Naguib Mahfouz - Midaq Alley (Chapter 10) lyrics

Chapter 10 Abbas el-Helw gazed keenly and critically at his image in th.e mirror, a look of satisfaction gradually dawning in his prominent eyes, for he had devoted time to arranging his hair and had brushed his suit carefully. Now he exited the door of the barbershop and stood waiting. It was his beloved late afternoon hour, the sky a clear, deep blue, the air softened by a sudden warmth bestowed by nature after a fine rain that had lasted for an entire day. The surface of the alley, which took a bath not more than twice or thrice in a year, had been washed clean and a few of the potholes in Boxmakers Street still brimmed with muddy water. Uncle Kamel had gone inside his small shop and was drowsing on his chair. El-Helw's eyes lit up with a gentle smile and in no time ecstasy was coursing through his whole being. He started humming in a low voice: Methinks, my heart, forevermore you'll regain the love if him whom you desire and lay your head upon his breast. Your wounds with time will surely heal. You cannot know from whence or when will come your weal. A proverb we've heard, pa**ed down by those who've loved and lived: Patience, 0 afflicted, is the key to rest. Uncle Kamel opened his eyes and yawned, then looked at the young man standing at the door to his shop. Laughing, the latter crossed the way to join him and gave his soft breast a pinch, saying happily, "I'm in love and the whole world smiles upon me." "Congratulations, old fellow," said Uncle Kamel in his fluting, angelic voice as he stood up, "but won't you hand the shroud over to me before you sell it to cover the dowry?" Abbas el-Helw gave a loud laugh and left the alley at a leisurely pace. He was wearing his gray suit, which was also his only one. He'd had it turned a year ago, and later the invisible mender had darned some of its edges, but he'd taken care to have it well cleaned and pressed, so he appeared (somewhat) elegant. Afire with enthusiasm, ecstasy, and courage, he was agitated by that extreme sense of constric­ tion that usually precedes the declaration of the heart's innermost secrets. During this period, he lived through love and for love, and its angelic wings kept him suspended in the heavens of bliss. His love was delicate emotion, honest desire, avid lust. He desired the breasts just as he did the eyes, and beyond the breasts he sought the warmth of the body, just as in the eyes he sought a bewitching, mysterious intoxication. The day that he'd accosted the girl on Darrasa Road, he'd felt the joy of victory, imagining her resistance as no more than that with which all women face the call of pa**ion. Ecstasy had consumed him for a few days, but then his enthusiasm had waned and his intoxication dimmed, not because of anything new that had happened but because doubts had awoken in his breast and started to work on him. He had begun to wonder why he'd thought her resistance mere coquetry; why shouldn't it be_ genuine aversion? Was it because she'd repulsed him without cruelty or harshness? But what if not politeness should a person expect from his lifelong neighbor? He must, he felt, have gone overboard in his joy, and his ecstasy must have been misplaced. All the same, he didn't backtrack. Whenever he felt the sting of doubt, he forced himself on, in defense of his happiness. At midmorning, he'd stand in front of his shop and he'd see her when she opened the windows to air the apart­ ment, and in the evening, he'd sit on his chair at the door of the cafe beneath her window, smoking a goza and stealing one glance after another at the closed shutters, behind whose slats the beloved shadow lurked. It hadn't been enough, though, and he had accosted her a second time on Darrasa Road, and she had rebuffed him as before. Then he had returned to the attack once more, and once more she had eluded him, but he had returned home, his hope renewed by the sustenance that it drew from his joy and pleasure. He told himself that happiness lay waiting, and needed only more courage and patience. ******** He looked at her in confusion and dared not defend the alley that he loved above all else in the world. Disturbed, he asked himself, "Can it be that she despises the alley, like her brother Hussein? Truly, they were s**led at the same breast!" Then, seeking to dispel the unpleas­ ant aftereffect, he remarked, "Choose any place you like. There's Darrasa, Gamaliya, Beit el-Qadi. Choose and you can have your house wherever you like." Embarra**ed, she awoke to the significance of his words, realiz­ ing she had said too much and that her tongue had betrayed her. She bit her lip and said with distaste, "My house? What house are you talking about? What have I got to do with it?" Reproachfully, he exclaimed, "How can you say that? Haven't I suffered enough for you? Don't you know what house I'm talking about? God forgive you, Hamida! I'm talking about the house that we're going to choose together, or rather the house that you're going to choose on your own, because it'll be your house and no one else's. I'm leaving home for the sake of that house, as you now know. You asked God to bless my enterprise, so there's no escape from the wonderful, happy truth. We've agreed, Hamida, and there's an end to it." Had they really agreed? It seemed they had. If they hadn't, she wouldn't have allowed herself to walk with him and argue with him and to start dreaming of the future. What harm could come to her from that? Was he not, in any case, her young man? Despite these thoughts, however, she was a**ailed by feelings of anxiety and hesita­ tion. Had she really turned into a different girl, one who had scarcely any control over her own affairs? At that moment, she became aware that his hand was touching hers and holding it, and that heat and warmth were spreading through her fingertips. Should she snatch it from him and tell him, "No. All that's got nothing to do with me"? She did nothing and uttered not a word, and they continued walking together, her palm in his hot hand. She became aware that he was squeezing her finger tenderly and saying, "We'll go on seeing one another, won't we?" She refused to say a word, so he made do with her silent language and said again, "We shall meet often and go over everything we have to do. Then I'll go to see your mother. We have to have an under­ standing before I leave." She snatched her hand from his and cried in alarm, "It's late. We've gone a long way.- Let's go back." They turned together, his happy laugh echoing something of the joy with which his heart was overflowing and, walking fast, after a few minutes they reached Ghouriya Street, where they parted, she turning onto that street while he headed toward ei-Azhar so that he could return to the alley by way of the Mosque of ei-Hussein.