise be to God, Lord of the Worlds! It's a wonder you survived and it's a wonder you're alive. It's a wonder, if you think about it, that any of us is alive. That a person should go on living for one second requires a huge miracle of divine power, so each person's life is a series of divine mira­ cles. What then are we to say of the lives of everyone taken together, and the lives of all creatures taken together? Let us then thank God morning and evening, by night and by day-and yet how puny must our thanks be next to these divine blessings!" Master Salim listened to him without moving, then murmured irritatedly, "Illness is ugly and evil." Master Radwan smiled and replied, "So it may be in its essence. From another perspective, though, it is a divine test, and thus something good." The other man was uncomfortable with this philosophy and grew suddenly annoyed with the one expounding it, the positive effect of whose arrival was lost. However, unusually for him these days, he did not surrender to his anger and said peevishly, "What did I do to deserve this punishment? Can't you see my health is gone for good?" Toying with his beautiful beard, Master Radwan replied, somewhat reproachfully, "What is our superficial knowledge compared to that resplendent wisdom? Truly, you are a good man, pious, generous, obser­ vant of your religious duties; yet God tried his servant Job, who was a prophet. So grieve not and do not mourn but rejoice in your faith." The man's agitation increased, however, and he said angrily, "You speak calmly and serenely and offer your advice with godliness and piety yet you haven't tasted even a part of what I have, or lost what I have." Master Radwan sat with head bowed until the man had finished his speech. Then he raised it, a sweet smile on his lips, and fixed him with a penetrating look from his limpid eyes, and the man's anger and excitement quickly subsided and faded away, as though he had just remembered that he was addressing God's most harshly tried servant. He blinked, his pallid face flushed a little, and he said in a weak voice, "Pardon me, my brother. I'm exhausted." "Don't worry about it, may God strengthen and preserve you,'' said Master Radwan, the smile never leaving his lips. "Repeat God's name often, for 'in the mention if His name the heart finds peace.' Never let grief get the better of your faith, for true happiness abandons us to the degree that we abandon our faith." The man clutched his beard and said angrily, "They poisoned me with their envy! They begrudged me my money and standing! They envied me, Master Radwan!" "Envy is worse than illness, and it is truly saddening that those who begrudge their brothers their portion of this world's ephemeral goods are many. Grieve not and do not mourn, but surrender yourself to God, your Lord, the Merciful, the Forgiving." They spoke at length, then Master Radwan bade him farewell and departed, and the man sat quietly for a while. Gradually, though, his grim and scowling demeanor returned. Tired of sitting for so long, he rose and walked slowly to the door of the warehouse and stood in the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back. The sun was approaching the center of the sky and it was warm and bright. At this late hour of the morning, the alley appeared deserted but for Sheikh Darwish, who was sitting in front of the cafe sunning himself Master Salim stood there for a while and then turned, by force of habit, toward the window, which he saw to be open and empty. Then, as though irked by standing, he returned to his seat, frowning grimly.