JokhaAlharthiistheauthoroftenworks,includingthreecollectionsofshortfiction,twochildren’sbooks,andthreenovelsinArabic.FluentinEnglish,shecompletedaPhDinClassicalArabicPoetryinEdinburgh,andteachesatSultanQaboosUniversityinMuscat.CelestialBodieswasshortlistedfortheSahikhZayedAwardforYoungWritersandher2016novelNarinjahwontheSultanQaboosAwardforculture,artandliterature.HershortstorieshavebeenpublishedinEnglish,German,Italian,KoreanandSerbian.

MarilynBoothholdstheKhalidbinAbdallahAlSaudChairfortheStudyoftheContemporaryArabWorld,OrientalInstituteandMagdalenCollege,OxfordUniversity.Inadditiontoheracademicpublications,shehastranslatedmanyworksoffictionfromtheArabic,mostrecentlyThePenguin’sSongandNoRoadtoParadise,bothbyLebanesenovelistHassanDaoud.

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Contents

Translator'sIntroductionMayyaAbdallahLondonAbdallahAsmaQamar,theMoonAbdallahMotherhoodAbdallahZarifaAbdallahMasoudaAbdallahMayyaandLondonAbdallahHusbandsAbdallahKhawlaAbdallahViperAbdallahSalimaAzzanandQamar

AbdallahZarifaAzzanandQamarAbdallahAsmaAbdallahAnkabutaAbdallahSalimaAbdallahAsmaSalimaAbdallahAzzanandQamarTheBridalprocessionAbdallahAzzanandQamarAbdallahLondonZarifaAsmaandKhalidAbdallahTheManintheDesertKhawlaAbdallahKhalidAsmaandtheMoonAbdallah'sMotherCousinMarwanSulaymanMasouda,stillhereAbdallahLondon

KhawlaAbdallah

Tomymother

Translator'sIntroduction

CelestialBodiesisOmaninovelistandacademicJokhaAlharthi’sacclaimedsecondnovel,firstpublishedasSayyidatal-qamar(literaltranslation:‘LadiesoftheMoon’).ThebooktracesanOmanifamilyoverthreegenerations,shapedbytherapidsocialchangesandconsequentshiftsinoutlookthatOman’spopulacehaveexperiencedacrossthetwentiethcenturyandinparticularsinceOman’semergenceasanoil-richnationinthe1960s.OneofawaveofhistoricalnovelsthatconstitutesamajorsubgenreoffictionintheArabworld,thisworkisnarratedagainstacarefullyevokedhistoricalcanvas.AsthecriticMunir’Utaybahremarked,‘Acompleteworldofsocialrelations,practicesandcustomaryusagesiscollapsing,sendingthenovel’scharacterstotheveryedge,theborderbetweentwoworlds,oneofthemasuffocating,rigidyetnowfragileworldandtheotheronemysterious,ambiguous,fulloftensionsandanxiety,ofuneasysurveillanceandfearofwhatwillcome...Itisaprecariousedgebetweenoneeraandanother,theborderbetweentheworldofmastersandthatofslaves,betweentheworldsofhumanbeingsandofsupernaturaljinn,betweenlivingrealityandnightmare,betweengenuineloveandimaginedlove,betweenthesociety’sideaofapersonandaperson’ssenseofself.’*AttheheartofCelestialBodiesisanupper-classOmanifamilywhose

membersareexpectedtomaintaintraditionalwayswithonlyatentativeembraceofminimallymodifiedsocialbehaviour.But,tryingtocontroltheeffectsofsocialchange,thefamilycannotrepressanunspokenhistoryofunacceptableliaisonsandofmaster-slaverelations.Theimpactofastrongpatriarchalsystemonbothwomenandsubordinatemenisunsparingbutitshapesdifferentgenerations,andindividuals,distinctlyasitleadstobothsufferingandconfrontation.WefindapatriarchwhoseloveforaBedouinwomantearsaparthismaritalrelationship.Hiswife,

adheringtothestricturesofpatriarchy,seeksherownkindofauthoritythroughdenialofhergranddaughter’schallengetoinheritedvaluesthroughanunacceptablelinkagetoamanoflowersocialstatus.Theolderwomanherselfhashadadifficultchildhoodinheruncle’shome.Threedaughtersexemplifydiversereactionstothesociety’snotionof

idealwomanhoodinatimeofrapidsocioeconomictransition.Theeldest,Mayya,prefersnottochallengeherfamilyandacquiescesinmarriagetothesonofarichmerchant.Theseconddaughter,Asma,seeksaneducation;shemarriesanartistbutonewhoisarelativeandthereforeacceptable.Theyoungest,Khawla,insistsonwaitingforhercousinwhohadtoldherrepeatedlyduringtheirchildhoodthatshewouldbehispartner.YethisemigrationtoCanadastymiesherhopes.Theyoungergeneration,followingaworldwidetrend,movefromthefamilyvillagetoMuscat,thecapital,andtheirlivesareequallyturbulent.Thenovel’sstructureisintricateandengaging.Alternatechaptersare

narratedbyanomniscientnarratorandonecharacter,Abdallah,thehusbandofMayya.Abdallah’sfatherhadbeennoordinarymerchant;hiswealthwasderivedfromaslavetradethathadcontinueddespiteitslegalsuppression.Abdallah’slifeisovershadowedbythemysteriousdeathofhismother;raisedbyhisfather’sslave,Zarifa–thematernalfigureinhislife–AbdallahseeksemotionalcontentmentwithMayya,buthisloveforherisnotreciprocated.Throughthistracingofintimatefamilyrelationships,AlharthitellsagrippingstorywhileofferinganallegoryofOman’scoming-of-age,andindeedofthedifficulttransitionsofsocietiesfacedwithnewopportunitiesandpressures.ThenovelhasbeenpraisedbycriticsacrosstheArabworldforitsfinenessofportraiture,itshistoricaldepthandsubtlety,anditsinnovativeliterarystructure.

MarilynBoothOrientalInstituteandMagdalenCollege,

UniversityofOxford

*Munir‘Utayba,‘Sayyidatal-qamar:Fitnatal-hakiwa-alamal-tadhakkur’(Sayyidatal-qamar:

theallureofstorytelling,thepainofremembering),inhisFil-sirdal-tatbiqi:Qira’at‘arabiyya

wa-‘alamiyya(Onnarrationandcriticalpractice:ReadingsinArabicandworldliterature)

(Cairo:al-Hay’aal-‘ammali-qusural-thaqafa,2015).

Mayya

Mayya,foreverimmersedinherSingersewingmachine,seemedlosttotheoutsideworld.ThenMayyalostherselftolove:asilentpassion,butitsenttremorssurgingthroughherslightform,nightafternight,crestinginwavesoftearsandsighs.Theseweremomentswhenshetrulybelievedshewouldnotsurvivetheawfulforceofherlongingtoseehim.Herbodyprostrate,readyforthedawnprayers,shemadeawhispered

oath.BythegreatnessofGod–Iwantnothing,OLord,justtoseehim.Isolemnlypromiseyou,Lord,Idon’tevenwanthimtolookmyway...Ijustwanttoseehim.That’sallIwant.Hermotherhadn’tgiventhematterofloveanyparticularthought,

sinceitneverwouldhaveoccurredtoherthatpaleMayya,sosilentandstill,wouldthinkaboutanythinginthismundaneworldbeyondherthreadsandtheselvagesofherfabrics,orthatshewouldhearanythingotherthantheclatterofhersewingmachine.Mayyaseemedtohardlyshiftpositionthroughouttheday,orevenhalfwayintothenight,herformperchedquietlyonthenarrow,straight-backedwoodchairinfrontoftheblacksewingmachinewiththeimageofabutterflyonitsside.Shebarelyevenliftedherhead,unlesssheneededtolookasshegropedforherscissorsorfishedanotherspoolofthreadoutoftheplasticsewingbasketwhichalwayssatinhersmallwoodutilitychest.ButMayyaheardeverythingintheworldtherewastohear.Shenoticedthebrillianthueslifecouldhave,howevermotionlessherbodymightbe.HermotherwasgratefulthatMayya’sappetitewassomeagre(evenif,nowandthen,shefeltvestigesofguilt).Shehopedfervently,thoughshewouldneverhaveputherhopeintowords,thatoneofthesedayssomeonewouldcomealongwhorespectedMayya’stalentsasaseamstressasmuchashemightappreciateherabstemiousways.Thesomeonesheenvisionedwouldgive

Mayyaafineweddingprocessionafterwhichhewouldtakeherhomewithalldueceremonyandregard.Thatsomeonearrived.AsusualMayyawasseatedonthatnarrowchair,bentoverthesewing

machineatthefarendofthelongsittingroomthatopenedontothecompound’sprivatecourtyard.Hermotherwalkedovertoher,beaming.Shepressedherhandgentlyintoherdaughter’sshoulder.Mayya,mydear!ThesonofMerchantSulaymanhasaskedforyour

hand.SpasmsshotthroughMayya’sbody.Hermother’shandsuddenlyfelt

unbearablyheavyonhershoulderandherthroatwentdry.Shecouldn’tstopimagininghersewingthreadwindingitselfaroundhernecklikeahangman’snoose.Hermothersmiled.Ithoughtyouweretoooldbynowtoputonsucha

girlishshow!Youneedn’tactsobashful,Mayya.Andthatwasthat.Thesubjectwasclosedandnooneraiseditagain.

Mayya’smotherbusiedherselfassemblingtheweddingclothes,concoctingjusttherightblendsofincense,havingallthelargeseat-cushionsreupholstered,andgettingwordouttotheentirefamily.Mayya’ssisterskepttheirviewstothemselvesandherfatherleftthematterinhermother’shands.Afterall,thesewerehergirlsandmarriagewaswomen’sbusiness.Withoutlettingitbeknown,Mayyastoppedpraying.Insteadshewould

whisper,Lord,ImadeasacredoathinYourname,hervoicewaveringbetweensubmissiveandplaintive.IsworetoYouthatIwantednothing...nothingatall...Only,Isaid,Iwantedtoseehim.IpromisedYouIwouldn’tdoanythingwrong,Iwouldn’tsayawordaboutwhatIfeltdeepdown.ImadeavowandImadeittoYou.SowhydidYousendthisboy,thissonofMerchantSulayman,toourhouse?AreYoupunishingmefortheloveIfeel?ButIneverlethimknowIlovedhim.Ididn’tbreatheawordofittomysisters...Why,whydidYousendMrSulayman’ssontoourhouse?Mayya,youmeanyouwouldreallyleaveus?Khawlaaskedteasingly.

Mayyadidn’tanswer.Areyousureyou’rereadyforit?Asmaasked,chuckling.Justkeepin

mindtheBedouinwoman’sadvicetoherdaughter,thosewordstothebridewefoundinthatoldbookstuffedawayinthestoreroom,youknow,onthecupboardshelveswhereallthoseancientbookswereput.TheMustatraf.Itwasn’tintheMustatraf,saidMayya.Thisannoyedhersister.Whatdoyouknowaboutbooks,anyway?

Asmasnapped.Itwastoothere.Inal-Mustatraffikullfannmustazraf,thebookboundinredleather,theoneonthesecondshelf.TheNovelPartsintheElegantLivelyArts–youknowthebook.TheBedouinwomantellsthebridetouseplentyofwaterforwashing,andpilelotsofkohlontohereyelids,andtoalwayspayattentiontowhatthereistoeatanddrink.Yes,saidMayya,herfaceasseriousaseverandhervoicelow.Andthat

Ishouldlaughwheneverhelaughs,andifthereareanytearsrollingdownhischeeks,therehadbetterbesometearsrollingdownmine.Imustbecontentwithwhatevermakeshimhappyand—What’swrongwithyou,Mayya?Khawlabrokein.Thenomadwoman

didn’tsayallthat.Shejustmeantyou’dfeelhappyaslongashe’shappyandsadwhenheissad.SowhofeelsanysadnesswhenIamsad?Mayyawondered.Hervoice

wasbarelyaudiblenow,yetthewordsadnessrangout,discordant,tosettleuneasilyoverthesisters.WhenMayyasawAlibinKhallafhehadjustreturnedempty-handed

fromyearsofstudyinLondon.Itdidn’tmattertoMayyathathehadnodiploma:thesightofhimelectrifiedher.Hewassotallthatthefast-movingcloudsseemedtograzehishead,andsoverythinthatMayya’sfirstthoughtwasthatshemustprophimupwithherownbodyagainstthewindasitcarriedthosecloudsswiftlyaway.Hewasthepictureofnobility,shethought.Helookedso...sosaintly.Hecouldnotpossiblybeanordinaryhumanbeingwhowoulddropofftosleepafteralongday,whosebodygaveoffsweat.Someone,forinstance,whocouldbeeasily

riledandshoutangrywordsatothers.Ipromiseyou,Lord,Ionlywantatinyglimpseofhim,onlyonemore

time.Thisismysolemnoath.Andshedidseehim,atthetimeofthedateharvest.Hewasleaningagainstapalmtree.Intheheat,hehadjerkedhisheadforwardtoshakeoffhiskummah,andnowthedelicatelyembroideredheadgearsatathisfeet.Thesightofhimbroughttears.Sheonlygotasfarasthetopofthenarrowcement-linedcanalbeforeshebrokeintosobs,hertearsflowingliketheirrigationwaterthatranoverthefalajasitcutapathbetweenthepalmtrees.Mayyafixedallherthoughtsonherbeloved’sspirit.Shemustered

everyatominherbeingandsentthelotmarchingintohis.Thensheheldherbreath.Herheartallbutstoppedbeatingunderthefiercenessofherconcentration.Mayyabentherwilltothetask,orientingherbeingtowardhis,facingit,determinedtofollowwhereveritmightgo.Shesentherspiritintotheether,detachingherselfcompletelyfromtheworld.Herbodyconvulsedandshecouldbarelykeepherselffromcollapsingasshetelegraphedherwholeselftohim,transmittingitwitheverygramofenergyshecouldfind.Thenshewaitedforasignal,someresponsefromhim,anysignatallthatwouldtellherthemessagehadgottenthrough,somewheredeepinside.Nosignarrived.Therewasnoresponse.Isweartoyou,Lord,Ijustwanttoseehim,upclose.Ineedtoseeat

leastthathe’sreal,thatthere’ssweatonhisforehead.Onlyoncemore.Withhishandpressedagainstthetreetrunk,hismouthworkingthepitoutofadate.Ipromiseyou,God,Iwillnottellanyoneaboutthisseainsideofmewhenthesiltrisestochokeme.Iswear,Lord,Idon’twantanyattentionfromhim–whoamI,afterall?Agirlwhodoesn’tknowanythingexcepthowtosew.Idon’tknowaboutbookslikeAsmadoesandI’mnotprettylikeKhawla.Iswear,Lord,Iwillwaitawholemonth,IcanstanditandI’llbepatientbutthenpleasewillYouletmeseehim?IpromiseIwon’tdropanythingIowetoYou,nottheprayersthatareourdutynortheextraoneswesometimesdo.Iwon’thaveanydreamsthatmightangerYou.Iswearit,Lord,Idonotwanttoeventouchtheskinof

hishandorthehaironhishead.IswearIwon’tgiveanyofthisathought,notevenaboutwipingthesweatoffhisforeheadwhenheisstandingthere,underneaththepalmtree...Mayyacriedandcried,andwhenMerchantSulayman’ssonappeared

suddenlyattheirhousesheabandonedherprayers.Afterthewedding,shereturnedtopraying.Ithadallhappened

becauseofheroath,shetoldherself.Thiswasherrecompense.Allahknewthatshewasnottruthfulineverywordsheswore.Hewaspunishingherforhersin.When,afewmonthslater,shebecamepregnant,allshecouldhopewas

thatthebirthwouldbeaseasyashermother’schildbirthshadbeen.SherememberedhermothertalkingaboutMayya’sownbirth.Iwaschasingafterachickeninthecourtyardbecausemyunclehadshownupunexpectedlyintimeforthemiddaymeal.Suddenlymybodywasexploding.IthurtsomuchIcollapsed,rightthereinthecourtyard,andthenIcouldn’tmove.Yourfatherwentandgotthemidwife.Hertimehascome,Sabeekahsaidthemomentshesawme.Shehelpedmeinside–Icouldn’tdoanythingonmyown–andclosedthedoor,andmademestandup.Standonmyownfeet.Andthenshemademestretchbotharmshighenoughtoreachthatpolefixedintothewall,andIdidmybesttoholdon.Butmylegsstartedgivingout.ThenSabeekahshouted–mayGodbeforgivingtothatwoman!–Yaaybish-shoom!Shameonyou!WillShaykhMasoud’sdaughtergivebirthlyingdownbecauseshe’stooweaktostandtallandstraight?Forshame,girl!SoIstoodstraight,clingingtothepole,untilyouslippedoutofme,ya

Mayya,rightintomysirwal.Therewasroomenoughforyouinthosebaggytrousers!Youalmostdied,though.IfSabeekahhadn’tprisedmyhandsfromthepole,andthenifshehadn’tdraggedyouout!Youwould’vediedwiththatcordwrappedroundyourneck.AyywAllahi,Iwasn’tevencheckedbyadoctor,never–nocreatureeversawmybody,no,notme!ThesedaysyouallgotothehospitalsinMaskad,wherethoseIndianwomenandthosedaughtersoftheChristiansseeeveryinchofyou.AyywAllahiMayya,Ihadyou,andallyourbrothersandsisters,

standingastallasagrandmare.Godbegoodtoyou,Sabeekah.ThereIwasholdingtighttothepolewithbothhands,andshewasshoutingatme,Yawaylik!IfIhearevenonelittlescreechyou’llbesorry!Everywomanbringsbabiesoutofherbody,andwhatascandalyouarethen,ifyousomuchaswhimper!Ascandal,andyouthedaughteroftheShaykh!Ididn’tsayoneword,Ididn’tcomplain.AnywayallIcould’vesaidwas,MyLordmyLordmyLord!Andtothinkthatthesedays,womenhavetheirbabieslyingflatontheirbacks,andthemencanheartheirscreamsfromtheotherendofthehospital.There’snolongeranyshameintheworld,ayywAllahi!Whenherbellywassoenormouslyroundthatshecouldnotsleep,

MayyasaidtoMerchantSulayman’sson,Listenhere.Iamnotgoingtohavethisbabyinthisplacewiththosemidwivescrowdingaroundme.IwantyoutotakemetoMaskad—Heinterruptedher.I’vetoldyouathousandtimes,thenameofthecity

isMuscat,notMaskad.Shewentonasifshehadn’theardhim.Iwanttohavethebabyinthe

SaadaHospital.You’dhavemychildslideoutrightintothehandsoftheChristians?Shedidn’tanswer.Whenherninthmonthcame,herhusbandtookher

tothehomeofhisuncleintheoldMuscatneighbourhoodofWadiAday.InwhatthemissionariescalledtheirFelicityHospital–theSaada–shehadherbaby,ascrawnyinfant.Agirl.Mayyaopenedhereyestoseeherdaughtercradledinhermother’s

arms.Shedroppedofftosleepandwhensheopenedhereyesagain,thegirlwassuckingatherbreast.WhenMerchantSulayman’ssoncametoseethenewborn,Mayyatoldhimshe’dnamedthebabygirlLondon.She’sexhausted,ofcourse,hethought.Shemusthavenoideawhat

she’ssaying.ThenextdayMayya,thebabygirl,andhermotherleftthehospitalforhisuncle’shome.Thebaby’snamewasLondon,shetoldhisrelatives.Thewifeofherhusband’sunclemadefreshchickenbroth,bakedherthespecialwafer-thinbreadknowntobegoodfornewmothers,andmadeherdrinkfenugreekwithhoneytostrengthenher

body.ShehelpedMayyatowashherhandsandthensatdownnexttoherbed.Mayya,mydeargirl...Yes?Thewomanpattedhergently.Areyoustillsetongivingthebabysuch

anoddname?DoesanyonenametheirdaughterLondon?Thisisthenameofaplace,mydear,aplacethatisveryfaraway,inthelandoftheChristians.Weareallvery,verysurprised!Butnevermind,weknowyouareweakandfragilerightnow,you’vejusthadthebaby,ofcourseyou’renotyourselfandyouneedmoretime.Dothinkagainaboutagoodnameforthegirl.Callherafteryourmother.CallherSalima.Mayya’smotherwasintheroom,andshewasn’tpleased.Layshya

hibbatayni!Mydearwoman,whywouldyouwanttonameherformewhenI’mstillaliveandnowI’mblessedwithagrandchild?Isupposeyou’rereadyandwaitingformetodie?That’swhyyou’dlikethelittlegirltoinheritmyname?AsGod’scompensation.Ohdearme!Hastily,theuncle’swifetriedtorepairhererror.GodforbidIwould

everthinkthat!shebabbled.Lotsoffolksnametheirchildrenaftertheirparents,whentheirmotherandfatherarestillstrongandhealthy.Maynoeviltouchyou,Salima!Sothen.Let’ssee...well,nameherMaryam,orZaynab,orSafiya.AnynamebutthisLondon.DefiantlyMayyaheldthebabyupinfrontofher.What’swrongwith

London?There’sawomaninJaalaanTownwhosenameisLondon.Theuncle’swifewasrunningoutofpatience.Youknowverywellthat’s

notreallyhername!It’sjustanickname,somethingpeoplecallherbecauseherskinissopale.Andthisgirl,well,reallynow...Mayyaloweredthebabytoherlap.Shemaynothavelightskinlikethe

merchant’sfamilydoes,butshe’sstillthedaughterofthisfamily.AndhernameisLondon.Salimatookthingsintoherownhands.Itwastimeforherdaughter

andgranddaughtertoreturntothefamilyhomeinal-Awafi.Afterall,amothermustrecoverinherfamily’sembrace.Everynewmotherknewtheimportanceofthefortydaysfollowingchildbirth.Mayyawouldspend

itinhermother’shome,underhermother’swatchfulcare.Listen,son,Salimasaidtoherdaughter’shusband.Abdallah,listen–

aboutyourwife,here.She’shadherfirstchildandit’sagirl.Girlsareablessing.Agirlhelpshermotherandraisesheryoungerbrothersandsisters.Whatweneedforthisnewmotherarefortylivechickensandabigjarofgoodpuremountainhoney.Plusapotofsamna,thebestcountrybutterchurnedstraightfromacow.WhenLondonisaweekoldI’llshaveherheadandyouwillmakeanoffering–asmuchsilverasthelittleone’shairweighs.It’llbeenoughtobuyasheep,you’llhaveitslaughteredandyou’llgiveoutthemeattothepoor.SalimapronouncedeveryletterinthenameLondonslowlyand

distinctly.Abdallah’sfacechangedexpressionbuthenodded.Hetookhissmallnewfamilyandhismother-in-lawbacktoal-Awafi,theirhometown.

Abdallah

Theairplanehurtledforward,pitchingintoheavyclouds.IcouldnotgetmyeyestocloseeventhoughIknewitwouldbehoursbeforewereachedFrankfurt.WhenwomenwerejuststartingtohavetheirbabiesinFelicityHospitalinMuscat,thoseblackSingersewingmachines–whicheveryonecalledFarrashasbecauseofthebutterflydesignstampedontheirsleekblacksides–hadnotyetreachedOman.SohowcoulditbethatMayyahadalreadybeensewingclothesonaFarrasha?Cometothinkofit,electricitywasonlyavailableinafewareas.Maybeitwasn’ttheFelicity,perhapstherewereotherhospitalsalreadyoperatingwhenLondonwasborn.Yes,ofcoursetherewereotherhospitals.TherewasMercyHospitalinMatrah,therewasatleastthatone,andperhapsalsotheNahdaHospitalinRuwi.So,whydidMayyainsistongivingbirthinthemissionaryhospital?Idon’tremember...Ican’ttieitalltogether,allthesethingsthathappened.Hermother,sayingtome,SlaughteracowforthesakeofLondon,andgivethemeataway.Bringustwentylivechickensforyourwife–shehassomerecoveringtodo.Shesaidpreciselytwenty,Iremember,andshesaidthewordtwentywithemphasis–thoughIwasgoingtobringherthirtychickens,andaeweaswell...Thentherewasmyuncle’swife,inthehouseinWadiAday,standingupinthecourtyardtoscoldmeatthetopofhervoice:London?Andyouagreedtothat?Don’tyouhaveanythingtosayaboutyourowndaughter’sname?Thatoldhouse...Idon’tknowiftheytorethathousedownorsoldit.

AftermyunclediedIonlysawthatauntofmineonceortwice.WhenLondongraduatedfromtheMedicalSchoolatSultanQaboosUniversity,shesaid,Papa,IwantaBMW.Andwhenwemovedtoournewhouse,MayyamovedtheFarrashaintothestorageroomthere.Whydidshestop

sewing?Whendidshestop?AfterMuhammadcamealong,surely.Right,hewasbornthesameyearIinheritedFather’sbusinessandwemovedtoMuscat.Mayyawasveryhappyaboutthemove.Shedidn’twanttoremainunderhermother’scontrolfortherestofherlife,shesaid.AndwhenshehadMuhammadshestoppedsewing.IrememberMayyaputtingonanenormousfeasttocelebrateourmove

tothenewhouseinMuscat.Sheinvitedallofherfriendsandshehadtospreadoutaverylongtableclothtoholdallofthefood.Salimwasinelementaryschoolthen,andMuhammadseemedaperfectlyordinarynursingbaby.Mayyawashappyandsparklingthatnight.Afterthepartysheslippedonherdarkbluenightshirt.Doyouloveme,Mayya?Iaskedher,onceeveryoneelsewasasleep.

Shewasstartled,Icouldseethat.Shesaidnothingandthenshelaughed.Shelaughedoutloud,andthetoneofitirritatedme.WheredidyoupickuptheseTV-showwords?sheasked.Ormaybeit’sthesatellitedishoutthere.It’stheEgyptianfilms,havetheyeatenupyourmind?Muhammad,tryingtostanduponmyknees,andthentugginghardat

mybeard.Mayyaslappedhim,andhecried.Ineverdaredshaveoffmybearduntilaftermyfatherdied.Andwhentheystartedliteracyclasses,Mayyaenteredthesixthyearstraightaway,sinceshealreadyknewhowtoreadandwriteaswellashavingsomebasicmaths.Mayya,Isaidtoher,Muhammadisstilltiny.Gotoschoolwhenheisolder.IwanttolearnEnglish,shesaid.Thatwasbeforewegotthedishathome.Andsurely,whenIaskedmyquestion–Mayyawearingthedarkbluenightshirt–whenIaskedwhethershelovedme,thatdishhadn’tappearedyet,andIwasn’tfollowinganyTVprogrammesorwatchinganyEgyptianfilms...Then,myfather,decliningfast,intheNahdaHospital.WhenIstuck

myhandouttomeethis,heknockeditaway.WhenImarchedinhisfuneral,mykneesabandonedme.Muhammadwasonlyayearoldthen.AndwhenIaskedMayya,Doyouloveme?shelaughed.Shelaughed!

Loudenoughtoshattereverywallinthenewhouse.Herlaughter...thechildrenfledfromit.

MayyaneverwatchedTVserials.SalimlovedtheMexicanserialsforatimebuteventuallytheyboredhimandhethrewhimselfintovideogamesinstead.EverytimewewenttoDubaiheboughttwoorthreegames.Mayya’smothersayingtome,Mayya’smydarlingdaughter.Abdallah,

myson,she’sinyourcarenow,andyoumusttakecareofher.Butdon’ttakeheraway,don’ttakeherfromme,awaytoMaskad.Nooneisbetteratthesewingmachinethansheis.Mayyadoesn’tliketoeatmuch,ortotalkmuch,youknow,Abdallah...Earlier,muchearlier:me,sayingtomyfather,Please,Father!Iwantto

gotoEgyptorIraq,Iwanttostudyatuniversitythere.Hegrabbedmebytheneckandbarkedatme.Bythisbeardofmine,IswearyouarenotleavingOman.Doyouwanttosinksolow?TocomebackfromEgyptorIraqwithyourbeardshavenoff?SmokinganddrinkingandIdon’tknowwhat?Isthatwhoyouwanttobe?Soinstead,immediatelyafterfinishinghighschoolIwenttoworkinhisbusiness.Itwasn’tuntilafterhediedthatIcouldmovethefamilytoMuscat.

LittleLondonwasverycuteandshehadfilledoutbythen.Inthevillage,everyafternoonMayyabathedherinthefalaj.Scamperingalongthecanalwithitsrunningwateralwaysmadeherlaugh.IboughtherHeinzbabyfoodandMilupababycerealsandpowderedformula.Shewastheonlychildinallofal-Awafiwhogotsuchthings.IboughtthematthecanteenandMayyaboastedofhavingthem.Butmyfatherstillshoutedatme,callingmeboy.Iwasthefatherofthreechildren,Iwasnoboy...Goingintoseehiminthere,andhewouldstartatitagain,strippingoffhisdishdashaandhisvest.Hissparsewhitechesthaircaughtthepalesunlightslinkingaroundthoseheavycurtainsclosedovertheonlywindow.Iwentovertoopenthembutheshookhisfingeratme:Iyyaaka,boy!Watchoutyoudon’t!SoIleftthemastheywere.Hewentonshouting,inoneofthoseboutsofravingthattookoverhismindformostofthetwoyearsbeforehisdeath.Boy!Boy!TieSanjarup,tiehimtothecolumnontheeastsideofthecourtyard,outthere,outinfrontofthehouse.Anyonewhogivesthatslavewaterorshadehastoanswertome.I

kneltdownbesidehim.Father,thegovernmentfreedtheslavesalongtimeago,andthenSanjarwenttoKuwait.(EverysummerLondonwouldsay,Papa,let’svisitKuwait!ButMayyaalwaysrejectedtheidea:Sowe’regoingtogetawayfromthisheatbyescapingtosomewherehotter?)AnOmanimarriedSanjar’sdaughterandshecamebackwithhimtoliveinMuscat.WhenshesawmeintheNahdaHospital,wheresheworkedasanurse,sherecognisedme.Atthesightofmyfather,whowasveryillbythen,herlipscontorted.Myfathercallsout,weakly,hisfever-blacklipstrembling.Tieupthat

slave,tieupthatSanjarsohewon’tstealasackofonionseveragain.Iremainsilentandhewaveshiscaneatmeinfury.Boy,can’tyouhearme?ListentowhatI’mtellingyou–goandpunishhim,go,it’stheonlywayhewon’tstealanymore.Londonplayinginthewater,whichsheloved.Londonwassixwhen

Mayyachewedmeoutonetimeforleavinghertoplayinthemuddyflowofwaterfortwohours.Londonwillgetpolio,shewarnedme.Londonwillbeparalyzed.Icouldn’tsleepforseveralnights,andIcouldn’ttakemyeyesoffhertinyfeet.Butshedidn’tcometoanyharm.Shewentonscamperingaroundlikeaminiaturegazelle.Myfather’slipsturnedblack,hiseyebrowsreceded,andthespitflewin

alldirectionsfromhismouth.Boy–haveyoutiedthatthievingslaveSanjartotheeasterncolumnyet?Itookhishandandkisseditbuthepushedmeaway.Father,thegovernmentfreedalloftheslaves,andSanjar...thegovernment,Father.Hegrowledunderhisbreathasthoughhehadfinallyheardme.What’sthegovernmentgottodowithit?Sanjarismine,hedoesn’tbelongtothegovernment.Thegovernmentcan’tfreemyslaves.IboughthismamaZarifafortwentysilverthalers!Ifedher,whenasackofricecostahundredpuregoodsilvercoins.Yes,that’sright,ahundred.Onethalerknockingagainstthenext!Aah,Zarruf,sopretty...softandgentle,Zarruf,butthenyougotolder.Aah,thatonegrewvainandcocky!ImarriedherofftoHabibandthensheproducedthisthief.Whatdoesthegovernmenthavetodowithanyofthis?Myslave,mine.Howcouldhetravelanyway,withoutgettingpermission

fromme?How,boy?Whenhebegantoshiverandquakeagain,thesweatrunningdownhis

neckandoozingacrosshischest,Iwipeditawaywiththebluetowelwhichwasalwayshangingonanailonthedoor.Afterhedied,thattowelofhisvanished.Goingintohisroom,cryinguncontrollably,knockingagainstthefloorandwrithinginmysweat,IwouldlookforthetowelbutIcouldneverfindit.TheFarrashasewingmachinevanishedtoo.InevergointothestoreroombutIknowMayyaishidingitsomewhereinthere.Mayyamakesgorgeousmeatsambusak.Ionlylikesambusakshaped

byherhands.Whenwemovedtothenewhouseshemadeahugeplatterofitalongwitheverythingelse.Mayya,Isaidtoher,Letthemaidhelpyoucook.Shewassilent.Afewmonthslater,sheinsistedonsendingthemaidbacktoherhometown,withoutanywarning.Butthatnighttheroomsmelledofperfume,andIcouldhalf-seeherbodythroughherdarkbluechemise,andIaskedher,Doyouloveme,Mayya?Andshewassilent.Andthenshelaughed.Laughed!Shelaughed.Iwasthetallestboyintheclass.Zarifatuggedthehemofmydishdasha

downashardasshecould.Iguessshethoughtmaybeitwouldlastawhilelongerifshekeptpullingitdown.Everytimesheyankedithardinback,thenecklineinfrontattackedandnearlychokedme.Howmuchdoyouhavethere,boy?theteacheraskedme.Ihadcarefullysavedmygiftfromtheholyday.AllIhadboughtwasasinglesweetdriedcoconutbar.Halfariyal,Isaid.Theteacherburstoutlaughing.Laughterlookssodisgustingsometimes.Whenpeoplelaugh,theylooklikemonkeys.Theirbelliesshakeandtheirnecksshudder,andworstofall,theiryellowteethdisplayallthedecay.Howoldareyou?Ten,ormaybetwelve.Theteacher,UstazMamduh,laughedagain.Youdon’tevenknowyourownage?You’reverybigforthefirstgrade!ButwhatcouldIdoaboutthat,whentheschooldidn’tevenopenuntilIwasalreadyhalfwaygrownup?Thepupilswereallmakingnoise.Theirdishdashasdidnotpressagainsttheirneckslikeminedid.UstazMamduh,theywhined,wedon’twantAbbuuudtositinfrontofus,he’stootall!Abdallah,you’retooootall!UstazMamduhtook

myhandandaskedinawhisper,hisEgyptianaccentasbroadasever,Doyouhaveanyjelly-sweetsforme?Ishookmyhead.Tomorrow,bringsomeofthosejelly-sweetsyoufolksmakehere,tomorrow,hesaid.Athome,Zarifashoutedatme.Jelly-sweets?Justlikethat?Notapen,notanotebook,no,hesaidjelly-sweets?Habibhadabandonedherbythen,andSanjarwasalwaysfleeingthehouse.Shededicatedhertimetocookingandtome.Mayya–shewasalwayssobusy,atfirstwithsewingandthechildren,

andthenitwasschoolandherfriends,andthen,sleep.WhenIwaslittleIusedtosmellthefragranceofbrothonZarifawheneverIshovedmyheadintoherchest,tryingtogotosleep.UstazMamduhsaid,Abdallahknowshowtowritehisnameandhewillbemovedtogradethree.That’showIcametobeinthirdgradewithfourothers,allofwhomcouldwritetheirnamessuccessfullyontheblackboard.OrtheyhadbroughtchunksofdarkOmanijelly-sweetsfortheteacher.AsEgyptianashewas,UstazMamduhlovedtheOmanidelicacy.Thecloudsfoldup.Suddenlythroughthesmallairplanewindowthe

skyisclear.Abdallah,sonofMerchantSulayman,dozesoffforafewmoments.Ashewakesupheisstillhalf-talkinginhissleep.Don’thangmeupsidedowninthewell,don’t.Please,no!Don’t!

London

Asthesuncameup,Salimasuddenlyfeltawarmsenseofcontentment,asthoughthesunwerebeamingitsraysdirectlyontoherheart.Shewasagrandmother.True,thisreddishlumpoffleshwiththeoddnamehadnoneofherbeauty;butafterall,thelumpwashergranddaughter,andonewayoranotheritmadeherproud.Shesweptthecourtyardandfresheneditupwithasprinklingofwateracrossthepacked-dirtsurface.Shedraggedtherolled-upredPersiancarpetfromthestoreroom,shookithardtoexpelthedust,andunrolleditalongthelengthofthereceptionroom.Inthemiddleroom,shetookdowntheelegantchinathatalwayssatinthehighdormer-likeaperturespunctuatingthethickplasterwall,andrubbedeachpiecetoashinebeforecarefullysettingthembackintotheirniches.ShespreadoutnewbeddingonthefloorforMayyaandthenewborn.Shedidn’tsummonclumsyKhawlatobake;shepreferredtodoitherself,forthebreadarecoveringnewmotherneededwasveryspecial.Shemixedtogetherthepurecountrybutterandmountainhoneytospreadonthebread,andafterallofthesepreparations,shemadecertainthatMayyaateeverylastbiteontheplateanddrankthemilkboiledwithfenugreektothelastdrop.Shemadecoffeelacedwithcardamomfortheoccasionandsetoutaplatteroffreshfruitanddates.Shearrangedtwobottlesofrosewaterandasmallcupofsaffrononagilttraywiththeincenseburner,andputthecoffee,platesandtrayofscentsintheroomreadyforvisitsfromherneighbours.Sheknewthewomenwouldsooncomeround.Shebathedherselfinwatersteepedinherspecialblendofherbs–sincethedayshewascreatedsoaphadnevertouchedherbody.Sheputonherbestrobeandkneltdownbesidehersilentdaughter.Suddenlyaloud,gruffvoicefilledtheentirecourtyard.Bismillahi...

masha’allah...allahummasallialan-nabi...allahummasallialal-

habib...bismillahi...InthenameofGod,theOnewhoismercifulandcompassionate.Mayblindnessstriketheeyeoftheenviousone!Masha’allah,it’sGod’swill,thisisright!Thefirstone’sagirl,andagirlcomestoraiseherlittlebrothers.Tenboyswillfollowher,Godwilling.Bismillahi...allahumasallialan-nabi.PrayersbeontheblessedProphet!Atthisvoice,Salimagaveherdaughteralittlewarningslap.Don’teven

thinkaboutgettingyourselfup,notforjustanyone,girl!Notforher.It’sonlytheoldman’ssweetheart,that’sall.Zarifastrutteddownthelongroom,pausingdeliberatelyand

methodically,thenameofGodstreamingincessantlyfromhermouth.ShedughertoesenergeticallyintothePersiancarpettotestitsdepthandsoftness.Sheshovedasidethethin,almosttransparentcloththatprotectedthetrayoffruitanddates,andsizeditupwithaswiftglance.Shejiggledthetinysilverspooninthecuptoassureherselfthatitreallydidholdthick,solidthreadsofsaffron.Onlythendidshecontinueonherwaytowardsthemiddleroom.Welcome,Zarruuuuf,mutteredSalima,withnoattempttokeepthe

derisionfromhervoice.My,my,you’vecomesoearly!Ifonlyyouhadwaitedawhile,saytendaysorso.Nowyou’llhavetoexcuseme,mylegisgivingmetrouble,it’spainfulenoughthatIcan’tgetuptogreetyou.ZarifaheavedhermassivebodytotheflooratthefootofMayya’s

bedding.Shesuckedinaslowbreath.Relax,dearie,justkeepyourselfwhereyouareresting,milady!Anyway,whendidyouevergetupforZarruuf?Shetwistedthehugesilverringonherrightindexfingerandleanedintothematslightly.Howareyoudoing,Mayya?Goodgirl,you’resafeandsound,blessedwithagoodstrongbodyandthebaby,mygirl...I’msosorry,Icouldn’tcomeanyearlier,becausemyboySanjar,justnowhe’sgotanotherbabygirl.Mabrukeen,Salimasaid.Doublecongratulationsonyourblessed

addition!Wedidn’thearthenews.ZarifaleanedmoreheavilyovertherecumbentMayya.Onlyyesterday.

TheviperShannahadagirl,anotherdaughterforSanjar.Wehadourhandsfull.

OppositeZarifa,Salima’sresponsewastobendcloseroverherdaughter.Andtoday?sheasked.Where’veyoubeensincedawn?Youcouldn’tcometoseeyourmaster’sdaughter?Butofcourse,wehavetoremembertheproverb-giver’swords:Thefeetwalkfastforthelovingheart’ssake,butwhenyoufeelnolonging,yourfeetdragandache.Zarifastretchedherselfoutandnarrowedhereyes.No,that’snotthe

rightproverb,habba!Listen,milady.Youknowperfectlywell,theoldbubberonlyeatsZarifa’sbread.Andtheproverb-makersays:Who’sfondofyou,lovehimback,whoshovesyouaway,shovehimback,whokeepshimselffromyou,givehimthesack.Well!Iseenoone’sbeenheretoseeyouyet,noonewhosecoffeewe’dbepouringoutrightnow.Handoverthelittlegirl,Mayya,I’llsaysomeprayersforher,makesomepleasupthere.Thelittlegirlwantstonurse,Salimainterjected.Zarifasmiledand

wiggledhershoulderslightly,likeadancer.Fisharegoodforher,youknow,they’llmakehermilkcome.Notsogoodwhenshe’sjustgivenbirth,Zarruuf,Salimasnapped.Zarrufguffawedandsangout,Theproverb-giversays:Givethesickwhattheyyearnfor,butit’sGodalonewillrestore.Butwhynotsomesaltedfish,sincedearAbdallahalreadybroughtherfortyhens?Shemusthaveherstrengthback!EventhatviperofSanjar’s–hebroughtheralivechickenoutofthegoodnessofhisheart,andhoneyandbuttertoo,andstillshedoesn’twantmetocookforher.Theproverb-spinnersays:Whentheass’sbellyisfulloffood,thenandtherehekicksyougood.She’sforgettingthosedayswhenshedidn’tevenhaveadishdashatocoverherbody,waybackbeforeshemarriedmyboy.Yaaynialayk,youpoorboy,mySanjar.Yourlucktookawrongturnwiththatviper!Getup,Mayya,situpnowandnursethegirl,mutteredSalima,

showingherdisgustwithherguest.Mayyastruggledintoasittingposition.Theviperwho’swithmyboynurseslyingdown,Zarifasangout.Likea

bitchdog.Won’tevensitup.AndshenamedthegirlRasha.Mywretchedsondidn’tsayaword–well,what’shegoingtosay?She’dbitetheboy’s

fleshandpoisonhimifhesomuchassaidaword.InsteadofnamingthemHabibaorMaryamorFatima,theygivethemthesenames–Mervat,andRabab,andNaabaab,Shaaakaaab,Daaaadaaaab,ormaybe,whynot,She-who-gouges-out-Satan’s-eye?Whataworlditis!Andyou,Mayya,nowwhat’syourbabynamed?Mayyawasstaringintothebabygirl’sface,nestledatherbreast.London.Therewasasuddensilence.Zarifadroppedherhead.Thensheheaved

herimmensebodyoffthefloor.Mustgetmyselfmoving,shemuttered.Havetomakelunchforyou.Shegottoherfeetheavilyandheadedforthekitchen.Salimaletherbreathoutslowly.Shewasworriedthattheoilyhueof

thewallsinherewasdarkerandheavierthanitoughttobeforanewmother.Still,shepreferredtokeepherrecoveringdaughterinthisroombecauseitwaswarm,andguestswouldseetheshelvesmadebythelittlewall-openingsstackedwithfancyplates.Themandus,theold,elegantlyworkedwoodenchestwithitsbrassfittingsthatshe’dhadsinceherownwedding,addedsomegracetotheroomaswell,especiallysinceithadrecentlyacquiredafreshglossandanewlayerofgiltpaintonthefixings.AndtherewerethecushionsandthecarpetsembroideredandsewnwithIndiansilk.Salimawasalwaysverycarefulwithdécorandadornment,exceptwhenitcametoherownbody.Whenthevoiceofthemuezzin’swifesangout,askingpermissionto

comein,Salimahurriedovertotheopenendofthereceptionroomtomeether.AtthesamemomentZarifaemergedfromthekitchen,whichsatattheeasterncornerofthecourtyardinfrontofthehouse.Well,justlookthere!Salima’slegsareallbetternow,shecangetupafterall!shemutteredloudly.AsSalimaandthemuezzin’swifeweregreetingeachotherwith

obviouswarmth,Zarifa’sloudhoarsevoicesailedacrossthecourtyard.Theproverb-makersays:Morningorsunset,thebeloved’slovedever,butnowelcomefortheother,thoughproudandclever!Sheslappedherpalmacrossherthighanddisappearedbackintothekitchen.

Yearsagothemuezzin’swifehadcomeherefromthetownofSama’ildeepintheinterior.HerownnamewaslongforgottensincepeoplehadstartedcallinghersimplyMuezzin-Wife.SheandSalimalaunchedthemselvesintoaconversationthatmeanderedandbranchedoffintonewtales,becomingevermoreengrossing.Mayyastaredathernursingbaby,hergazesilentandneutral.Asmacameinandsatdownnexttothem.Listen,Mama!Youhaveto

makeupthismixtureforMayya,justlikethewriterofthisbookFruitfortheWayfarersaidtodoit.It’sgot—WithalaughSalimainterruptedher.Idon’tneedanyofyourmedicine

booksorthosefancydukhtoorsteachingmewhattomakeformydaughter.Ibroughtupfivelivinghealthysouls,Idid,andnoonehadtoteachmehowtodoit.Thosebookswillmakeyoureyespopoutifyoukeeponreadingthemallthetime.Comeon,timeforsomecoffee.Lookhere,Mayya,saidAsma.Modernmedicinehasestablishedthat

datesareverygoodforawomanwhohasjustgivenbirth,andthatwasrevealedintheQur’an,too,afterall,whenOurLadyMaryamshookthepalmtreeandthedatesfelldownonher,andallaround.ShewasinchildbirthandintheQur’anshewastold,‘ifyoushakethepalm-treetrunk,towardsyou,itwillbringyoufreshripedates.’Asmapronouncedthewordrutbanintheclassicalwaywithitsproper

grammaticalending,hopingtodazzleMuezzin-Wife.Buthermother’sfirmhandaroundherarmyankedherawayfromhersister.LeaveMayyaalone!She’lleatonherown,byherself,whenshewantsto.Why?askedAsma.Muezzin-Wifehadananswerreadyandsheintoned

ithalfunderherbreath.Becausesheisuncleaninside.Itisnotproperforpeopletoshareherfood.Itisnotpermittedtoeatfromthesameplatterasanuncleanwoman.Asmawasannoyed.Shewascertaintherewasahadithonthis.Shewas

convincedthatGod’sMessengerhadsaidorshownsomehow,inhisownlife,inwhathetoldothers,thatawomancouldeatanddrinkincompanynomatterwhathercondition.Butinthepresenceofthemuezzin’swifeshecouldnotsayanything,sincethewomanmightthinkshewas

criticizingtheFaith.Zarifacameintopourtheircoffee.Shehadalwaysbeentheonly

womanofslaveoriginswhoatefromthesameplatteroffoodasthefreewomendid.Infact,she’dgivenherselfthisprivilege,imposingitontheladies.Butnoonehadeverobjected,orstartedanargumentwithheroverit.Nowshebegantossingchunksofthesweetoilydelicacythatmarkedspecialoccasionsintohermouth,lickingtheoilleftonherfingerswithobviouspleasure.Takeiteasyonyourself,Zarifa,Muezzin-Wifemuttered.Remember

aboutyourdiabetes.Yourbody–masha’allah!–Iwouldn’tsayit’sexactlyscrawny.Zarifacackled.Whatshouldscaremeaboutbeingsugar-sick?Death

comeswhenitcomes,miladydear.Noneedforustotortureourselvesoverit.Andmybody–masha’allah!–isjustfine.Maytheenviousonegoblind!Idon’tlistentowhatthosedukhtoorssay.Sukkari,theysay!Well,diabetesornodiabetes,Idon’tmindthem.Anyway,astheproverb-makersays:Thefleshofyouth?Oldagedevoursit!Sherefilledhercupandsipped,herbulgingfingersslippingaroundthecup.Muezzin-Wifesmiledthinly.SeekGod’sforgiveness,Zarifa!Theflesh

ofyouthisdevouredbyoldage?Howmucholder,Zarifa?MayGod’sforgivenessalwaysbethere,sincehumanshavesuchtallhopes!You’reatleastfiftynow.Zarifashrugged.So,what’sfifty,yahabba!Fiftyisthesummitof

youthfulness,Isay.Andmyson’sonlyjusthadachild.Ididn’tbecomeagrandmotherbeforeIwasevenforty,likesomefolksdo.Salimaactedasthoughshehadn’tbeenpayingattentionanddidn’t

understandthegistoftheremarkthatZarifahadflungherway.Shebusiedherselfeatingorangesections.Itdidnotbotherherthatshehadbecomeagrandmotherwhilestillinherearlyforties,andshemadealittleshowofherindifferencetoZarifa’scomments.ButMuezzin-Wifepersisted.True,Zarifa,wAllahi,youaren’treallyelderly,butyouwereintoomuchofahurryanyway.Youmarriedoffyourboysoyoung.Zarifasatupstraighter,swallowedthesweetandlookedthemuezzin’s

wifestraightintheeye.Mercybe!shesaid.Ididn’trealiseShannawassuchaviper.Herfatherhadjustdied,andoneshowsmercytothedead.Herpoormiserablemother,Masouda,wentmad.Thegirlisarelative,Itoldmyself.There’saconnectionfromthewomb,Godforbidweabandonher.AndIaskyou,anyway,wasitbettertomarryoffSanjarortoleavehimtothemercyofallthosemenwhoknowexactlywhatthey’reafter?SalimagaveherasharplookandMuezzin-Wifeshookherheadhard.

SeekGod’sforgivenessforsuchtalk,sheexclaimedhastily.Morewomen’svoicescouldbeheard,askingleavetoenter.Salimagave

Asmaasign.Shegottoherfeetsluggishly.Asmawasnotatallconvincedthatshehadnoright,asanunmarriedgirl,tositwiththemarriedwomenandlistentotheirconversations,especiallysincethe‘experienceoflife’thatthiscustomoftheirstriedsohardtokeepfromherwassomethingshecouldobtaineasilyenoughfrombooks.Aah,thebooks!ThethoughtoftheenormouspleasureofbooksquickenedAsma’space.Itwasagoodmomenttoloseherselfintheirjoys.

Abdallah

AsmuchasIhavetravelled,Istilllikegettingtheseatbythewindow.Iliketostaredownatonecityafteranother,dwindlingandthenvanishing.Papa,Londonsaidonce,youtravelanawfullot.Ididnotsaytoherthatwhenweareawayfromhome,innewandstrangeplaces,wegettoknowourselvesbetter.Andthatisexactlythewayitiswithlove.Londondoesnotknowmuchaboutstrangeplacesorbeingfarfromhomebutshecertainlyknowsaboutlove.Herstubbornenduranceunderhermother’sblowsalluredandpainedmeinequalmeasure,untilIcrackedthewhipmyselfandmarriedhertohim.Whatdoyoureallyknowaboutlove?shedemandedofhermother.

Fromtheveryfirstdayyouopenedyoureyesonlife,youneversawanyone,untilyousawmyfather.Howoldwereyouwhentheymarriedyoutohim?ShethoughtIwasoutofthehouseatthetimebutIwasthereandI

heardhersaythesethings.Mayyalaughed,buttherewassomethingalmostviolentinherlaughter.Hearingit,Iwasfrightened.Andthatwasall–shedidn’tactuallysayanything.Shedidnotsaythatshelovedme,hadeverlovedme.Shedidn’tsaythatatall.NowmyfatherisdyingandIamsuffocating.Thetubesgoingintohisbodysuckedthelifeoutofme.Hemumbled

thingsIcouldn’tmakeout,anditwasIwhocried,sittingtherenexttohisbeduntildaylightcame.MuhammadwasonlyayearoldandIwasthinkingofhim,too,asIsatatthebedsideofmydyingfather.Londonscreamedwhenshefoundouthehaddied,andMayyachidedher.Yourscreamsmakethedeadhurt,shetoldLondon.Ithadbeenalongtime–itwasyearsbefore–thatshehadsaidtome,Don’tyouseethatyoucarryyourrespectforyourfathertoofar?Iscoldedherforsayingsuchathing.

UstazMamduhsaid:IcameasaservicetopatriotismandArabism.Londonsaid:IwantaBMW,itsuitsmystatusasadoctorandasthe

daughteroftheHouseofMerchantSulayman.WhydidLondonhavetomentionhertiesofbloodtohergrandfather?Salimsaid:IwantthenewPlayStation.Zarifasaid:Bestwemarryoffthisboybeforesomethinghappensthat

we’llreallyregret.Myauntsaid:GotoMuscatanddon’tworry,I’llseetothingsintheBig

House.MypartnerAbuSalihsaid:Thisdealiswatertight.TeacherBillsaid:Whydidn’tyoulearnEnglishwhenyouwerelittle?

Nowdoyourealisehowimportantitis?It’sthemostimportantlanguageintheworld.Themostimportantlanguageintheworld.Intheworld.Theworld.

Theworldisverybig.Verysmall.MypartnerAbuSalihsaid,We’refinishedwiththeoldwaysofcommerce.It’sallaboutadsthesedays.That’swhatmovesmindsandopenspockets.Pockets,pockets.Papa,Isaid,Iwantariyal.Andhelaughed.Awholeriyalforascruffy

ladlikeyou?Inmydays,weusedtohopemaybeonedaywe’dseeapennywithourowneyes.Onesinglelittlepenny!Iwrotehernameonthepalm-treetrunk.Iengraveditwithhotmetal

ontothegateoutatthefarms.Mayya.Thesmallworld.Thelargeworld.No,thanks,Idonotwantanyjuice.Iwantshay.Yes,tea.Moretea,please.Whyismyheadpounding?ThestockexchangecollapsedandMayyascreamedandmoaned,Youmeantosaywearen’tbuildingthenewhouseafterall?shewailed.Ourownthree-storeyhouse!WhatwasItodo?Itcollapsed.Thestockcollapsed.Mayyacollapsed,

Habibfled.Zarifasaidhewasraving.That’sall,raving.Ravingmad.Hefled.Myfatherwentmad.Hewasonthecuspofoldage.Hethreatened,hepromised,andthenheneverreturnedtothesubject.Zarifareturnedtoheroldhabits,freeingherselftotakecareofme.OnthedaymyfatherdecidedtomarryherofftoHabib,Zarifatipped

thepaperhornofpepperintomymouthandpoureditalldown.Thenshegrabbedmyear,squeezedithard,andsaid,IfyoutellanyoneIdidthis,yourfatherwilltrussyouupandhangyouupsidedownfromthepalmtree.Ididn’thaveanyonetotell,anyway.Thepepperburntmythroatallthe

waydown.Idranklotsandlotsofwater,andwhennightcameIcouldnotfindZarifa.IcouldnotfindZarifa’sembracetohidemyselfin.MypartnerAbuSalihsaid:We’lltakeonthisdeal.Mycousinsaid:Buy

abuilding.Realestateisthesafestthinginthiscountry.Thiscountry.Everythinginthiscountrychangeswithastonishingspeed.Londonsaid:Idon’tlikethisal-Khuwayrneighbourhood.Papa,there’s

nowheretowalk.Don’texaggerate,London.Papa,allthesestreetsaredesignedforcars’feet,notpeople’sfeet.Thensheforgotallaboutit,oncesheandherfriendsstartedtoget

absorbedintheirnever-endingexpeditionsfromonemalltothenext,inhercar.Ilovethecapital!saidSalim.True,itisn’tDubai,butwecanfind

everythingwewanthere.Ididn’taskhimwhatexactlyitwasthathewanted.Muhammaddidn’tsaymuchatall.Notthen,andnoteverinhislife.

NeitherhenorSalimmademeashappyasLondondid.Whenshewasborntheworldcouldn’tcontainmeforhappiness.ShewasprettyandcuteandshelookedalotlikeMayya.Atthetime,ZarifasworethatshewouldnotenterSalima’shouse.Shewouldnotgointhereanddoherduty,pouringthecoffeeforallthewomenwhowouldcometovisit.Isaidtoher,Butthisnewbabyismydaughter,mine,andMayyaismywife.WhyareyouthinkingofSalima?Whatdoesshehavetodowiththis?ShesaidshecouldnotstandtoseeSalima,andshewouldnotdarkenthedoorintoSalima’shome.WhenMayyahadMuhammad,shesaid,Iwillnotgotomyfamily’s

housetorestup.I’mstayinghere.I’llhaveamaidtohelp.InthegraduationceremonyIwasgivenmysecondarydiploma.Iheld

ontoittightly.Thatevening,Ishowedittomyfather.Iwasbreathinghard.Helaughed.Whyareyoupantinglikeadoginfrontofeveryone?Youwon’tgainanythingfromthatbitofpaper.Thisiswhatwillhelpyou,hesaid,andhepattedthepocketofhisdishdasha.Helaughed.Helaughed.Laughed!Icouldn’tfindanyonetoask.Noonewouldtellmehowshedied.

WhenIgotolderIaskedmyaunt.Itwasthebasilbushthatkilledher,shesaid.Atconferences,everysooftentheyplaceflowersalongthetables.But

neverbasil...Howcouldthisbe,Auntie?Howcouldabasilbushkillsomeone?Shewavedmyquestionaway.Zarifadespisedmyaunt.WhenmyfatherdiedandImovedtoMuscat

shewenttojoinhersonSanjarinKuwait.Howcouldmymotherdiebecauseofabasilplant,Zarifa?Idon’tknow.But–youknoweverything,Zarifa.Hooting,sheyankedmeclose.ClutchedtoherchestIcouldsmellher

sweat,mingledaseverwiththatchicken-brothscent.IamZarruuf,shesaid.That’sallIam.AndIneverknoweverything.Iknowhowtocook,Iknowhowtoeat,howtodance,andIknow—ShemadethekindofobscenegestureI’dbeguntonoticealot,frommen,fromwomen,assoonasthefuzzbegantoshowacrossmyupperlip.Yes,Ididstealmyfather’srifle.IwentwithZarifa’ssonSanjarandour

friendMarhuntohuntmagpies.Sanjarwarnedme,Ifyoudon’tgetholdofthatrifleyou’renotaman.Marhunadded,Andifyoudon’tcome,we’llroastyouinsteadofthemagpies.Anyway,oncewewereinthedeserttheyattackedmeandheldmedown.Theytriedtoforcemetosayit:Iamtheslave,IamAbdallahtheslaveofSanjarandMarhun.ButIdidn’tsaythat.Instead,Isaid,I’lltellZarifaeverything.Sothey

leftmealone.Buttheyatethemagpiesallbythemselves.IsworethatwhenIgrewupIwouldeatahundredmagpiesallbymyself.ButbythetimeIwasnearlygrownupitwasagainstthelawtohuntmagpies.

Mayyaneverplantedanybasil.Shelikedgrowingnativewildroses,sweet-smellingjasmineandalsotheotherkindofjasminethathasastrongandpiercingsmell,aswellasdaisiesandgreens,lemontreesandquincebushes.Thecourtyardwasvast,andshecommandeeredmostofitforgardening.OnceIaskedher,Whyaren’tyousewing,Mayya?Yousillyman,shesaid,youdon’tunderstandanything.WhyshouldIgoonsewingwhenthereareseamstresseseverywhereyouturn?Andtobehonest,I’mtiredofit.Butshegottiredofstudying,too,injustthesameway.ShelosthopeaboutlearningEnglishandstoppedgoingtoeveningclasses.WhenIsuggestedweenrolMuhammadintheHopeSchoolforspecial-needschildren,shecriedandcried.Thenshesaid,Mysonisjustlikealltheotherboys.He’llgotoschooljustlikehisbrotherandhiscousins.Muhammadwasnotlikealltheotherchildren,butshedidnotwanttoseethat.Sheneverplantedanybasil.Onenight–itwasaclear,quietnight–Iaskedherwhatshewouldthinkaboutmaybeplantingsomebasil?Itssmellbringsvipers!shesaid.Onthenightafterthemagpiehunt,Zarifadressedmywounds–whichwereprettybad–withsaltandturmeric.AllthewhileIbabbled,askingonesinglequestionoverandover.Howdidshedie,Zarifa?Howdidmymamadie?Zarifahadnotsaidawordallnight.Butnow,finally,shesaid,

Abdallah,myboy!Youknowwhattheproverb-makersays.Ignoranceisbliss.WhenKhawlabegandrivinghercar,Mayyasuddenlyinsistedon

learninghowtodrive.Butshefailedthetest.Thepolicewereprejudicedagainsther,sheannounced.TheywereinconspiracywithKhawla.Mayyawassureofthat.Khawlawasprettyandshehadstyle;therewasaneleganceaboutthewayshedidthings.IhiredadriverforMayyabutshethrewhimoutafterafewmonths.Mayya!Isaid.Whathaveyoudonenow!Butallshecouldsaywas,Yarajul,yarajul,chidingmeasthough,beingaman,Ijustdidn’tunderstand.AfterKhawla’sdivorce,whensheopenedabeautysaloninoneofMuscat’sfanciestneighbourhoods,Mayyatriedagaintogetalicence.Ididnotlistentomycousin.Ididnotbuyabuilding.Iboughtshares

andthenthestockmarketcrashed.Therewasalotoffunnybusinessthatwentonbutthenewspaperswerequietaboutit.Theydidn’tevenprintanythingabouttherapeofHananandherschoolmatesinthesouth.Hananwasteachingatanelementaryschoolwayinthesouth,in

SalalahTown,neartheborderItwasthemiddleofthenightwhenLondonphonedus.Agangofteenagedboyshadassaultedtheteachers’dormitory,shesaid.Therehadbeenrapes.Hanan–shewasraped.Andpeopleweresilent.Whoboughtthisloudsilence?Londonnearlywentmad.ShestayedinthehospitalwithHanan,hergoodfriend,whohadhadanervousbreakdown.Istayednexttomyfatherinthehospital.Overandover,Imoistened

hisdrylipswithdropsofwater,andclosedhiseyes.AndthenIcried.ThoughIdidn’tshedasingletearinfrontofpeopleafterhisfuneral.Inmypressedwhitedishdasha,wearingmydaggerandtherequisitecolouredturban,Iremainedthere,athome,frommorningtosundown,theentirethreedays,shakinghandswithallofthemenwhocametooffercondolences.OverandoverImurmured,Al-baqaalillah.OurlivesareinGod’shands,theirlivesgooninours.Thewell-wishersatemeatandriceandwentaway.Intheevenings,Iclosedmyselfintohisroom.Somethingburnedinsideme,thoughIdidn’t,anddon’t,knowwhatitwas.Somethingwasconsumingme.Inthehospital,myfatherinacoma,Ipushedtheturbanbackfromthetopofmyforeheadandbroughtthescarsofmydeepwound,stillsovisible,ascloseasIcouldtohisopeneyes.ThenIpushedtherobeoffmyshoulderwhichstillcarriedtheharshmarksofknifebladesandroughpalm-fibreropes.Doyourememberthedayofthemagpies?Iwhisperedtohim.Hedid

notmove.Thehandthathadtiedmeupinpalmfibresandhadthrustmedownthewelltodangletherehead-firstforwhatseemedlikehours,myheadandbodycollidingagainsttheedgesofitsstonewalls,didnotmove.Iwhisperedagain,intohisear.Sanjarisalittleyoungerthanme,yes,likeyousaid.ButSanjardaredmetostealtherifle.Iwasgoingtoputitbackwhereitbelonged.Iwouldhaveputitback,butMarhuntoldonme.Hedidn’tmove.Iraisedmyvoice.Sanjarfled,youdidn’thitMarhun,

andInearlydiedoffear,hangingupsidedowninthetotalblacknessofthewell,tiedupinpalmfibresandnoideawhenImightbeuntied.Thehandthathaddoneallofthatnolongermoved.Thehand

remainedthere,passive,fusedtothefeedingtubes,completelymotionless.Iseizedit.Imoveditalongthebumpytracesofmywounds.Ipressedithardintomyfleshandburstintohopeless,desperatetears.

Asma

Asmawentintothebigroomthatthegirlsshared.Remotefromtherestofthehouse,itwaslikeagrowththathadattacheditselftothefarcornerofthecourtyard.WhenMayyaandhersistershadreachedacertainage,theirmotherbegantoworry.Shewouldfeeleasieriftheycouldbekeptapartfromthemainbulkofthehouse.Shedidn’twantthemtorunintomalerelativeswhomightcomeintothemainreceptionroom.Afterall,menfromtheclancouldappearatanytime,comingtofulfilsomefamilyobligation.Sheaskedherhusbandtohavethisroominthecourtyardbuiltforthem.Asusual,Khawlawasscrunchedoverinfrontofhermirror,butshe

hadasmallandunfamiliarobjectinherhands.What’sthat,Khawla?Asmasquatteddownnexttohersister.Khawlawhisperedtheanswer.Lipstick!Asmagasped,tookitfromhersister’shand,andinspectedit.Bright

redinside,thelipstickwasconcealedbyitsawesomeshell,intheshapeofagoldenbird.Wheredidyougetthisthing?Asmaaskedhersister.Khawlasnatcheditawayfromher.IaskedMayyatobuyitformein

Muscatbeforeshewentintothehospitaltohavethebaby.Asmastaredatthefancygoldenbirdandmuttered,Butmymother...Khawlalookedherintheeye.Mymotherwon’tknowanythingaboutit

unless...Asmanoddedtoreassureherandmovedaway,turningtotheshelfwherethebookswerenowlinedup,aftertheirrescuefromthedampandrotinthestoreroom.Shepawedthroughthemuntilshefoundthevolumeboundinblueandreadthetitleoutinaloudvoice.Musnadal-Imamal-Rabi’binHabib.TheWell-SupportedPropheticTraditionsCompiledbytheImamal-Rabi’binHabib.Turningoverthedog-eared,disintegratingtitlepage,shereadtheunevenscrawlonthepagebeneath:

Theownerofthisbook,whobeseechesforGod’smercy,isMasoudbinHamidbinMuhammad,

ithavingcomeintomypossessionasagiftfrommyfriendandbrother,AlibinSalimbin

Muhammad.Iinscribethesewordsonthispage,withmyownhand,fleetinglymortalthoughit

maybe.

Asmadidnotlikehandwriting.Italwaysremindedherofthedaytheschoolhadopenedinal-Awafi,afewyearsback.Theschoolhadopenedbutgirlsolderthantenweren’tallowedin.Theywouldonlybeadmittedtothebasicadultliteracyclasses,andthosedidn’tevenbegintohappenuntilsometimelater.Asmahadheardthatsomeoftheladswhoshowedthemselvesabletowriteouttheirfirstnameswereallowedrightawayintothethirdgrade,whatevertheirrealagewas.Shehadn’tknownhowthatcouldhappen,sinceshewasnotthereonthefirstdayanyway.Shewasalreadytoooldtotryforit.Thenshewasenteredonthebooksfortheadultliteracyclasseseventhoughshewasn’tactuallyoldenoughforthose.Shehadbarelyreachedmiddleschoolwhentheycloseddowntheclasses.Theysaidthereweren’tenoughstudents.Inhersloppy,slopinghand,theteacherwroteontheblackboard:Classesarecancelledduetolackofnumbers.Asmawalkedoutoftheschool.Eversince,unevenhandwritinghadmadehersick.Insteadofpreservingthebeautyofyoureyesyoublindthemthrough

reading,Khawlaremarked.Asmaresponded,buthalfunderherbreath.Shutup,stupid!Eversinceyouleftschooltwoyearsagoyouhaven’tsomuchascrackedabook’scoveropen.HardlyeventheHolyBook!Ifitweren’tformymother’swhiphandinRamadanyouwouldneveropenitatall.Khawlashruggedscornfullyandturnedherback,gazingagainintoher

mirror.Asmaskippedthroughsomepagesandsuddenly,catchingaparticularpassage,shesmiled.Shereaditoutloud.

AbuHurayra,mayGodbepleasedwithhim,recited:WhentheMessengerofGod(mayGod’s

prayersandmercybeuponhim)waspraying,hesaidtohiswife,Aisha,handmemyrobe.She

said,ButIamhavingmyperiod.Hesaid,Thatisn’tyourfaultanditdoesn’tmatter.

Iwassuretherewassomething,Asmabayed.Iknewit!ButMuezzin-Wife...AsmabeganrepeatingtheProphet’swordstoherselfuntilshehad

memorisedthepassage.ShewantedtotellhermotherandMayyaeveryword.Shegiggled,imaginingwhatatizzythiswouldsendMuezzin-Wifeinto–seeingthemalleatingtogether,intheknowledgethatchildbirthsandperiodsandwhathaveyoudidn’tsoilanyone.Shereturnedthebooktoitsplaceamongsttheothers–FruitfortheWayfarerwithitsordinarypaperboundcover,theMustatrafboundinredvelvetandprintedattheMahmudiyyaPressinCairo,thecollectionofpoetrybythefamousancientArabpoetAntarainitsleatherbindingandinsidetheold-fashionedlithographtypeandtheclosehandwrittencommentaryinthemargins.TherewasalsothebookcalledTheStoriesoftheProphets,asmallandwornvolumeprintedinCalcutta,aswellasalargetome,thepagesyellowed,whichwas,thetitlepageannounced,PartTwoofTheUniqueNecklacebythenobleImamShihabal-DinAhmad,AloneofhisAge,theEra’sSage,known(asitalsosaid)asIbn‘AbdRabbih,SonoftheServantofhisLord,fromAndalusia,oftheMalekiteSchoolofIslamicLaw,GodshowerHisbeneficenceonhimandlethimdwellinGod’sbroadestgreenparadise,Amen.Inthemargin(thetitlepagewentontosay)isinscribedthetextZahral-adabwa-thamaral-albabbyAbuIshaqIbrahimbinAli,hewhowasknownasal-HusariofQayrawan,oftheMalekitelegalSchoolofIslam,mayGodAlmightyblesshim.SometimesAsma’sfatheraskedhertoreadtohimfromthistome.She

founditdifficulttofollowthecrampedscript.Justastrying,Asmawouldfindherselfsuddenlyhavingtoawkwardlyshortencertainexpressionscontainingwordsshewasembarrassedtoreadoutloudinherfather’spresence.OnhershelfalsowasthestoryofTawaddudtheJariya,asmallbook

withafewpagesrippedout.YearslaterAsmawouldremembertwothingsaboutthisstory:theabsencecreatedbytherippedpages,andthe

similecomparingTawuddudtheSlave-Girl’snecktothegracefulstemofasilverewer.Therewasalsotheblue-spinedbookcalledKalilaandDimna,the

fablessaidtohavebeenauthoredoriginallyinSanskritbytheIndianphilosopherBidpai,translatedintoPersian,andthentranslatedintoArabicbythescholarAbdallahIbnal-Muqaffa–adiminutivebooknotallerthanahandspan,lookingmorelikealittleschoolnotebook–printedatSadirPressinBeirutin1927.TherewasonepassagefromKalilathatAsmaparticularlylikedtoreadoutloudtoKhawla,foritslyricalbeauty,createdbytherepeatedaasandhaas,thefemininepossessivepronounattheendofsomanynouns.Qaalaal-ghuraab:za’amuuannaardanminaradi...Thecrowsaid:Theyclaimedthatafterthepassageofyears,landswheretheelephantsdweltwentdry.Thewatergrewscarce,thewellsdriedup,thevegetationwaskilledoff,thetreeswitheredawayandtheelephantsgrewverythirsty...TherewerealsosomebooksfurnishedbytheMinistryofHeritage.

Asmahadbegunreadingsomesectionsheaded‘OnMattersofPurity’buttheyweretooboringandshestopped.Theywereodd,too–theveryspecificinstructionsthatshecouldn’tfigureout,becausetheyappearedtomakenosense.Forexample,thatonemustdoone’sintimatebusinessonasoftsurfaceratherthanahardonesothatone’speesinksinratherthanricochetingandpossiblysoilingone’sbody.Yeteverybathroomshe’deverseenhadhardsurfaces.Anotherpointshehadfrettedoverwasthelegists’directiveonalwayswipingyourselfwithstonesbeforeyoucleanedyourselfwithwater.Nevermindthatpeopledidn’talwaysliveinthedesertnow!Thereweremanyothersuchinstructions,whichwereapparentlychangelesssincetheywereneverupdatedinthesetexts,eventhoughsomeofthesebooksofthejurisprudents’rulesthatAsmatriedtoreadhadbeenpublishedquiterecently.AsmaonlyglancedatthethinlittleEnglish-languagebooksMayyahadboughtfromTheFamilyBookstoreinMuscatbeforehermarriage.NoonecouldreadthembutMayyahaddoggedlypersistedinpickingthemupandevenleafingthroughthem.

Asshealwaysdid,beforeturningawayfromthebookshelfAsmariffledthroughthefewpagesremainingfromabookwhosetitleshedidnotknow.Shehadkeptitapartfromtheotherfragile,deterioratingbooksinthestoreroom.Inthesepagesshereadthattext,thoughshealreadyknewitbyheart,evenifshedidnotunderstanditatall.

SomeofthosewhofancythemselvesphilosophersclaimthatGod,MightyisHe,createdevery

soulintheshapeofaball.AndthenHespliteveryoneofthesespheresintotwo,and

apportionedtoeachandeveryhumanbodyonehalf.Itisdecreedthateachbodywillmeetthe

bodythatholdstheotherhalfofthatrentsoul.Betweenthetwoapassionarisesfromthat

ancientbond.Fromonehumanbeingtothenext,theeffectofthisunionwillvary,accordingto

thedelicacyofeachperson’snature.

Qamar,theMoon

Salima’shusbandwasreturningfromtheevening’sconvivialityatthenomads’settlementwhenhewasoverpoweredbyamadecstasy.ThesandunderAzzan’sfeetwasverysoft;hehadslippedoffhissandalstoenjoythequietcoolnessofthedesertsurface.Thefullmoonkepthimfriendlycompany,sendingfamiliarshadowsacrossthesandymounds.Fromafarappearedthelightsofal-Awafi,mutedandremote,asthoughthevillagewereafarawayworldhedidnotknow.He’dspenthalfthenightinstorytellingandconversationwithhisBedouinfriends–theusualsingingandlaughter,themusicofafluteandarebec.Azzanhaddecidedtoreturntoal-Awafionfoot,turningdowntheoffer

ofarideinanyofhisfriends’four-wheel-drivejeeps.ThehomesoftheBedouinscatteredbeneaththelipofthevastsanddunewerenotveryfarawayfromal-Awafi,butatnopointdidthetwosettlementsoverlap.Al-Awafiheldfasttotheimmobilestabilityofitsagriculturalroots.TheBedouin–despiteallappearancesofpermanence,havingsettledinonelocaleandreplacedtheircamelhairtentswithcementblockdwellings–scorned,evendespised,theveryideaofputtingdownroots.Theyreliedfirstandforemostonpasturingcamelsandsheep.Theyheldfasttotheirtraditionalloosegarmentsandtheirfree,untetherednatures,preservingtheimpermeableboundariesthatseparatedthemfromwhatwascalled‘thelifeofthesettled’.TheseeveningsessionsweretheonlythingthatcouldliftAzzanoutof

hisgloomanddepression.MinglingwithhisBedouinfriends,hecouldkeepthatheavycloudfromsettlingoverhisheart,fromconvincinghimthatstoriesandlaughterwerenothingbutthebanalandtrivialgamesofthisfleetinglowerworld,thisdenofsorrows.Whenhewaswiththem,amidstthesinging,thememoryofhistwodeadsonsnolongercaughtin

histhroatlikealumpandhedidn’tfeelsoweigheddownbytheworldthatallhewantedwastovanishandleaveitsfalsepretencesbehind.Whenhewaswiththem,thenotionthatonecouldfeelsomejoyatthepleasuresofthisworldnolongerchurneduppangsofguiltfromdeepinsidehim.Hecouldenjoyhimselfwithoutthelurkingworrythatitwasallachimerahemustavoid;heneededtobeasalerttoitsdangersashewasonguardagainstthemostviciousoftraps.Ashewalkedoverthesands,herepeatedinhisheadsomeoftheverses

they’dsung,tryingtomatchhisstepstothebeatofthetune.Thefaceofhisnewborngranddaughterappearedtohim.Hewasonlyinhismid-fortiesbuthehadbecomeagrandfather!Suddenlyeager,hefeltanurgetoreachhomerightnow,togointothemiddleroomwherehewouldseehertinyface,asleep.Hesmiledtohimselfandwasonthepointofhummingatunewhenhewasstartledbythesightofahumanshadowbetweentherisesofsand.InthenameofGod!hemuttered,andtooktwoquickstepsback.Buttheshadowcametowardshimslowlyandwithoutanyflickerofhesitation.Who’sthere?Azzancalledout.Me.Hewasstartledtohearawoman’svoicecomingbacktohim.A

moment’ssilence,andatallwomanstoodclosebeforehim.Shepulledoffherburqu.Hefelthimselfsomehowgrowcalmer.Whoareyouandwhatdoyouwant?Thewomanmethisgazewithutterdirectness.Herpure,resolute

beautyandthesteadygleaminherlargeeyesdisconcertedhim.Herpiercinglysweetfragranceandthewayshestoodrightthere–soclosetohim!–wasevenmoredisturbing.Butitwasherwordsthattrulymadehimlosewhatwashisalreadyfragilesenseofcontrol.IamNajiya.IamQamar,theMoon.ItisyouIwant.Formanyyearstocomethesewordswouldreverberatethroughhis

head.IamNajiya,IamtheMoon,Qamar,anditisyouIwant.Azzanhadnotknownmanywomeninthecourseofhislife.Certainlyhehadneverknownawomanofsuchresolutionandvalour,awomancalled

afterthemoonitself.Shedeservedanevengreaternamethanthat,hewouldmuse.Shewasmorebeautifulthananyimagehehadeverseenorwouldeverseeagaininthewholeofhislife.InthemoonlightshelookedlikeheimaginedanhouriofParadisemustlook,thosewomenofheavenabove,ofwhomGodhadgiventidingstoHisbelievingservants.Nowsheswayedtowardhim,asilentmovementthatspokeherresolve.Hegrippedhissandals,shovedthemtightlyunderhisarmandfled,runningasfastashecouldinthedirectionofal-Awafi,unabletothinkasinglethoughtaboutanythingatall.Najiyadidnotreturnhome.Shewenttoherfriend’s.Standingoutside

thewooddoorsheshouted.Khazina!Khaziiiiinaaa!Stillarrangingtheburquoverherface,herfriendcameout.Allwell,

Qamar?Comeon,saidNajiya.Comeandstayatmyplacetonight.TheywalkedforalongtimebeforeNajiya’shomecameintoview.My

brotheriscampedoutontheeasternsandbank,sowecansleepinside.Khazinadidn’tsayanythinguntiltheyhadsatdown,facetoface.Whathappened?Heranaway,herfriendansweredquietly.Khazinalaughedsohardshecrumpledflatontothefloor.Godforbid!

He’snoman!Heranaway?Hahaha!Heranawayfromyou,Qamar?Najiyadidnotlaugh.Shewaiteduntilherfriendstoppedshrieking.Iwanthim.Iwillhavehim.Khazinawipedthetearsfromhereyeswiththeedgeofherrobeand

tossedapieceofwoodontothefire.Qamar,thismandoesn’tseemmuchuse.Najiyastretchedherself.ButIwanthim.Andhewillcometome.

WhentheMoonlongsforsomething,theMoongetsherdesire.Khazinashookherhead.Sister,thismanismarriedtothedaughterof

ShaykhMasoud,andhe’stheshaykhoftheirwholeclan.Youthinkhewillleavehertomarryyou?Najiyalaughedthatfamous,ringinglaughofhersthatrevealedher

pearl-liketeeth.Shereallydoesdeservethatnickname,Khazinasaidto

herself.She’stheMooninfull.Nowonderpeoplehaveallbutforgottenherrealname.SlowlyandelaboratelyNajiyaextendedherarmsoverandbehindher

head.WhosaidIwanttomarryhim?Qamardoesn’tletanyonegiveherorders.Iwasn’tcreatedtoserveandobeysomeman.Somefellowwhowouldstealwhatshouldbemineandkeepmefromseeingmybrotherandmygirlfriends!Onedaysaying,No,youcannotgoout,anothertimesaying,No,don’tevengetdressed,don’teventhinkaboutgoingout!Oneminutesaying,Comehere!andthenext,Goaway!No,no,Khazina–AzzanwillbeminebutIwon’tbehis.He’llcometomewhenIwanthim,andhe’llgoawaywhenIsayso.EversinceIsawhimthatevening,sittingwiththeothers,talkingandlaughing,IknewthismanwouldbeQamar’s.Andherunsaway?Heflees?Thatmanscamperedoff,likeIwasajinnitakinghimbysurprise,sohefled!Refuseme?Qamar?There’sneveryetbeenamancreatedwhocanrefuseme,Khazina.Azzanwillcometomeonhisknees.Insilencethefriendswatchedthefirediedownuntiltheyweredrowsy

enoughtofallasleep.Najiyalivedintworoomsopeningontoareceptionroomthat

overlookedthecourtyard,withalowwallthatwentonlyhalfwayuptotheroofing.Butwhenshewasgrowingup,homehadbeenatent.Herfathercouldn’thangontomoney.Shehadneverseenhermotherandsheneverbotheredaskingabouther.Shehadoneloveinthisworld–herlittlebrother.Thescarsonherbodywerethetracesofoldwoundspickedupinthefightsshe’dhaddefendinghimfromotherboys.Shewouldhurryhomeeverydayfromprimaryschooltoaskhimwhohadhurthimtoday.Stuffingheryellowschoolpinaforeinsideherloosetrousersshewouldgoandconfrontthem,inanotherdayoffights.BythetimetheladsstoppedbeatingherbrotherorcallinghimMental,shewasalreadyinmiddleschool.Thatwaswhenshebeganfiguringoutthatshehadn’tbeencreatedtositinahot,humidclassroomwithfiftyothergirlslisteningtostrangewordsaboutgrammarandnumbersandsciencefromdawnuntilthelate-afternooncalltoprayer.Shethoroughlydislikedthe

whiteschoolshoestheyhadtowear,withtheplastickysolesthatturnedblackishafternomorethanaweek,andtheutterlyplaingreymiddle-schooluniformwhichwasalwayscrumpledanddampfromthehot,crowdedspace.ThestrangedialectsspokenbytheEgyptianandSudanesewomenwhotaughtthemmadeheruncomfortable,andshenevergotusedtotheideaofsittinginonelittleplacealldaylong.LeavingschoolsavedherfromhavingtoridestuffedintoapickuptruckwithtenotherBedouingirls,theirsmallbodiesvibrating,buffetedbythewindandstungbythesandparticlesitslappedacrossthem,foranhourormorebeforetheyreachedtheschoolbuilding.Herfatherwasoblivioustoanythingbuthisraucoussessions–men

grillingmeatanddrinking,andthezarexorcisms–andsoNajiyatookover.Shehandledallhisproperty.Shetendedhissheepandcamels,andinafewyearstheirnumbersdoubled.Shefedtheirthoroughbredshe-camelsdates,countrysamnaandhoney,andenteredthemintheracesuntilshesucceededinsellingonetoashaykhfromAbuDhabifortwentythousandriyals.Shehadtogetapassportforthecamel,whomshehadnamedGazelle,beforeshippingherofftoAbuDhabi.Whenthemoneycame,shereplacedthetentwithareinforcedconcretehouse.Sheboughtcarpetsandfancywoodentrousseau-chestsfromtheMatrahsouq.Sheopenlymockedherneighbours,whohadbuiltafulltwo-storeyhousebutstilldidtheirbusinessunderthedesertrush-bushesrightoutside,eventhoughtheirnewhousehadfivebathrooms.Najiyadidnotgiveintoherbrother’scondition,either.Shewouldnot

lethimstayidle.Shetrainedhimtotendthecamelsandsheep.Herfather’sdeathcameasarelief.Nowshecouldtrulyconsolidateherauthorityoverherlife,herpropertyandherfreedom.Asherdevelopingwomanhoodstartedtodrawattention,andwordofherbeautyspreadnearandfar,peoplebegancallingherQamarforshewasasradiantasthemoon.Makinglightofthesuitorswhoflockedtothehouse,shedevotedherselfcompletelytoherbrotherandtohergrowingwealth.Whenshesawtherightman,shetoldherself,shewouldknowhim–andshewouldtakehim.Sheselectedherfriendscarefully.Shesoldherdistinctive

Bedouinneedlework,andherhomebecameamagnetforvisitorsandarefugeforthoseinneed.Womanorman,Najiya’sacquaintancesheldherinrespectandalotofawe.Whenherbrothersuddenlydevelopedpolioandcouldn’tmove,she

closedupherhouse.Formonthsshelivedwithhiminthefarawayhospitalsofthegovernment,relyingonthewomenshehadbefriendedtotakecareofherflock.Timeaftertime,thehospitalauthoritiesexpelledherfromthemen’ssectionwhereherbrotherwaskept.Najiyasimplyrolledherselfupinherblanketandsleptinacorridor.Thedoctorstoldheropenly,aswellasbyinsinuation,thatherbrotherwasacongenital‘Mongoloid’.Nowhislegswouldneverworkagain,andsowhathopesdidshestillhaveforhim?Whenpeopleurgedhertolookforwardtohissalvationthroughdeathsheturnedherbackonthem.Whenshelosthopeinthehospitalsshecarriedhimhomeandshutthetwoofthemin,closingthedoorstoothers.Shetreatedhimherself,foralongtime,tryingeverythingthatexperiencedhealersprescribedandthentreatmentsshedevisedanew,concoctingvariousherbalmixtures.Sherubbedhislegswithhotoliveoilandcrushedcloves.Shetriedtogethimtostandupbyleaningonher.Shetookhisweightonherstrongbackanddraggedhislegsaroundtheroom,backandforth,tryingtogethimtowalk.Sheblendedcolocynthwithmakhyasaherbsandmadehimdrinkthebitterstuffeverymorning,wipingawayhissalivawithhersleeve.Shewouldneverallowthatlookoffutilityinhisslit-likeeyestodeflectherortodefuseherdetermination.Sheshutherearstoanyonewhomockedherattemptsandshevowedherlifetoherbrother.WhenNajiyabintSaidopenedthedoortoherhouseandslaughtereda

pairofcamelsforalmsgiving,herbrotherwaswalkingonhisowntwofeet.

Abdallah

Youkeepupthisauraoffriendlycarebutwhatareyoureallythinkingandfeeling,myhostessoftheair,asyouspendallyourwakingdayssuspendedbetweenskyandearth?Iwasjustlikeyou,hangingbetweentheheavensandtheearth,whenIsawherfirst.IsawheronthedayaftertheGreaterBairamFeast,inthemonthof

Pilgrimage.Myfatherwenttopayhisrespectstohermother,Salima,aswasthecustomduringtheimportantritualperiods,forshewasadistantrelativeofours.Iwasn’twithhimbutIunderstoodlaterthatheparticularlynoticedKhawla,theyoungestdaughter.Thenextmorninghesaidtome,IwantyoutogotoAzzan’shouseforme.IwasoverthereyesterdaytogivethefamilyourfeastdaygreetingsandIleftmywalkingstickthere.SomehowIknewthatmyfatherwouldnotforgethiswalkingstick

anywhere.Thatrodwasmouldedtohishandontheverydayhewascreated.What’smore,Ithought,hewouldnotsendmeofftoretrieveitwhenhecouldaskoneofhisretainerstogoandgetit.Asusualthough,Ididn’traisethesequestionswithhim.IwenttoAzzan’shome,andatthedoorIcalledout,askingpermissiontogoin,lettingthemknowIwasthere.Iwalkedacrossthewidecourtyardandenteredthebigroom.ButitseemsMayyahadn’trealisedIwascomingin,shehadn’theardanythingornoticedmyentrance,andsoshehadn’tbudged.Shewassittingatthefarendoftheroomonawoodenchair,tryingtothreadtheneedleonasewingmachine.ItwasablackFarrashaandshewasbentoverit,apale,delicate,mysteriouslyremotefigure.Icaughtaglimpseofherfaceandtheachetheretouchedtheagonyinsideme.Hershortnoseandhercheekbones,indeedherentireface,roseandfellwithherintenseconcentrationasshetriedtopokethethreadthroughtheneedleeye.She

wasleaningsofaroverthemachinethatitallbutsupportedherentirebody.Hunchedoverit,herpalenessshoneoutinthedaylightandtheexpressionofpainacrosshersmallfacewasunbearable.Lookinghardatme–orperhapsscrutinizingmywanderinggaze–her

mothersaidtome,WhenIfindthewalkingstickIwillsenditover.ItriedhardtoconcentratemythoughtsonwhatphrasesshouldbeutteredinthesecircumstancesbutIcouldn’tfindtheappropriatewords.Salimalookedtomelikeawomanwhotookchargeofmatters.Shewas

stillknownaroundhereastheBrideoftheFalaj.Herskinwasverylightandherfiguretendedtofullness,accentuatedbyaroundface,clear,smoothskin,anaquilinenoseandpiercingeyes.ItwasimmediatelyobviousthatMayyadidnottakeafterheratall.Icastalastglancealongthelongroom.Icouldnotbelievehowmuchpainwascracklingthroughtheair,generatedsimplybyMayya’sbeingthere.Haloesoflightembracedthatpresence.IfIweretojustputmyhandout,Ifelt,Icouldtouchthosematchlesshaloeseversogently.ButSalima,everhermother,suggestedstrongly,ifindirectly,thatitwastimeformetogohome.SoIslunkout.IleftthehouseofAzzannotreallyunderstandingwhathadjusttaken

placeorwhatmightbeexpectedtohappennextorinthefuture.AfewyearsbeforethisIhadbeguntofieldallusionstomy‘flight’fromgirls.Iwasn’tfleeing,thatwasn’titatall.ButIfeltnosenseofparticipation,ofpresence,inanyofit.Theracyjokesthemaidstoldandthewaytheirhandswanderednowandthenontomybodydidn’tmakemefeelparticularlyloved,andIcertainlydidn’tfeelanydesireorfondnesstowardsthem.ShannachasedmebehindthelemontreesinthefarmwhenIwasbarelyfourteenandfellonmewithoutanyadvancewarning.Feelingdizzyandslightlysick,Ipushedheraway,spatteringherwithmudasIdidso.ShesworeupanddownthatIwouldpaythepriceforit.Onlyafewdayslater,Zarifawastryingtopushmeintohavingsexwithoneoranotherdaughteroftheslavefamiliesthathadlonginhabitedmyfather’shousehold.Theseforaysweresuddenandrude,andcompletelywithoutemotion.Mostofthesegirlswereeithertooafraidtosayno,or

theywerebentonacquiringsomegifts.Thewholethingjustmademeturnmorestronglyinward.ItdroveZarifamad.ShehadcometoseemeandthestateshethoughtIwasinasaneasytargetformen’swaywarddesires,nottomentionthoseofboysolderthanme.Shewastryingtoprotectmewithwhateverwilesshehaduphersleeve,buthertrickswoundedmyyoungadolescence.WhenIsawMayya,Iwasbeyondallofthat.Iwasnineteenyearsold.

Evenso,Ididn’tunderstandwhathadjusthitmeonthatnight.Zarifadidunderstand.Irememberaparticularday,atdawn.I

rememberthefeelingoffullnessIhad–suchhappinessandpaintogether!Mayya’spalefacedistractedmeutterly,tookmefarawayfrommymundanedays,andfilledmelikenothingelsehadinmyshortexperienceoflife.Forthefirsttimeever,thatmorning,Ifoundmyselfpacingthroughourspacioushomewithitslargeroomsthathadaccumulatedovertime,onebuiltupagainstanother,andeachoneopeningoutontothenext.YetIfeltliketheplacewasn’tbigenoughforme.IfeltIwascarryingsomethingthatwasbothheavyandprecious,butatthesametimeIthoughtmightjustbeabletotakeoffandfly,becauseIfeltsoutterlylightinmyskin.Thenightbefore–onceImadecertainthatmyfatherwasasleep–I

hadsnuckouttotheeasterncourtyardtositundertheenormousacaciatreewhereIcouldgivemyselfuptothebeautifulwailingofSuwayd’soudandhiswelcomecompany.ThemoreIaskedSuwayd,Howdidyoudoit,howdidyougetthisoud?theharderhelaughed.Hey,thesamewayonegetsone’schildren,Shaykh–it’sallablessingandagiftfromAllah!Formypart,Suwayd’swordsseemedtoexpressperfectlymy

acquisitionofthelightthatbrokeupthedarknessofmydays,thatgentlefiercelight.Wasthiswhatpeoplecalledlove?Agift,liketheblessedlivelihoodsGodgrantstous.Now,Iwalkedoutofourhouse,awayfromitsornatelydecoratedreceptionrooms,andIbreathedinthebluedawn.Ipacedthelengthoftheeasterncourtyard,borderedbyarowoflemonandmangotreespunctuatedbyasinglewildnativerosebush.IfeltsuchayearningtosinginexactlythewaySuwaydhadsungthenightbefore

butIcouldn’tregulatethequaveringrhythmsofmyvoice,soinsteadIfloatedinthefragrancesoflemonandrose.Somewhereoutherehadgrownthebasilbushthatmymotherhaduprooted,andsoithadkilledher;still,evennow,Icouldalmostsmellitsfragrance.WouldmymotherhavelikedMayya?Mightsheevenhavebeenfondofher?Orwouldshehaveexclaimed,asmyfatherwouldonalateroccasion,Oh,butIthoughthernamewasKhawla!No,Father,Isaidtohim.Khawlaisheryoungersister.Mayyaisthe

olderone.Theolderone?hemuttered.Youmeanthatskinnydarkone?Didn’t

youseeKhawla?Boy,what’shappenedtoyoureyesight,can’tyoutelltheprettysisterfromtheothers?Anyway,thisMayyayoutalkaboutisolderthanyou.IrememberAzzan,herfather,paradingheraroundonthefeastdayonce,andthelittlegirlwasalreadywalking.Andthat’swhenyourmotherwaspregnantwithyou.MyvoicewashoarseasItriedtoanswer.Onlyayearandeightmonths,

Papa!Hewavedhiscanearound,thecanehehadneveronceleftbehindatAzzan’shouse.AfewdayslaterIwrotealettertomyfather.Iopeneditinthe

customaryway:InthenameofGod...followedbytheusualstuff:Tomydear,esteemedandhonourablefather...andIroundeditoffwithmysignature:Yourservantandsonwhohumblyawaitsyourkindness,Abdallah.BynowIhaveforgottenexactlywhatthatlettersaid.Myaunt–hissister–mayhaveintercededonmybehalf,too,andIknowforcertainthatZarifaconfrontedhimwithmyinhibitionsandmyshamefacedattitudetogirlswhichinherviewwerecompletelyunwarranted.Afewdayslater,hesummonedmeintohispresence.HetoldmethathewouldbetrothMayyatomeandwouldpayheradowryoftwothousandriyals.Hewouldbuildanewsetofroomsontotheeasterncourtyard,withamodernbathroom.Iwouldliveinthisannexewithmybride.ThatdawnIwalkedbarefootacrossthepebbles,unawarethenthat

mostofthiscourtyardwoulddisappear,swallowedupbythepromisedmaritalabode.Ifollowedthelineofthetreesandturnedintothenarrow

passagewaytothewesterncourtyardwhichwascarpetedinsandratherthansoftpebblesandseemedsmallerthanitseasterncounterpart.Inallofal-AwafiourswastheonlyhouseIhadeverseenthathadtwoopencourtyardssurroundingit,ontwoofitsfoursides.WasthatwhythetownspeoplehadnamedittheBigHouse?Iwondered.TheBigHouseistheplaceIinhabitwithmyfather,wheresometimes

wearevisitedbymyaunt–hissister–andwithus,inoneofitsmanyadded-onrooms,liveZarifaandSanjar,andHabibbeforehefled.Outsidethehouse,butnotfarawayfromit,inverysmallhutsliveSuwaydandhisbrotherZaatar,andZayd–beforehedrownedintheflashflood–withhiswifeMasoudaandtheirdaughterShanna,plusHafizaandhermotherSaadaandherthreedaughterswhosepaternallineageisnotknown.Allofthemslaves,oratleastsomehowmyfather’sinheritedproperty.TheBigHouse,spaciousasitwas,hardlyseemedtohaveanyempty

spaces.Guestsofvariousagesandoriginswerealwaysarrivingandoftentheystayedon.Abundledcordofwoodtothesideofthewesterncourtyardandthosehugeblackcookingpotssittingoutreadyforuse,wereafamiliarsight.ZarifaandHafizararelycookedinthehouse’ssmallinsidekitchen,fortheconstantmealsthathadtobepreparedforlargenumbersdemandedtheuseofcauldronstoobigforthatnarrowindoorcookingspace.Similarly,theritualslaughter,whichwasgenerallyundertakenbySuwaydandZaatar,tookplacehere:thecarcasseswerehungandskinnedinthewesterncourtyardsotheycouldbecookedimmediatelyoveranalready-litfireintheguest-kitchenwhereZarifabakedbreadtoo.Zarifasworetherewasnocomparisonbetweenmeatroastedover‘realfire’andmeatstewedinpots,whichshecalled‘gas-firemeat’.OnthatdawnIwaspackedtightlywiththoughts,hopesandworries,

andatthesametimeIfeltbuoyantandfestive.Eventhesootfromthecookingfirethatblackenedthewallsoftheoutsidekitchen–justthreewallsandroofingheldupbywoodstakes–Ididn’tfindugly.Everythingwasbeautiful:thesand,thepots,thearomaofthebakingflatbreadrising

frominsidethekitchenandfloatingtowardthecourtyard.Iwentintothebareshelteroftheopenkitchen,doorlesstoallowmoreroomforthehugepots.IfoundZarifainthere,perchedontwoNidopowderedmilkcans,herbodyspillingoverthemasshebentoverthehotbakingbrick,poundingoutthedough,stretchingitacrossthesurfaceandsecondslaterdraggingitbackupoffthebrickwithwondrousskill.Shedidn’teventurnaroundasshesaid,Goodmorning,Abdallah,myboy.OrshouldIsay,Yahababi,Milord,sinceitseemsyou’vebecomequitethebigmannow!Zarifaknew,then.Ididn’tsayanything.HadsheseenMayya’sname

scratchedontothetreetrunksandscrawledacrossthepagesinmynotebooks?ButZarifacouldn’tread!Howdidyouknow,Zarifa?Shecackled,thesoundloudinthatquietearlymorning.Sonny,asthe

proverb-makersays:Ahumanhandspreadwidecan’tblockthesunoutside.SoIgotmarried,yousee,mykindandpleasantairhostess,whose

artificialsmilemakesmefeelsuchpityforyou.IdislikefakesmilesasstronglyasIdolaughter.Mayya–that’smywife,mydearhostess–didnotlaughonherweddingday.Shedidn’tevensmile.

Motherhood

Justbeforedawn,Mayyawassittinguponherbedding,thenursingbabyinherlap.Hernewborndaughterhadfinallystoppedwailinganddroppedofftosleep.Mayyatippedhertiredachingheadbackagainstthewall.Shesensed,morethanshesaw,thedark,shinyoilyblue-greencolouronthewalls,givingoffahardlightthathurthereyes.Closingthem,shecouldseethematernitywingattheSaadaHospital,thesaltandoilplacedonthenewborn’sbellybutton,thewifeofAbdallah’suncleinWadiAday.Thewomenvisitingeverymorning,afternoon,andevening,freshchickenbroth,Zarifa’ssalivaassheblewintothefaceofthebabygirlandrepeatedhalf-intelligiblesupplicationstotheDivineforherprotection,thatenormoussilverringZarifawore,thewhiteswaddling,thenewborn’stinyredtongueandherfingernailswhichwerenotallowedtobeclippedlestshebecomeathiefinherfuturelife.Mayyaopenedhereyesandstudiedherdaughter.Herbodywas

scrawnierthanthebodiesofmostnewbornsandherscreamwasparticularlysharp.Mayyapassedherhandoverthebaby’sthinlayerofblackhair.Shecouldnotsuppresstheincredulityshefelt.Sothisismotherhoodthen?Everyday,Asmawouldaskher,Sowhatdoesitfeellike,motherhood?

Isitthegreatestfeelingintheworld?Mayyawouldn’tanswer.Allshefeltwasexhaustion,painsinherbackandbelly,andanurgentneedtobathe.Heritchyscalp,whichmadeherwanttoconstantlyrubherfingersintoherhair,wassimplynolongerbearable.Finallyhermotherpermittedhertohaveaquickbathbutonlyonconditionthatthewaterdidn’ttouchherhair.Afterall,coldsstalkedbrand-newmothers,Salimawouldremindher.Andiftheirhuntwassuccessful,well,weallknowthatfeverisfataltonewmothers...Meanwhile,tiresomeAsmawentonaskingabout

motherhoodandwhatshecalledthewarmintimacyofnursing!Butallthatnursingmeant,asfarasMayyacouldsee,wasnosleepallnightlongandaconstantstrugglewiththebabytogethertoopenhermouth,nottomentionthebackpainshehadaftersittinginthesamepositionforsomanyhours.Mayyadidn’tsayanyofthistoAsma,though.Listeningtohersisterkeptheroccupied,andshedidn’thavetosayanythingaslongasAsmawaschatteringon.Mayyaconsideredsilencetobethegreatestofhumanacts,thesumof

perfection.Whenyouwereutterlyquietandstillyouwerelikeliesttohearaccuratelywhatothersweresaying.AndwheneverMayyafeltboredwiththeirwordsshelistenedtoherselfinthebubbleofsilenceshehadcreatedaroundher.Ifshesaidnothing,thennothingcouldcauseherpain.Mostofthetime,shehadnothingtosay.Andthereweremomentswhenshemighthavesomethingtosaybutknewshedidn’twanttospeak.Themuezzin’swifeapprovedandevenpronouncedablessingoverMayya’ssilence.OntheDayofJudgementitwillbeknownthatyourtonguehascreatednocomplaintagainstyou.Oncethischildofherswasmucholder,afterSalimandMuhammad

hadarrivedintheworldaswell,Mayyamadeanotherdiscovery:sleep.Sleep!Shewouldsleepandsleep,andaslongasshestayedasleepnothingcouldharmher.Shecametorealisethatsleepwasanevengreatermiraclethansilence,sincewhenshesleptshedidnotevenhavetohearwhatothersweresaying.Asleep,shewouldnotbespeaking,norwouldothersspeaktoher.Inhersleepshesawnothing,notevendreams.Enteringtherealmofsleepmeantcomingintoaplaceofnoresponsibilitieswhereshefeltnothing,andthethingsshehadanxiouslyneededtoholdontowhileawakefellaway.TherepeatednervoustwitchesofMuhammad’shands;thesoundsofmortalcombatandtinnyshoutsofvictoryinthevideogame;London’swhitecoat,sobigitaccentuatedherextremethinness;thelouddripandsplatofwaterdropsfromthetapontothedirtydishesandutensilspiledupinthesink;theIndonesianservant’sdubioushandgestures;thesurreptitiousstaresofthedriverlookingatherinthecar’sfrontmirror;Abdallah’sunending

dialogueswithLondonandhisquarrelswithSalim.Whensheslept,shefellintoacomfortablevoidwhichsentherdownwardssoftlyandgraduallytowheretherewasnolongeranything.Bestofallwasthatnodreamspassedacrosshervision–nonightmares,noimages,novoices,nothing.Shesavouredherenjoyablecoma,aplaceshecouldgowhereshehadnothingtoconfront.Sleepwasheronlyparadise.Itwasherultimateweaponagainstthepoundinganxietyofherexistence.Now,sittinguponherbedding,Mayyaheardthemuezzin’svoice.She

founditcomfortinginthedawnsilence.Lifeappearedtohersharplydividedintwoparts,likenightandday:whatwelive,andwhatlivesinsideofus.Shedozedoff,wakinguptothesoundofherfatheropeningthedoor,havingjustreturnedfromthemosque.Hesquattednexttoherandtookthebabyfromherlap.Masha’allah,yourdaughteristheverypictureofyou,Mayya!Shesmiled,seeingthetracesofwaterfromhisablutionsclingingtohischin,andthoughtabouthowhehadnochoicebuttospendmostofhistimeoutsidethehouseuntilshewouldhavecompletedherfortydaysofconfinement,whenthewomenwhoconstantlycameandwentwouldfinallydepart.Heappeareddelightedwiththegirl.HehadalreadytoldMayyathatthebaby’stinybodyandsparsehairremindedhimofherbrotherHamadasanewborn.Thedawnlightedgedintotheroom,illuminatingitlittlebylittle,asMayyaandherfathergazedatthisnewpersonwithoutexchanginganymorewords.Theroosterwascrowingandshecouldheartherustlingofthenabktreeoutsidethewindow.Azzanreturnedthebabytoherbed.Iswear,Mayya,shereallydoeslooklikeHamad!Whenhewasbornhewassotiny,onlyatouchlargerthanthepalmofahand.Wesaidhewouldn’tlivebuthedid.Andthen,oncehewasfillingoureyeswithhisbounce,andgivingussomuchjoy,heleftus.Mayyacouldremembereverything.Shehadbeentenwhenit

happened.Hamadwastwoyearsyounger.Hetookoffintothefarmlandsonhissteed,whichwasnothingmorethanadrydate-palmcluster,alimbfallenfromatree,hislittle-boylocksofhairrifflinginthebreezeandthesilveramuletaroundhisneck.Togethertheywouldslipaway

fromQur’anschool.Mayyaneversucceededinmountingthatstallion,thoughshedidtrytogetitawayfromhim.Thedate-palmbranchcouldripadishdashatoshreds.Butsinceshewasagirl,shecouldn’tshimmyherdishdashaupherbodyandtieitaroundhermiddleasHamaddidhis.Norcouldshetakeitoffashesometimesdid.TheywouldstealgreenmangoesfromMerchantSulayman’sorchardandcollectunripedatesfrombeneaththepalmtrees.ThenHamadleftthem.Justlikethat,suddenly.Mayyaremembered

peoplecomingtooffercondolencesandmournwiththem;sherememberedthetearsandthesilveramulet.Hermotherwaskeentoretrievehisclothesandtheamulet.NoonecaredaboutHamad’smount.Thesteedremainedwhereitwas,athindrybodysplayedapartforMayyatosee,everytimeshestaredatthebaseofthecourtyardwall.Whenherfatherlefttheroomthenewbornbegantocry.Mayyahugged

herclose.Didherdaughterreallylooklikeher?Twenty-threeyearslaterwhenshewouldsmashherdaughter’smobile

phonetobitsinangerbeforeslappingheracrosstheface,theonlyremainingtracesofresemblanceweretheirbrownskinandwiryframes.Londonwouldbetallerthanhermother,agood-lookingyoungwoman,andsuchatalkerthatitwouldn’tbesurprisingifshewerenicknamedChatterbox.Thisroomwouldhavebecometherefugeofhergrandfather,anoldmaninhissixties.Bythen,theoilyblue-green,alreadyfaded,wouldhavebeencoveredwhentheroomwasrepaintedawaterylightblue.Againstthewallwouldsitmodernwoodwardrobesinsteadofhermandus,thebeautifuloldgilt-edgedwoodchest,whileasofaupholsteredinvelvetwouldhavetakentheplaceoftheIndiansequinedcushions.TheseamwherewallsandceilingjoinedwouldbehiddenbeneathawhitestripofplasterdécorandLondon,whonolongerresembledhermotherinmuchofanything,wouldnotenterthisroom,orthehousearoundit.Notever.That’showafraidshewasofhergrandmother.Butbythen,thisgrandmotherwouldhavetakenrefugeinanotherroomtowhichhermandus-chestshadbeenremovedalongwithsomefancypillowscushions,allwedgedalongsidethenew,modern-stylewood-framebed

anditsaccompanyingsuiteoffurniture.Bythen,thisgrandmotherofherswasswearingoutloudthatshewouldslithergranddaughter’sthroatiftherebelliousgirlreallydidmarrythepeasant’sson.Howcouldshepossiblymarrytheissueofthemanwhohadthreshedthefamily’sgrain?

Abdallah

Thecloudstodayareverythick,impenetrable.Iliketheideaofbeingsohighthatgravitylosesitspoweroverme,asIstaredownattheclouds.IcanrememberhowsurprisedIwastolearnthatcloudsarenotsubstantialenoughtobearaperson’sweight.UstazMamduhexplodedinlaughterwhenherealisedhowdeludedIwas.Sowhodoyouthinkare,oryou’llbe,whenyougrowup?Abigimportantmanwhotakesoffintotheairandsitsontopoftheclouds?Thosecloudsarelikesmoke,youidiot!Onlyair.Amonthaftershegraduated,Londonsaidtome,Iloveclouds,Papa!

WhenIwaslittleIusedtodreamIhadwings,likethegirlintheTVRamadanRiddlesshow,andIcouldflyupthereandsitontopoftheclouds.Ididnottellherthatthishadbeenmydreamtoo.Ididn’tgetachance.

Weweresittinginhernewcar.Shewasdrivingandtalkingincessantly.Suddenlysheasked,HowaboutwegodowntotheshoreatSib?TherenovationsalongtheseafrontatSibhadbeencompletedbynow,

withanewcoastroadextendingaboutfourkilometresalongthatstretchofcoastline.Everysooftentherewasastylishlongasphaltparkingareathatalloweddriverstopause,alongsidepavedwalkwayswithfancyentrelacforpedestrians,andlamppoststhatwereminiaturecopiesofthetoweringBurjal-ArabinDubai.LongbeforetheserenovationswerebegunIusedtogotoSibwithmyfather,onhisperiodicvisitstothefishermenthere.Hewastryingtomakeagreementswiththemtobuytheirhouseswhichoverlookedtheseacoast.Hewantedtoconverttheareaintoacommercialcomplex.HewasconvincedthattheSabcoandOkayCentremallsandeventheal-HarthiCentrewhichopenedduringhisfinalillness,weretoofarawayforwould-becustomerswholivedin

theSibarea.Butthebuyingpowerhereisweak,Father,Iwouldexclaim.Wearenot

inDubai.Youdon’tunderstandanythingaboutcommerce!wouldcomehis

response.We’llstartwiththosefishermen,andthenyou’llsee.Ourexcursionsended,asdidtalkoftheproject,whenwelearnedthat

theMinistryofHousinghadprohibitedsuchcommercialventuresanywherealongtheseafront.WewouldbeinFather’swhiteMercedes,withmeatthewheel.Wedidn’thaveanythingtosaytoeachother,unlesshewantedtobringupsomeissueconcerninghisbusiness,ortomoanhowsadhewasthatitwouldallverylikelybelostafterhispassinganyway,aslongashisprogenyconsistedofthelikesofme‘whodoesn’tappreciatethevalueofapenny’.OneweekafterhisdeathIpresentedmydocumentstojointhedistancelearningprogrammeatoneoftheuniversitiesinBeirut.TheideawasthatIwouldtraveltheretwiceayearfortheexaminations,untilIgraduatedwithaBAinBusinessManagement.Itdoesn’treallymattertomenow,Father,thatyouneversawmydiploma.Afterall,youdidn’thaveanydesiretoseeit.Butwhatdidthatmandesire?Youaremyonlyson,hewouldsay.Iwantyoutobeaman...thebestsortofman.AftermymarriageIspenttenyearsontheroad:backandforth

betweenMuscatandal-Awafi.HerefusedtoletusmovetoMuscat,forthenwhowouldkeeptheBigHousealive?Whowouldpreserveitasahome?Whowouldreceivetheguests?Whowouldpresideoverthosesociablegatheringsthatbroughtmentogethereveryevening?Hewouldnothearofit.No,no,absolutelynot!WewoulddoourbusinessinMuscat–onedaythere,orperhapstwo–andthenwe’dbebackinal-Awafi.Thatwasourhometown,notMuscat.Afteranothertenyears,mysonSalimsaid,ButMuscatisourhometownnotal-Awafi.Whycan’twespendallofourschoolholidaysandthebigfeastdayshereinMuscat?AtfirstLondonobjectedtothestreetsinthecapitalcitythatshesaid

weredesignedonlyfor‘cars’feet’.Thensheadaptedherself,andsheevencametolikethelongstretchofpavedseasidecorniche.Butshehada

responseforSalim:Whatthereisinal-Awafithatisn’tinMuscatisthegraveyard.MostpeoplewholiveinMuscataren’tburiedinMuscat.They’reburiedintheirhomevillages.OnthiseveningshestoppedhercaratoneoftheCornicheparking

areasalongtheSibshoreline.Sheputoutthelightsandthensheburstintosobs.Ihadnotseenhercryevenonce,sinceherbabyhood,untiltheyearjustpast,onthatdaywhenhermotherhitherandbrokehermobilephone.Honey,whatisit?What’swrong?IsitHanan?Shewillrecover,my

dear.She’llbeallright.Londonshookherhead.It’snotHanan.Eventhough,youknow,her

familyrefusedtogotocourtabouttherapebecausetheywereafraidofthescandal,andshegaveintothem.Shetuggedherembroidery-edgedabayacloseraroundherbodyand

slouchedoverthesteeringwheel.AhmadandIusedtocomehere,shesaid.Hewouldtellme,Don’tturnaround,anddon’tgetoutofthecar,thereareyoungguysrunningaroundinshortshere,don’topenthewindowanddon’tlookout.Iwouldsay,Ahmad,you’remylove,Idon’tseeanyonebutyou!Hewouldlaugh,Papa,andhe’dsay,Whydon’tyouseeanyoneelse?Areyoublindorsomething?Whenthisangeroverwhelmsme,asit’sbeginningtodorightnow,

amidstalltheseclouds,Idon’tknowwhattodowithallofit.Itwon’tquit,andIcan’tfindanywindowforittoescapethrough.Thisanger–thisragethatcomeseverytimeIpictureherfaceasshetalked,sittingthereinthecar.Thissingle,fierceemotionstifleseverythingelse,evenmybreathing.Ihaveneverfeltsohelplessinfrontofmyangeraswhenmydaughterwascrying,andthenconfessing.Igaveintohim,shegaspedbetweenhersobs,becauseIwasafraidoffailure.Ifeltthesamehelplessangerwhenthenursetookoutthetubesfrom

myfather’sbody,herwayofannouncinghewasdead.Thisangerofminepursuesmetotheedge,whereI’mscreamingwithoutmakingtheslightestsound,cryingwithoutanytears.Butit’sanangerthatcarriesnoforce.Allitaccomplishesisthatitkeepsmefromtakingabreath.

Ididn’tfeelangrywhenIlearned,longaftertheevent,thatZarifahaddied.Ijustfeltasthoughtheearthhadgivenmeaviolentshaking.Suddenly,Iwasthatlonechildofsolongago,whomSanjarandMarhunforcedtostealtherifleandthendeprivedofeatinganymagpies.IfeltlikemyfatherwasgoingtopunishmeforleavingZarifatodiefarawayandalone.Hewouldpunishme,lowermeintothewelltrussedupinthepalm-frondrope.Ifeltherloudringinglaughtervibratingthroughmybody,sendingmywholebodyintoshuddersinthedawn.Again,Iheardherwhispering.Yourmotherdidnotdie,myboy,no,Abdullah.Yourmotherisalive.Thejinndjinnguardingthebasilbush–theytookheraway,butsheisalive.Iopenedallthewindowsinthenewcarandlistenedtothesoundof

thewavesasifthatwouldcoverupthesoundofmydaughter’scrying.Whydidn’tyoutellmefromthestart?Whydidyouwaitayear?Awholeyear!Shemoaned.Icouldn’t...Imean,Ichosehim.Everyoneofyou

rejectedmychoice,andsoIinsisted.WhatelsecouldIdo,afterthat?AndIwashappyinthebeginning.SoIjusttriedtoignoreit.AndhowcouldIpossiblyconfesstomymotherthatIwaswrong?WhatwouldIsaytoyou,toanyofyou?Soyouwaiteduntilheactuallybeatyou.Thatwaswhatittookforyou

tosayanything?HersobbinggotlouderandIrememberedhermother’swailing.He

beatsher?Shesaidhebeatsher?Thepeasant’ssonbeatsmydaughter,mine?Andwhatkindofmanbeatshiswife?Inallofal-AwafiIhaveneverheardofanyonebeatinghiswifeexceptforthatolddrunkFurayh.Heusedtocomehomesousedandthrowuponher,andthenhewouldstarthittingher.Andsothiseducated‘dokhtoor’–ashecallshimself,hah–isjustanotherversionofFurayhthedrunk?Hebeatsher?Thepeasant’ssonbeatsmygirl?Nooneeverputhishandonmeandnooneputhishandonmymotherormysisters,andnowthisdogcomesandbeatsmylittlegirl?Whatascandalwemustlookamongstallthetribes,everyclan,ourown,outintheopen.Themanourdaughterisalready

legallymarriedto,evenif,thanktheLord,theyhaven’tmovedintogether,andFurayhthedrunk–they’recutfromthesamecloth?ByGod,ifonlyhehadneverseteyesonher!ByGod,he’sdivorcinghertodayandhe’dbetterdoitfast.Hedivorcedher.Wepaidhimthedowryandsomydaughtergot

herselfoutofthatmarriageandgotherfreedom.London,Isaidtoher,Todayyouarefree.Youareasuccessful

physicianandyouhaveyourfreedomandagoodsociallifeandhedoesn’tdeserveevenastraythought.Itwasjustabadexperience,it’sover,andthat’sthat.Shebreathedintheseaairandlefthertearsrollingdownhercheeks.

You’reright,Father.Justabadexperience.Theteenagerslaughandshoutandopentheircansofcola,thesea

breezegrowscolder,andIdriveonthewaybacktoal-Khuwayr,mutteringtomyself.Godbepraisedthattheactualweddinghadnotyethappenedandthewholethingcametoanendwhentheywerestillonlyboundbyanuptialcontract.

Zarifa

ZarifamadeupanenormoustraywithsamplesofallthedishesthathadbeenpreparedforMayyawhilesherecoveredfromLondon’sbirth.Aplateofriceandchickencookedinclovesandsamna;thatspecialflatbreadwithhoney;atowerofapples,orangesandbananas,andaladlefulofjelly-sweets.Zarifacoveredthetray,balanceditonherhead,andleftSalima’shouse.ShecrossedtheFalaj,themaincanal,andthenshepassedthehouses,thefortress-likecomplexwhereShaykhSaidandhisfamilyhadlivedforever,theschool,andHamdan’sshopbeforeherpathbroughthertothefarms.Inthepast,al-Awafi’shomesemptiedcompletelyonsummerdays,aseveryone,youngandold,convergedonthefarmers’fieldsinflightfromtheheat,returninghomeonlywhenthesoftnight-timebreezeswaftedthemthere.Butbythistime–theearlyyearsofthe1980s–therewasnoneedforthisdailyexodus.Electricfans,evenairconditionersinsomeofthehouses,putanendtotheseexcursions.Those‘horridnew-fangledhereticalairconditioners’,asZarifacalledthem.Notonceliftingherhandtosteadytheheavytrayonherhead,Zarifa

continuedonherway,reachingthebare,uncultivatedgroundbeyondthefarms.Thedesertopenedoutbeforeherasshewalkedon.Shewasdampwithsweatbutitwasonlyafewmomentsbeforeshearrivedandstopped,breathingwithrelief.Atthefootofthefamiliarclusterofwhiteboulders,Zarifaloweredthetrayandthenkneltdownbesideit,wipingawayhersweatwiththeedgeofherwrap.Herloud,roughvoicesailedacrosstherocks.YaBaqii-ooo!Hereisyourfood,mayyougiveusleavetohaveourfood,thisisyourshareandsoyoucanleaveoursharetous.Hereitis,Baqiia,here’syourkhiratha,look,thespecialfoodofMayya,daughterofSalima,mayyouleaveherinpeace,inherstateofconfinementasshe

heals...mayyounotstrikeherdownorharmthenewborngirl.Zarifagotbackuponherfeetandbeganthereturnjourneytoal-Awafi.

Onlytwodaysbefore,shehadundertakenthisverysameerrandtodeflectevil,butthattimetowarditawayfromthewifeofherson,alsorecoveringfromchildbirthandfromherownnewgranddaughter.Timeaftertimeshehadmadethesameexcursion.Theywerealwayssuccessful,theseofferingsofhers.ThejinniBaqiiahadnevergrownangry,notonceoverthelongperiodthatZarifahaddedicatedherselftothejinni’sservice,norintheeraofhermotherbeforeher.Well,exceptthatonetime,whensomeonebewitchedUmmAbdallahsomehowwhileinherconfinement.BeforeZarifa,hermotherhadshoulderedthisdutyandbeforethatithadbeenhergrandmother’stask.AllofthemknewthemostparticularsecretsaboutBaqiia,thejinniwomanwhospecialisedinstalkinganywomanrecoveringfromchildbirthwhodidnotfeedherfromherownspecialfood.PoorwretchedUmmAbdallah,Zarifamuttered.MayGodshowherHismercy,poorsimplewoman,shewasonlymindingherownbusiness.Butpeopledon’tshowanymercy,andthisboyofhers...well,thisAbdallah,amanwho’snotinthecaravannorinthewarringband,astheproverb-makersays.Whatauselessfellow,noonelistenstohim.Whatkindofmanletshiswifegivehisdaughterthisstrangename?ButhowcanIsayanything?Theproverb-makersaid:Whatyoucriticizeothersfor,you’llfindyou’vegotitinspades.AndmysonSanjar–whonamedhisdaughter,now?ByGod,mennolongerhaveanysayinthings.NotallmenareSulayman!Aye,wAllahi!Therejustaren’tanyMerchantSulaymansanymore.NoShaykhSaids,either.GodprotectyouwithHismercy,Mama!Whereareyou?Cometome,comebacktoyourdaughterandjustseewhattheworldhasbecome.Zarifa’smother!PeoplehadnicknamedherKhayzuran,forlikeareed

ofbambooshewastallandgracefullyslender.HerrealnamewasAnkabuta:Spider-Girl.Herfatherhadbeenfedupwithhiswife’sconstantpregnanciesandtheterribleproblemoffindingyetanothername.Andthenameofababybornintoaslavefamilymustnever,everechothenamesofthemasters.Whenthetimecame,Spider-Girlwasthe

onlynamehehadinmind,andsoitwas.BeforeshewasevenfifteenAnkabutahadbecomeanominouslytelling

lessonforeveryslavewoman–andeveryfreewomantoo,forthatmatter–whomighthavegivenevenapassingthoughttorefusingherhusband’sneeds.ShaykhSaidimprisonedherinanancientcellinthefortresswhensherefusedtosleepwithhisslaveNasib,towhomtheShaykhhadmarriedheroff.Ankabutalanguishedinthatcellformonths.Onceadayherfoodarrivedandonceanightherhusbandarrived.Peoplehadgrownverytiredofhearingherscreamandfinallyshewasfreed.MaybeitwasbecauseNasibhadbeendeclaringhowsickhewasofalwayshavingtotieherlimbstotherustingironbedpostsandstuffinghermouthwithhisturban-cloth,justtogethishusbandlyrights.Ankabutacameoutofprisonpregnantwithheronlydaughter.Shewas

alonewhenthebabycame,andaftertyingthecordAnkabutadecidedtobecomeamidwife,competingwithSabeekahwhospecialisedinbirthingforthedaughtersofshaykhs.Peopleinal-Awafihadn’trealisedthatAnkabuta’sharddarkfaceconcealedanawesomeandvoraciousappetiteforliving,thoughsomedidhaveaninklingthatthiswomanwhoinclinedtosilenceandself-concealmentwasinfactthegreatMamawhopresidedoverthezarexorcisms,onceamonthinthedesertoutbeyondthefortressandthefarmsthatmarkedal-Awafi’souteredges.

Abdallah

Thankyou,mybright-facedairhostess.TheorangecakeistrulydeliciousevenifIwouldhavepreferredourOmanijelliesoveranyofthethingsyoucallhalvehor–asLondonwouldsayinemphaticEnglish,sweeeeets.Inthefestivalseasonsorwhenmyfather’slargehousewasfilledwithguests,IwouldalwayswrapupabigportionofbeautifullygreasydarkhilwainapagetornfrommyschoolnotebookandcarryittoUstazMamduh.ThereweremanytimeswhenIdidn’tevengettotastethesespecialsweetsmyself.Insociablegatheringstheolderandgrandermenalwaysatefirst.Itwasinappropriateforayoungonelikemyselftoshowanyappetiteortocompetewiththeelders,andoftenthesweetsontheirtraywerewhiskedawaytoorapidlyforlittlehandslikeminetohaveachance.Wheneveritcametothat,myhopeswouldcompletelyvanish,forIknewthatmyauntwouldtakechargeandlockitallawayinthestoreroom,andIwouldn’thavethecouragetoaskforany.ButthenZarifaremembersaboutUstazMamduhand,beforeanyone

cannotice,spiritsawayabigchunkforhissake.Orforthesakeofthediploma.Justseeingthegreencoverofmydiplomatoldheritwassomethingtocelebrateeventhoughshedidn’tunderstandasinglewordofwhatwaswritteninside.OnceinawhileIamenormouslylucky,securingtwomassivechunksof

it.OneIwrapupforUstazMamduhandtheotherIsplitwithManeenwhohasalreadycaughtawhiffofitslightsaffronsmelleventhoughIalwaystrymyhardesttokeeptheveryscentofitunderwraps.Maneenisalwaysperchedonalargerockinfrontoftheopeningtohismudhouse,whichsitssquarelyontherouteIhavetotaketoschool.Notacreaturecanpassinfrontofhimwithouthearingthatvoice.Maneenisinbadshape,hemoans.GiveManeenafewgrainsofrice,justalittlehandful!

Passhimabiteofsomethingsweet!ImovefromoneschoolgradetothenextbutManeenneverchangeshisspot,asifheandtherockonwhichhesitswerecreatedasonepiece,nevertochange,justastheworn-outrobehewearsneverchanges.Theonlythingthatchangesisthathediscoversmulberrycordial.Headdsalinetohissingsongcall:GivehimsomeVimtotowethisthroat!Maneen’ssonZayidisinmyclassatschoolbutIneverseeZayidwith

hisfather.Heisalwaysatschoolorplayingwiththeladsintheneighbourhood.PeoplesayhismotherranoffwithanothermanwhenZayidwasstillanursingbabyandsoallthewomenintheneighbourhoodpitchedin,treatinghimwithfondnessandtakingcareofhisneedsuntilhewasoldenoughtocareforhimself.Zayidneverlaughed,andwhenweracedhealwaysgotthebetterofalltheotherboys.Ourracesstartedwherethecanalbeginsandendedatthefurthestedgeofal-Awafi’sfarms,andZayidwasalwaysahead.WheneverManeencatchessightofmeheratchetsupthemusicalityof

hisfamiliarcall.Heclapshishandstogetherasheasksme.Soooo,Abdallah?How’syourfather?WhatlittletriflehaveyoubroughtpoorManeentoday?IfmypocketsareemptyIrespondbysnappingathim.Maneen,Iknow

verywellthattheMinistryofWelfaregivesyouthirtyriyals!ThenItakemyselfoff,headingatafastcliptowardstheschoolbuilding.ButifI’vebeenluckywithmyshareofsweetsIsitdownwithhimonhisrockandweeatthelusciousjelly-likechunktogether.Hismouthcrammedwithjelly-sweets,chuckles,andsaliva,ManeenrepeatsthesameoldstoryIhaveheardathousandtimes.Heyyy,Abbuuud...ablessedboyjustlikeyourpapa!Hooo,Abbuud,myman,intheyearofthehorriblerains.Kharsa!Itwasadisasterforsure.Thewatercamedownhardfortenwholedays,thishouseofminewentmeltingintothegroundandeventhehomesofthebigfolkleakedwateruntiltheirroofsfellin.Weweredyingofhunger,myboy,theraincompletelydestroyedallthedates.Ruined.Allofourmatsandfurnishingsandclothingwerewetthroughandnoonecouldfindanythingtoeat–nothingtobuy,nothingtosell–Heyyyy,

Abbuud,youcamealongineasytimes,timesofplenty.You’veneverseenrealhunger.Theyearofthekharsaal-Awafiwasafloat,itwasjustonebigmessofgullies.ShaykhSaidclosedhimselfupinthatfortressofhisandhesaidtoeveryone,Ihavenothingleft.Allmydateshavebeenruinedbythewater,hesaid,andthefightingbetweenthetribestookeverythingIowned.Butyourfather,hewasadifferentstory,blesstheman!Heopenedhis

home,heputuptentsforpeopleinhisowncourtyard.Theyateanddrankuntileverycupboarddoorinthekitchenandstoreroomwasflungwideopenandpeoplecouldseewiththeirowneyesthattherewasnothingmorethere.Ifithadn’tbeenforyourfatherandShaykhMasuud–God’smercyonthelateShaykhMasuud,myboy–wewouldhavediedofstarvation.Theyearofthedisaster,Abbuud–aye,andtodayallisfinewithus,justsee!Theworld,myson,whataworld!So,Abbud–now,youdon’thaveanyVimtoforpoorManeen?Weweregrowingup.Zayidnolongeryankedatthegirls’braids

withoutwarningwhenwewereplayinghide-and-seek,dividingourselvesintotwogroups,boysagainstgirls.SanjarnolongerreactedbydivingforZayid,throwinghimtothegroundandnearlythrottlinghim.WegrewupandZayidwentintothearmy.InafewyearsManeen’scrumblingmudbrickhousedisappearedfromtheroadsidetobereplacedbyareinforcedconcretehome,threebedroomsandasittingroom.PeoplesaidthatZayidhadmoveduprapidlythroughtheranksandwasmuchapprovedofbytheseniorstaff.Hecamebacktoal-Awafiinfrequentlynow,inhisredCamry.Herebuiltthehouseandfilleditwithlargesacksofriceandsugar,andsealedtinsofthebestlocalsweets,theonesfromBarka.Whenhedidshowup,hewasalwaysinuniformandeveryoneknewhewasbringingcratesoffruitandbottlesofVimto.Oftenhehadagangofworkersintow,tobuildanotheradditionortoreplacethewooddoorwithafancierone.ButManeen,hiseyesightfadedandhishairgonecompletelywhite,didnotabandonthesmallrockonwhichhewasalwaysperched,orhistatteredclothes,orhissameoldcrywheneversomeonepassedby.Theneighbourscouldhearfuriousrowserupting,asever,

betweenthefatherandhisarmy-officerson.TheycouldhearManeenprotestingthathecouldn’tseeanylonger,andhewasusedtosittingbytheroadside,helikedbeingthere,itwashislife,thepeoplewhocameby.Hedidn’twanttobeshutupinsideahouseevenifitwasbrandnew!Hesaidhewasonlyteasingpeoplebycallingouttothem.Allhewantedwassomeamusement,thepleasureaconversationgavehim.Nooneactuallygavehimanythingnow,astheyhadinthedaysofpoverty.Noonewastheretowashhisclothes,hesaid,noonetocookthericestackedupinthehouse.Helikedeatingwiththeneighboursanyway,hesaid,helikedbeinginthewarmdampthrongofchildrenandtheirgames.Theneighbourscouldnotmakeoutanyofthewordshissonwasyellingback.WhenIwantedtogiveoutalmsforMuhammad’ssake,hopinghe’dbe

cured,Iwenttoal-Awafiandslaughteredfiveewesandgaveoutthemeat,butManeenrefusedtotakeanyofitatall.HesaidthatifhetookitandZayidfoundout,hewouldneverforgivehim.TheIndianwomanwhomZayidbroughttothehouseasaservanttriedtohelpManeenundressandcleanhimself.Shekeptatitforafewweeksbutthenshestartedspendingallofhertimeonherownneeds.Whenherbellyswelledupenoughthatnoonecouldpossiblyignoreherstateanylonger,Zayidcameandgotherandsentherbacktoherowncountry.Maneenreturnedtohisoldwaysandhisusualappearance,thecheerfuldirtyface,hislaughterandhisstoneperch.Hiscallscamenowinafadedvoicethatwashardtohear.Orhewentsilent,withdrawinginsidehiscementhouse,especiallywheneverZayidwasinal-Awafi.Maneenyellsout:Theyearofthedisaster,myboy!Sanatal-kharsa,it

was.Whenthewatercamepouringovertheland,greenplacesanddrybrownonesboth.ButpraisebetoGod,welivedthroughit.Wehuddledinthetentsatyourpapa’splace,allcrowdedtogether,andatShaykhMasoud’s,too,dividingupthedatesandthedriedfish,tentoaplate.Ilhamdulillah!Heyy,Abbuud,you’resureyoudon’thaveaswallowofVimtoanywhereinthehouse?Yousaytome,thepensionfromtheMinistry.Thirtyriyals,Abbud,thatwon’tevenpayforacig,sohowisitsupposedtopayforthenotebooksandpensZayidneeds?Hafiza!Well,

yousee,itcoststhreeriyalsjusttogiveheralook.She’llsay,Gotakeashower,Maneen,andthenyoucancometomehere.MayGodprovideforthewomen,they’vegotnootherway.Intheyearofthehorriblerains,myboy,thewomenweredyingofhunger,andoneofthemwouldsellherselfevenforhalfapenny.Butsomeofthem,well,Abbud,theywereastubbornbunch,moneywouldn’tdoitandneitherwouldprettywords.IbroughtthisHafizaabottleofVimtoasbigaroundasmyforearmis,andshestillwasn’tsatisfied.Shedidn’ttastehunger,shedidn’tseetheyearofthehorriblerains.She’dsay,Gowashyourself,goonnow...NowIaskyou,isZaataranybetterthanme?Yearslater,whenhiseyesightwasgoneandhisteethfallingout,

Maneenjoinedinatthezarexorcisms,walkingoverhotcoalsandscreamingasmuchashepleased.Thenighthewasfounddead,fromarifleshottohishead,hehadreturnedfromthezarverylateandverydrunk.Forhoursafterhereturned,hewasshouting,standingthereinfrontofthedoortohishouse.PoorManeen!WretchedManeen!Givehimabiteofbread,givehimahalf-cigarette,givehimawomanevenifitisonlyfilthyHafiza!Somefolkssaidhe’dsimplybeenawretchedmurdervictim,theyeven

calledhimamartyr,andtheyprayedoverhim.Butotherscalledhimanimmoraldrunkardandwouldnotjointheprayers.Theyhoistedhisbodyanddidaproperburialprocession,takinghimtothegraveyardwestofal-Awafi.Whenthepolicearrivedthenextmorning,nooneclaimedtoknowanything.No,theyhadn’theardathing.Inafewdaysthecasefilewasclosed.Andnooneinal-AwafisawZayideveragain.TeacherMamduhtaughtusinallsubjects.Therewerenogirlsinour

class.Butbetweenclasses,Zayidwouldstealtothefirst-yeargroupwherefourgirlsstudiedalongwiththeboys.Hewouldsingleoutoneofthefour,pullherhairandrunoff.FinallyKhawlacomplainedabouthimtoherfatherAzzan.Afterthat,hehadtostop.WhenwewerestudyingtheChapteroftheBack-biterfromtheQur’an,

Zayidwouldglancesidelongatmewheneverwelaunchedintorecitingthoseparticularverses:‘Bewaretheback-biter,whopilesuprichesashe

pilesupthefaultsofothers,countinghiswealthandbad-mouthingothers,butwillhishundredsgivehimeternallife?’TeacherMamduhwentintolongandelaboratedetail,cursingtherichandtheiraccumulationofwealth,andthemerchantswhohoardedgold.Allthewhile,Zayid’sflame-throwingglanceswereburningmealive.Andso,onthedaywhenUstazMamduhaskeduswhatourfathersdidforaliving–whenhealreadyknewperfectlywellwhattheanswerswouldbe–Ialmostdiedofembarrassment.Ididn’thavethecouragetosaythatminewasamerchant.Theboyssaid,easilyandconfidently:He’safarmer...ablacksmith...farmer...carpenter...men’sdishdashatailor...judge...muezzin...farmer...whileIbrokeoutinasweat,afraidtocalloutthatmypapawasamerchant.Ihadtheuncomfortablefeelingthatthewordmerchantmeantafatuglydisgustingpersonwithabulgingbellywhichjiggledandswayedashepiledupgoldandtorturedthepoor.Iwassurethatmysecretasthesonofarichman–heownedwhatwasonlythesecondautomobileinallofal-Awafi,afterShaykhSaid’s–wouldberevealedandthenIwouldbethebuttofsometrulymeantaunts.JustthenZayidshouted,HispapaisMerchantSulayman!TheowneroftheBigHouse,andthefarms,andhislandgoesallthewaytoMaskad.NoonemockedmebutIfeltashamed,likeImyselfwasindisgrace.I

wishedhardthatmyfatherwasafarmerlikemostoftheboys’fatherswere.Inthebreak,ZayidandIweretheonlyboysintheclasswhodidnotgo

tothecanteenbecauseneitherofushadanyspendingmoney.UntilIreachedmiddleschool,myfatherwasabsolutelyfirm;therewasnowayhewasgoingtogivemeahundredpennieseverydayforschool.BythetimeIwasfinallygiventhisallowance,otherpeopleweregivingtheirchildrentwoorthreehundred.Ialwayshadtochoosebetweenbread,cheeseoracartonofSuntopjuicedrink.Icouldn’thavebothorallofthematthesametime.Notuntiltheveryendofhighschool.

Masouda

Althoughtheneonstreetlampsconfidentlysignalledtheroutetoeveryhouseinal-Awafi,ontheroughroadtoMasouda’shousetheyflickered,hesitant.Hersensespickedupthegrindingraspoftherustyirondoorassoonasanyonewouldbeginpushingitopentostepoverthethreshold.Thenarrowpacked-dirtcourtyardledoneintoacrampedsemi-circularspaceandatinyroomwhosedoordidn’tcloseproperly.Thewallswerelinedwithimagesonthin,dog-earedpaperoftheGrandMosqueinMeccaandtheProphet’sMosqueinMedina,andoneluridlycolouredimageinawoodframeofBuraq,theheavenlysteedwhocarriedtheProphetskyward,anelegantcreatureportrayedwithabeautifulfemininecountenance.Thinmattresses–justcheapfabricstretchedoveralayerofsponge–wereproppedagainstthewallnexttoanassortmentofplasticimplements:basketsofvarioussizesandcolours,bigladles,andpotswithwhitelids.Nexttotheopendoorwasamirrorinanancientframeatthetopofwhichwaswritteninpyramidalform‘SultanateofMuscatandOman’.Thesittingroomwascompletelyemptybutforacarpetwhoseedgeswerepartlywornawayandarolled-upmatthatalwaysstoodinthecorner.ButMasoudahadn’tsetfootinanyofthesespacesforalongtime.Oneofthewomenwholivednearbymightstopinatmidday,orayoungboyortwoatsunset.Astheirondoorscrapedopengroaning,thesmellthathadbeenimprisonedinsideburstout.Masoudawouldshout,I’mhere!I’mhere...andanyonearoundwouldtrulyknowshewasindeedthere.Atthefurthestpointtotherightfromthecourtyardwasatinyroom–

onceusedasathreshingfloor–withatoiletattachedwhichwasnothingmorethanacrackthelengthofthedirtfloorwithametalpitchernexttoit.EversinceherdaughterhadannouncedthatMasoudawasmad,the

oldwomanhadbeenconfinedinthetinyroomfurnishedonlywithareedmatcoveringthepebbles.Sheimprovisedamakeshiftwindowfromanopeninginthewallwherethreemetalskewersformedbarsandawoodenshutterhung.TherewasnothingintheroomotherthanthecolumntowhichMasoudawouldbetiedwhenherscreamswereattheirloudestandsheseemedalmostreadytosmashopenthelockedwoodendoorbythrowingherbodyagainstit.Wheneversheheardthelowscreechofthedoorshewouldgripthewindowbarsdesperatelyandshout,I’minhere!I’mMasoudaandI’minhere!TwiceeachdayherdaughterShannacameinwithlunchanddinner,

fromthehomeofMerchantSulayman.ShealmostneveropenedhermouthinresponsetoMasouda’scriesasshehandedhermothertheheapingplateandtooktheemptyone.Aneighbourwomanmightcomeby,earningherselfagooddeedbystoppingsometimesbeneaththebarredwindowforachat.TheyoungboysfromthevillagecreptinperiodicallytorelievethemselvesatthefootofthewallortothreatenMasoudaifshedidn’tstopscreamingsoloudly.NowandthenShannashowedupforanunexpectedvisit,lookinginon

hermother,fillingthepitcherinthetoilet.Exactlyafortnightintoeachmonthshegavehermotherabath,washedandplaitedherhair,swepttheplaceoutandsprinkledwateracrossthedirtcourtyard.IamMasouda!IamMasoudaandI’minhere...Onsomedaysthebreezewasvigorousenoughtobudgetherustymetal

door.Itwasn’tShannaoraneighbourwomanortheboys,butwithoutanylamp,howcouldMasoudaknowtostopshoutingaslongandasloudasshecould?I’minheeeeere!IamMasouda...

Abdallah

Salimworriesme.Afterhispoorshowinginthehighschoolexams,oneoftheprivatecollegesdidgivehimaplacebuteventhatwasdifficulttosecure.I’mnotpleasedwithanythingthatboydoesorwhoheis.Londonsaystome,Negative!Youarejustsonegative,Dad!Soonshe

willreallyturnintoamaturegrown-up.Nowthatshecanregainsomepeaceofmindafterherbadloveaffair,she’llstartanewpage.HowhappyIfeelwhenIseehersmile,onherwaytothehospital,pullingonherdoctor’scoat.PraisebetoGodwhohasblessedhumankindwiththeabilitytoforget!AsalittleboyIgotusedtohearingHabibsuddenlybark,Forgetting?

Whereisit,thisforgetting?IneverlikedHabib,notatall.WheneverhesawmewithZarifahegavemeashove.HeknewIwouldn’tdaretellmyfather.Zarifaneverdefendedmewhenithappened.IwasveryhappywhenHabibdisappearedforgood.HissonSanjarwasnomorethansixwhenpeoplestartedwhisperingthatHabibhadescaped.Habib’sancientmotherscreamedandrolledherselfmadlyinthesandandtoreherclothestoshreds.Sheseemedtoknow,somehow,thathewouldnevercomeback.Butitdidn’tsurpriseanyonetofindhimgone.Hewasalwayssayingthathewouldgobacktothatlandfromwhichhe’dbeensnatchedaway,backtohisfreedom,plunderedbypiratesandmerchants.Someyearslater,someonesaidthey’dcaughtaglimpseofhimintheBaluchCaféinDubai–thatwaswheneverynationhadtheirowncaféthere–butotherswerecertainhereallyhadgonebacktoMakran,inBaluchistan,thathe’dmarriedandhadchildrenthere.Stillotherssaidhehaddiedoftuberculosisnotlongafterescaping,andbeforethechangeinregimethatbroughtwithitarushofnewhospitals.Zarifadidn’tshedonetearoverhimandIneverheardhertalkabout

him.OncewhenIwasolderIaskedherwhyshedidn’ttrytofindanythingoutabouthim.Sheansweredwithherfavouriteline.Theproverb-makersays:Knowledgemeanspain,notknowingkeepsmesane.ButraisingSanjar,shecouldn’tkeephimignorant.Whenhehadgrownupandhadchildren,heemigratedtoKuwait.Shedidn’trollinthesandortearherclothestorags,though.Shewaitedeightyears,untilmyfatherwasdead,andthenshewentafterherson.Verysoonshewasback,spittingandswearingattheviperwhomhersonhadmarried.Afterthat,Ihadnomorenewsofher.Iwascompletelypreoccupiedwiththenosediveinthemarket,withrealestate,withbuildingthenewhouseinMuscat,withLondon’smarriageanddivorce,Salim’sstudiesandMuhammad’sillness,andalltheworriesoftheworld.ThenIheardsuddenlythatZarifahaddied.Iwenttomyfather’sfuneralafterhediedinhospital.Whenmyuncle

diedofaheartattack,andZayddrownedintheflood,andManeenwaskilledbyabullet,andHafizadiedofAIDSandMarwankilledhimselfwithhisfather’sdagger,Iwenttotheirfunerals,andIalsoattendedfuneralsformyfriends’fathersandmothers,butIdidn’tgotoZarifa’s.Simply,noonetoldme.ShegotillwithoutmyknowingandshediedandwasburiedandIstilldidn’tknow.Isawmyfatherinmydreams,hiseyesredfromsomuchanger.He

wasbrandishingapalm-fibreropeinmyfaceasheaskedmeabouther.Ahh,Habib!Yourmotherisveryold,butsheisstillalive,evennow.Whereareyou,andyourshoutsintomychildishface?Forgetting?WhereisthisplacecalledForgetting?

MayyaandLondon

Thevisitorsaregivingtheirfullattentiontothesweetsandfruits.Zarifapoursoutcoffeeforthewomenanddoesn’tletasentencegobywithoutcommentingonit.Laughterrises,voicesmingle,repeatingcomplaintsabouthusbandsandchildren,newsofmarriage,divorce,andrecentchildbirths,commentaryonthestartlinglybrightfabricsfloodingHamdan’sshop,thetelevisionswhosepresencewasnolongerlimitedtothehomesofShaykhSaidandMerchantSulayman,orwhichmudbrickhousehadmostrecentlybeenreplacedbyacement-blockrectangle.Theyhadthingstolaughabout,andtheirhostess,Salima,smiledtoshowthatshesharedtheirgoodcheer.Yesterday–andforthefirsttimeeverinhermarriedlife–Azzanhad

givenheragoldringthatheldanenormousbluestone.EveryoneknewSalimadespisedgoldandscornedanysortofadornment.Whatshehadbeenobligedtobuyasabrideshehadkeptinalockedsteelboxburieddeepinsideherlargewoodenweddingchest.SheandAzzanhadneverexchangedgifts.Healwaysgaveherwhatsheneededandheneveraskedherabouthouseholdexpenses:butgiftswereanotherstory!Salimafeltuneasyaboutherhusband’simpulsiveoffering.Asshedisappearedintothekitchentopreparemorefruit,the

muezzin’swifeandJudgeYusuf’swidowbenttheirheadstogethertowhisper.Sister,whatkindofmanisAbdallah,allowinghisdaughtertohavethisoddname?Seemshedoesn’tgettosayawordaboutit,doesn’thiswomanMayyalistentohim?Ifhehadanyballs,ifhecouldmakeherlisten,hewouldneverhaveleftittohertonamethegirlforacityinthelandoftheChristians.London!Sincewhendoesanyonenamehisdaughterafteraplaceanyway?Mayyaeatsdatesaloneinbed.Asma’sattemptstoconvincehermother

thattheyshouldalwayseattogetherhadfizzled.TheprophetichadithssherecitedhadnoeffectbuttoangerMuezzin-Wife,whoaccusedherofdeliberatelyattemptingtorevisethefaithandcorruptitwithevilinnovationsfrombooks.NoneofthisbotheredMayya.Shewasn’tparticularlyconcernedaboutfoodandwhethersheconsumeditinothers’companyornot.Shedidnotunderstandhowwomencouldspendsomuchtimeeatingandtalking.She,ontheotherhand,wassilentlywatchingherlittledaughtermakeatinytrianglewithherlips,andopenandclosehereyes.London’scryinglessenedandshebeganspendinglongerperiodsbattingattheairwithherhandsandfeet.Mayyalovedwatchingherswattingattheair,buthermotherinsistedonswaddlingthebaby.MayyahadchosenthewhiteswaddlingherselffromRuwiSouqwhenshe’dgonetoMuscattogivebirth.Shealsoboughttinywhiteundershirtsandtwolittleyellowgownsthatwouldsuiteitheraboyoragirlperfectlywell.ShehidKhawla’slipstickamongherclothes,hopinghermotherwouldn’tspotit.Shedidn’tknowwhatitwasthatworriedhermothersomuchabout

Khawla.Mayyasawherasagentleperson,quicktosympathisewithothers,theprettiestandsweetestgirlinal-Awafi.Whatwastheproblemifsheinsistedthatherfatherbuyheraringandsomegoldbangles?Shedeservedthem,andherfathercouldaffordit.MayyawasuncomfortablewhenhermotherattackedKhawlaforwhatseemedthemosttrivialofreasons.Ifhermotherdidn’tlikejewellery,thatwasherbusiness,butcouldn’tsheletKhawlaalone?IfonlyLondonwouldturnoutasprettyasheraunt!Mayyasighedandlookedcloselyathertinydaughter’sblackhairwhich

hadslowlybeguntogrow.Hergazesettledonthebaby’sforehead,slightlymorewrinkledthanitshouldbe,shethought.Sheaskedherselfwhetheritwastruethataperson’sfatewaswrittenontheirbrow,aspeoplealwayssaid.Whatwaswrittenonthetinyforeheadofthisnewlittlecreature?HowcouldMayyahaveseen,onherbabydaughter’sbrow,the

eveningsofsleeplessnessthatwouldcomeasshereachedherearly

twenties,allofthosenightstocomewhenAhmad’sfacevisitedLondoninsistentlybeforehisfeaturesfadedsocompletelythatshebegandoubtinghewasarealpersonwithwhomshehadhadarealrelationship,thattheyhadactuallymet,thenalsothattheyhadreallyandtrulybrokenup.Londonwouldtrytoholdhisimageinhermindbutatthesametimetobanishit.Itwasusuallyjustbeforedawnthathermemorywouldbringupacertainimage,alwaysthesameone,theportraitpublishedintheuniversitymagazine.Shesawsomethinginthatimagethatshehadn’tnoticedinperson.Inthephoto,hiseyesshiftedawayfromthecamera.EventuallyLondonhadunderstoodthatlookasoneshecouldnottrust.Mayyastrokedherdaughter’sforeheadandtouchedherwiryhair.

EarlyinthemorningAbdallahcameintoseeher,bringingcasesofbabyfoodinlittlejars.Mayyafoundthisunnecessaryandslightlydisgraceful,butshedidn’tsayanything.Firstofall,thisbrand-newbabygirlwouldn’teatactualfoodforatleastthreemonths.Second,itwasn’tasifshe,Mayya,wasincapableofcookingforherdaughterandhadtohavehimbringherjarsofHeinzandMilupawhichhadbeencannedonlyGodknewwhen.Nooneinal-Awafifedtheirbabiessuchthings.Ifhethoughtshewasgoingtoimitatehisuncle’swifeinMaskadhewaswrong.Mayyadidnotspeakmuchbutshewouldnotimitateanyone.Shewouldcook,herself,forherdaughter.Shewouldsewherdaughtercolourfulfrocksthatnoonehadseenthelikeofonalittlegirlbefore.Thisgirlwouldneverleavethehousewithoutherhaircombedandshoesonherfeetandafrockwithlongboldstripesdownthemiddle.Mayyawouldreallyprovenowhowtrulyskilledshewasatsewing.London’sclotheswouldnotlooklikeanyoneelse’sjustashernameechoednoothergirl’s.

Abdallah

OnthedaywemovedtothenewhouseIsawmymotherinadream.Isawherwrappedinalong,loose-fittingwhitegarment,walkingoverthewater.Iwaswalkingbehindherandcallingout.Mama,Mama!ButshedidnotturnaroundformeandIdidnotseeherfaceuntilIwokeup.Iwishcamerashadreachedal-Awafibeforeshedied.ZarifaalwaystoldmethatIlookedlikeher,thoughmypaternalauntwasconstantlyinsistingthatIlookedlikemyfather.ThedayLondongotthedivorcesheaskedAhmadfor,andwereturned

thedowry,Isawmymotherinadreamagain.Isawherwalkingcalmlyaheadofme.Iwasgrippingthehemofherveilandsaying,Mama,whydidyoupullupthebasilshrub?Butshedidnotturnaroundforme.Ididn’thearhervoice.WhenIlearnedthatZarifahaddiedIsawmyfatherfirstinadream

andthenIsawher,tallandthin.Shehuggedmetightly.Iwasveryshort,barelyreachinghermiddle,andshebentoverme.HerhugwasMayya’sandherfacewasZarifa’s.AsusualIfoundMayyaasleep.Whenweallstayuptalkinginthe

evening,sheleavestogotosleepassoonasmyconversationswithLondonorwithSalimgrowtense.WhenIcomehomefromworkinthelateafternoonmoreoftenthannotIfindMayyaasleep.WaybackwhenIwasaboy,ifIeverdozedinthelateafternoonZarifa

wouldfume.Shewouldshoutatme.Theproverb-makersays:Quarrelwithyourneighbourifyoumusttomakeyourmark,butneverevernapbeforedark!Mayyaneverformedthekindofseriousbondswithneighboursthatonewouldhavetohaveeventoquarrel,andshewoulddropofftosleepwhenevershechose.Inthefirstyearsofourmarriageshealwayswokeupearlyandalmost

nevertookafternoonnaps.AfterMuhammadwasborn,youcouldmeasurehersleepwithhisyears.Atfirstshewouldgotosleepbesidehiminthatnarrowlittlebedofhis;evenlateron,oncehehadgottenolderandhisbodyfilledthebed,shewouldlaydownwithhimthoughthenshewouldleavehimonhisown.Manytimes,whenIcamehomeintheeveningIfoundthemlyingtogetheronthebed,gazingattheceilingwheretheelectricfanspun.Muhammadwascompletelyfixedonwatchingthefanmove.Ifitstoppedhewouldstartcrying,andhewouldn’tstop.Soofcoursewekeptthefanturningnomatterwhatthetemperaturewas.Mayyastayedinbedlyingathissideforhoursonenduntilhedroppedofftosleepandshecouldleavehim,tosleepherself.

Husbands

Salimaspoketoherdaughtersaboutit.Asma,Khawla,lookhere!ShetoldthemthatEmigrantIssa’stwosons,whowereintownnow,hadaskedforthetwoofthem.KhalidandAliwantedtomarrythesisters.SheandtheirfatherAzzancouldfindnoreasontoturnthemdown,sheinformedthem.Asmawasunruffled.Shewouldthinkaboutit,shetoldhermother

coolly.Butsheinstructedherparentsnottorespondbeforesheinformedthemofherowndecision.ButKhawla,listeningtohermotherandsister,droppedherjaw,

unabletohideherastonishment.Whentheywerefinallysilent,shebegansayingno,faintlyatfirstbutthenfiercely.No,no,no,no.TheyhadneverseenKhawlalikethis,neverseenthissemi-hystericaledgetoherpersonality.Sherantowardthegirls’roomattheotherendofthecourtyardandshutthedoorbehindher.Sherefusedtoopenuptoanyonebeforeherfather’sreturn.Shewouldtalktohimherself.Asmacontinuedasusual,helpinghermotherinthekitchenandinall

thedutiesofthehousehold,makingcoffeeeverymorningandinthelateafternoonforthewomenwhowerealwaysvisiting,dandlinghersister’snursingbaby,discussingbookswithMayya,listeningtotheradio,reading,andwashingclothesforherfather,forhersisterjustoutofchildbirth,andforthebaby,theconstantnappiesofthenewborngirl.Butnotforamomentcouldshestopthinkingaboutthisengagement.Afewdayslatershesaidtohermother,justoffhandasshewaspoundingcardamomseedsforcoffee,Mama,okay,fine,IwillacceptthisKhalidboy.Asshespoke,Azzanwashurryinghome.Hehadreturnedunusually

latefromtheBedouinsettlement.Thecoldwindslappedathisclothes.

Therecenteventsinhislifehadtuggedhimhitherandyon,untilhenolongerknewwherehewas.Insinuationsandslysuggestionsseemedtomeethimateveryturn.Thedaybefore,swappinginstantly-composedlinesofpoetryinplayfulcompetitionwithhisdaughterastheyoftendid,Asmahaddisobeyedtherulesofthegame.Hehaddeclaimed

Thebeloved’sfacegivesyoursmorebeauty

Themoreyougiveityourgaze

Asmashotbacktwoseparatelinesinresponse,openingstofamouspoemsbytheancientpoetal-Samau’alandthe‘Abbasidpoetal-Buhturi,butneitherwascomposedonthesamerhymescheme,astheyshouldhavebeen,inthespiritofthegame.

Ifaperson’shonourisnotsulliedbybaseacts

theneverygarmenthedonsisbeauteous

andthen

Iguardedmyselffromwhatwouldsoilmyself

andheldmyselfabovethepaltryofferingsofthescoundrel

SowerepeoplesensingQamar’spresenceinhim?ThisbeautifulMoon,Najiya?ThiswondrousQamarhadtaughthimhisownbody,asthoughhe’dbeencompletelycluelessaboutitalwaysbefore.ThisQamarhadtaughthimenticementsthatshatteredhisoldexistencetopieces.Thewayhefeltaboutit,hehadn’tknownanythingatallaboutanythingbeforeheknewher.Everyeveningwhenhisfeetsankintothesandashehurriedtowardthefragranceofher,whetherhewanteditornothiswholebeingwasdrivinghimtothispresencethatwassoextraordinaryandhadtransformedhislife.Comingtomeetherlikethissimplyintensifiedhisthirst.Fromthestarttheysharedaclearsenseofwhatthiswas.Afree

relationship.Freedom,yes,inthisbondtheyhadmade.Atfirstitdidreallyseemthattheyhadclimbedtothesummitofpuredesire,freeofartificiality,concealment,ordeception.Betweenthemselves,anyway.Nopromisesmade,noaspirationshinted,justeachmoment’sblazeofpassion.Notiesfromthepastandmoreimportant,notiestothefuture.That’swhattheywantedandworkedfor.AfewweekslaterAzzandiscoveredthatthisfreerelationshipwascollapsingintotheroughestandmostviolentsortofslavery,drivenbyneed,bindingtheminirons.Itdistractedhimfromeverythingelse,ashesawthisunendingcycleofunionandseparationenvelopingthem,slavestoaviciouscycleofnever-endingdemandsanddoubts.Hisneedforherwasprofound,asviolentandasobscure,too,asitseemed,allthemoresowhenhewasactuallywithher.Butnow,reachinghome,Azzanopenedthemassivewooddoorcalmly,thinking,That’sthewayitis.There’snofreedominlove,andyoucan’tchoose–othersarethere,orthey’renot.Hewalkedthroughthecourtyardwithoutnoticingthelamplitinthegirls’room.Enteringthesittingroom,hefoundeveryonethere,alertandtense,waitingforhimtocomehome.ExceptforKhawla.Cocoonedinabiggreenwoolshawl,Mayyawasnursingherbabygirl.

Asmawaswithher,pattingthenewborngirl’sswaddlingintoplace,andavoidingraisingherhead.Salimawashunchedover,butinhercrouchingpostureshestillglaredathim.Hetookoffhisshoesandsanddribbledfromhistoes.Shedidnotstandupandcomeoverassheusuallydid.Herubbedathisbeardonceortwiceandasked,What’sgoingon?YourdaughterKhawlashutherselfupthismorningandrefusedtotalk

toanyoneuntilyouwereback,Salimasaid.Azzanputhisshoesbackonandreturnedtothecourtyard.Heknockedsoftlyonthedoortohisdaughters’room.Salimasighed.Apuffofcoldbreeze,agentlebriefrainpour.Winter

remindedherofherchildhood,thoughwhensherememberedchildhoodshefeltathinthreadofbitternesswrappingtightlyaroundherheart.Shewasfloatinginasoftgloomycloud;no,shewaslyingonjaggedrock.Shesawherfather.Shealwayssawhimintwoimagesthatcametoherina

dream.Hewasbendingoverher,dropsofcoldablutionwaterdrippingfromhisbeard,tohoistherontohisshoulder,withherbrotherMuaadhonhisothershoulder.Intheotherimageheagedandthendied,allinacoldwinter.Salimahatedthewintertime.Itseemedtocarrythesmelloftheroughwoolblanketandthesheetthatshroudedherfather,andalsothecoalsthatwarmedtheroomwherehewasdying.Khawla’seyeswerepuffy,hernosebrightred.Herfatherhadbetrayed

her,shesobbed.Betrayedhispromisetohisbrotheronhisbrother’sdeathbed,andnowhemeanttosellherofftoAli,sonoftheEmigrant.Howcouldanyonethinkofcomingtoengageherwhenshewasalreadyengaged?Howcouldherfatherevenconsidertheideaofacceptingthissuitorandbetrayingherlateuncle?Khawlatalkedandtalked.Shewouldneverstoptalking,shesaidtoher

father,thewayMayyahadstoppedtalkingwhentheymarriedheroffwithoutanyoneaskingheropinion.MayyahadnothadaneducationbutKhawlahad,andshewouldkillherselfifherfatherinsistedonthismarriage.Shewasvowedtohercousin,thesonofherlateuncle,andhewasequallyvowedtoherandnocreatureonearthhadarighttooverlookthisfact.Azzanlistenedtohisdaughteruntilshehadsaidallshehadtosay.It

hurtbadly,listeningtoherandknowinghowlittlehehadgottentoknowthisdaughterwhowasbarelysixteenbutknewherselfwellenoughtowanttokillherselfforthesakeofacousinwhonoonehadheardfromforseveralyears.Khawla,trynottoworry,hesaidtoher.Itwillbeallright.Heleftthe

girls’roomandreturnedtothesittingroom.Hedidnotstoporturntospeaktoanyone,butcontinuedon,intohisownroom.TherainstoppedandAzzanlaywideawakeuntilmorning.

Abdallah

Myuncle’swifestoodinthecourtyardofhermodernpoured-cementhomeinWadiAday.Handsplantedonherhips,shescreechedatme.Yourfatherraisedyouwithanironfistanditcertainlydidn’tdoyouanygood!Youcan’tevenraiseafingertonameyourowndaughter,huh?Loondoon!Thisname–whatisit?Idon’tseemtorecallseeinganyonenaminghisgirlbabyal-AwafiorMatrahorNizwaorWadiAday.IfeltalaughcomingonbutImanagedtosuppressit.Mycousin

Marwan,whowasalsoknownasthePure,wassittingonthebenchjustinsidetheentrytothecourtyardandgazingatus,notsayingaword.Marwanwasalwayssilent,unlikehisbrotherQasimwhowasclosertomeinage.SoIwaspartialtothelittlerMarwan,tohissilentwanderingsandthewayhelosthimselfinthought.Ididn’tsayanythingtomyuncle’swife,whohadbrowbeatenmyuncleyearsbeforetogethimtomovethefamilyawayfromal-Awafioutoffearofmyfather’sheavyhand.Myuncle’swifesoldthathouseinWadiAdaysurroundedbytinyshopsaftermyuncle’sdeath.Myuncle’swifedidnotreturnthecorpseofMarwanthePuretoal-Awafitobeburiedinthegraveyardthere,whereeveryoneelsewasburied.Ididn’tactuallyhatemyuncle’swife.WhenIwassmallshelivedwith

myuncleandtheirchildreninthenorthwingofourhousebutsheinsistedondoingherowncookingforherchildrenwhilesheleftmyuncletoshareourfood.Allthetime,Iheardthesoundsofquarrellingbetweenherandthesisterofmyfatheranduncle,andmyuncle’sattemptstoreconcilethem.Iwouldbesittingonthebenchnexttoourfrontdoorafterthedawnprayerwhenshepassedby,abundleoflaundrybalancedonherhead,goingtothefalaj.Itwasarareoccasionwhensheturnedtospeaktomeandthenitwasalwaystoaskthesamequestion:

Whatdidyouhavefordinnerlastnight?Iwouldneveranswer.Itembarrassedme.Talkingaboutfoodwasconsideredshamefulinourhouse.IfIweretoaskZarifa,Whatareyoumakingforlunch?theonlyresponseIwouldgetwouldbe,You’llsee.Thatwasthewayitwaswithfoodinourhome.Wesawitwhenitwasinfrontofus,andweateitquicklywithoutanyconversation,washedourhandsandthankedGodanddidn’tsayaword,andheavenforbidwecriticiseanything!Butmyuncle’swifeaskedmethisstrangequestion,sooddwhenshemustknowthatourhouse–packedasitwaswithslavesandguestsateverymeal–wasnotthekindofplacewherefoodcouldremainasecret.Whywouldanyoneaskaboutit?Ifitwasn’tricewithlambandspicesitwasfishwithonionsandlemonanddriedsardines.Somuchwascertain.OnedayIsatwatchingtheotherchildrenplayingball.Iwashopingto

getintherewiththembutmyfatherhadforbiddenmetoleavethehouseunlessIwaswithhim.MyheartleaptwitheverygoalandIwouldscream,GOOOAAAL!asIjumpedupfromthebench.Myuncle’swifecameoutside,thewaterfromthebundleofnewlywashedclothesrunningdownintoherhairandherbodyamassofenergyandbalance.Seeingme,shelaughed.Didsomeonetieyouuphere,myboy?Andthen:Whatdidyouhavetoeatlastnight?Ijumpedupsofast,andIwassoclosetoher,thatIknockedthewetclothesshewascarryingoutofhergripandtheytumbledontothedirtasIshouted,Poison!Weatepoison,areyouhappy?Thesparksflewfromhereyes,butMasoudacameatjusttherightmomentandhustledmeaway.Masoudawaspantingundertheloadoffirewoodonherbackafter

spendingtheearlydawnhoursinthedesertoutsidethefarmsofal-Awafi,breakingoffdriedbranchesfromtheacaciatreesandwrappingtheminbundles.Laterinthedayshewouldturnthisfirewoodintocoalsthatcouldbesetbeneaththecauldronsthatheldourdinner.Earlythenextmorningshewouldbeoutthereagain,bendinglowtopickupanewbundleoffirewood.Don’tspeaktoher,shesaidtome,panting.Comeon,comeinside.Fromthatdayon,myuncle’swifeignoredmecompletelyandafewmonthslatershetookmyuncleandthechildrenandthey

settledinWadiAdayinthecapitalcity.Ididn’thearthatquestionaboutwhatwewerehavingfordinnerever

again,untilIgrewupandtravelled.Then,Idiscoveredthatpeoplewouldtalkforhoursabouttheirfood.Televisionadsshowingopenmouthshappilyconsumingvariousdishesshockedme.Aroundme,peopleaskedeachotherinallsimplicity,Whatdidyouhavetoeat?Or,Whatareyougoingtohavefordinner?MysonSalimreturnsfromcollegeandbeforehesaysGoodeveningheasks,What’sforsupper?Ifhismother’sresponsedoesn’tpleasehimheturnsaroundandleavesthehouse,headingforthepizzatakeoutorMcDonald’s.

Khawla

AssoonasherfatherlefttheroomKhawlahurriedtothedoor,pullingittightlyshutasithadbeenbefore.Shestoodleaningagainstthewindow,breathingheavily.Ittookheramomenttonoticethattherainwascomingdownhard,andthenshesatdownonthefloor,herfacetowardwhereMeccawouldbe.Hermotherhadalwayssaidthatyourprayersareespeciallypowerfulwhenrainiscomingdown.Liftingherhandshigh,sherepeatedthesamesupplicationthatsheutteredattheendofeverysetofprayers,andwheneveritrained,andwhenshewasfasting.OLord,bringNasirbacktome.BringhimbackbeforeIdieofgrief.Sherestedherheadontheopenpalmofherrighthandandcurledup

inthefoetalposition.Shelovedlisteningtothesoundoftherain,andshelovedevenmorerunningbeneathitandfeelingthewetnessseepingallthewayintotherootsofherhair.Justthen,though,sheknewshewouldn’tdaregoanywherenearthesittingroomifsheweretogooutintotherainfirst,andtherewasnorealwaytohide.Onewayoranother,hermotherwouldcatchsightofher.Ifsheweretogooutside,itwouldevenbedifficulttoslipbyunnoticedintothegirls’roomtodryherselfoffbeforesomeonesawher.Sheturnedontoherbackandstaredattheceiling,thewhitefan,andtheneonstrip,hermindonNasir.Whentheywerelittle,theyhadplayedtogethereveryafternoonwith

theotherneighbourhoodchildren.Theyformedteams:onefromtheeasternquarterandtheotherfromthewesternquarter,eachteamchasingtheotherthroughallthelittlestreetsanddead-endalleysofal-Awafi.KhawlaalwaystriedtoavoidZayidbecausehewasforevercatchingholdofherbraidsandyankingthem.ShestayedclosetoNasirwhereverhewent.Mostoften,thetwoofthemslippedawayfromthecollectivetaggame.Nasirwoulddartovertothemuezzin’shousetopluck

aredrosefromthelonerosebushinthecourtyard.Hewouldpokeitintoherbraidbuthealwaysforgotherwordsofcaution:Takethethornoffthestemfirst!Morethanoncearosefromthemuezzin’shousescarredherforehead.Khawlaturnedontoherside,layingherheadonherleftpalm,withthe

onepictureonthewallstaringather.Mayyahadhungittherebeforesheleftthisroomtogetmarried.Athingiltframeenclosedabroadpasture,thegreengrassextendingintothedistanceandmassedcloudsoverhead.Ofcoursetherewasnosuchthingintheworld!Mayyaalwaysprotestedthattherewas,inEngland.Alloftheseenormousgreenspaces?Howcouldthatpossiblybe?ThebiggestexpanseofgreenKhawlahadeverseenwastheirfarm,whereshe’dhidtheenvelopecontainingNasir’spicturebyshovingitintothesplitinthepalm-treetrunk.Hermemoryofthatdaywasvivid.Asthelightbegantofade,thegroup

ofboysandgirlsweretiringoftheirgames,andmostheadedhome.Nuraproposedanothergamethattheysometimesplayed:NamesandJobs.Eachchildwroteoutalistofnames,numbered,andlikewiseofjobs.Theneachchoseanumber,andthatwouldyieldthenameofafuturehusbandorwife,andajob.WhenAbdal-Rahman,JudgeYusuf’sson,chosenumbertwenty,Khawlawasthenamethatcameup.Nasirsaid,Changeyournumber!Abdal-Rahmanrefused.Nasirgotangryandfoughtwithhim,leavinghisnosebloody,allthewhileyelling,Khawlaismycousinandmywife,mine,weareengaged!Howoldhadshebeenwhenthathappened?Shecouldnothavebeen

morethannine.AndNasir?Perhapstwelve,ormaybeeventhirteen.Sherememberedhowhehadledherbythehandtohishomewhereheruncle’swidowofferedherdatesinclarifiedbutter,andhow,beforesheleft,hehadpressedtheenvelopeintoherhand.Insidewashispicture,whichhehadtornoffhisschoolcertificate.Sheremembered,too,howhermotherbeatherwhenshereturnedsolate,darknessalreadyfillingtheworldaroundher.Khawlaturnedontoherback,interlockingherfingersbeneathher

neck.Shedidnotmuchlikethisglossymilkybluepaintthattheroom

hadbeencoveredinbutevenso,itwasaroomwhereshecouldfeelatease.Mayyawasnolongeralittlegirlwhenhermotherbegantalkingaboutaddingaspecialroomforthesisters,onethatdidnotopenontotheotherroomsandthatespeciallyremainedapartfromthesittingroom.Theirhomewasmadkhulashermotheralwayssaid–ahousepeopleflockedto,ahousethatwasalwaysfullofothers.Womenwerealwayscomingandgoing,andespecially,sittingandvisitinginthebigroom.Thesegirlsweregettingolder,theirwomanhoodwasbeginningtoblossom,andtheirmotherwantedtokeeptheminvisibletohervisitors’ever-curiouseyes.Anyway,theirmotherknew,itsimplywouldnotdoforthesegrowinggirlstoheartheconversationstheolderwomenwerealwayshaving,whichSalimareferredtoaswomen’sfoolishness.Khawlaandhersisterswelcomedtheidea.Aroomattheotherendof

thecourtyardwouldmeanAsmacouldbealonewithherbooks,asshepreferred,andKhawlawithhermirror,assheliked.AsforMayya,usuallyshedidhersewinginthesittingroom,anyway,exceptwhenitwasfilledwithwomenandhermothersignalledthatshemustleave.Shemustgotothegirls’room.Khawlasighed.ThatwasbeforeMayyahadgottenmarried.Sincethenshehadbeguntoshareinthewomen’sgatherings,bringingherscrawnylittleonewithher.Alargeredcarpetcoveredmuchoftheroom.Linedupagainstoneside

ofthewallstoodthreewoodenwardrobes,oneapiece.Hermotherhadgonetothecarpentertoorderthemspecially,choosingthedimensionsandthedecorativecarvingsforthemherself.ThatiswhyKhawladidn’thaveawardrobewithamirrortheheightofthedoor.Infact,theonlymirrorshehadwasthissmallrectangleinitsthinwoodframehangingonthewallfacingthewardrobes.ShehadtostandtalltocombherhairortoapplythenewlipstickthatMayyahadmanagedtogetforherinMuscat.Ontheirweddingnight,whatwouldNasirsaywhenhesawhowlongandsoftherhairwasnow?Asma’sbooksspilledoverfromhershelvesontoMayya’sshelvesnow,

becauseshehadsomanyofthesebooks.KhawlawasastonishedathowobliviousAsmaseemedtotheawfulboredomtheseancientbooks

induced.TheonlybooksKhawlacouldbeartoreadweretranslationsofHarlequinRomances,booksthatAsmascorned,refusingtobeseenholdingthemforevenafewmoments.HerfriendNurahaddiscoveredthesenovelsonavisittoherrelatives

inMuscat.ShebroughtafewtoKhawla,whowassoonaddicted.Thesebookswerebeautifulstoriesaboutloveandtheyalwaystookplaceinforestsorgreenpasturesorverdantplains.Theheroinealwayshadadelicateprettinessandtheherowasalwaysstrongandhandsomeandnoble.Lyinginbedbeforeshedroppedofftosleep,KhawlawouldimagineherselfwithNasironthatremoteandlushislandshehadreadaboutinoneofthesenovels,thetwoofthemsurroundedbyanimalsandbirdsandthemagicalsoundsofnature.Nasir’sphotographremainedinherwardrobe,concealedamongthefoldsofherclothes,forseveralmonths,beforeNurawarnedherthathermothermightstumbleacrossit.Theyagreedthatthebestspotforitwasthebiggestpalm-treetrunkonherfather’sfarm.Therethepicturelaystuffedinsideitsenvelopeinthetreetrunk,hiddenbythepalmfronds.Khawlamadeherpilgrimagestothattreethroughouttheyearsofadolescence.Thatday,whenheruncle’swidowdisappearedintothekitchentogetthedatesandsamna,Nasirgrabbedherhandandsaid,Don’tevermarryAbdal-Rahman!Youareengagedtome.Iamthesonofyouruncle,afterall,nothim.KhawladidnotforgetNasir’swords.CertainlyNasircouldnothave

forgottenthemeither.Twoyears,orthree,orfive,whocared!Sowhatifhiscircumstanceshadkepthimfromreturning?Hemustbeverybusywithhisstudies,andhecouldn’tsendletterstoKhawlaoutoffearofhermother’sanger.Ofcoursenot.Hehadn’tforgottenher.Shewasengagedtohim,andshewouldwaitforhim.WhenNasirpassedhissecondaryschoolexaminationsandcansof

sodapopwerehandedroundtotheneighbourstocelebratetheoccasion,Khawlawasstillinmiddleschool.Deliriouslyhappy,shedrainedthreeentirecansofsodaallbyherself.Shegavehimaneye-catchingsilverpenthatNurahadboughtforherinMuscat.Asshelookedon,hekissedthepen,andshewassoembarrassedshealmosthopedtheearthwouldopen

andswallowherup.HetoldherhehadgottenascholarshiptoCanada,andsheshouldstartnowtoprepareforthewedding,whichtheywouldhavethenextsummer,thenhecouldtakeherbacktherewithhim.Shecried,andshedrewredheartspiercedbyarrowsonthelonglettershewrote,andwhenshefoundshehadnopictureofherselftogivehim(that’swhattheheroinesinromancenovelsalwaysdid),sheimitatedwhathehaddoneyearsbefore.Shetorethephotooffhersixthgradeschoolcertificateandgaveittohim.Itwasanoldpicture;whathesawwasadazed-lookinglittlegirlinlongbraidswithablueamulethangingprotectivelyroundherneck.Lyingontheredcarpet,Khawlatossedrestlesslyandmoaned.The

rumourswhirlingaroundrefusedtodisappear.PeoplesaidNasirhadfailedhisfirstyear;theysaidhehadgotteninvolvedinthingsthathadnothingtodowithstudyandcouldn’tgetout;theysaidhewasn’tintouchwithanyoneherenow,notevenhismother;theysaidtheMinistryinMuscathadcutoffhisscholarshipmoneybecausetimeaftertimehehadfailedhisexams.Theysaidhewouldnotbecomingback.Well,letthemsaywhatevertheywanted!Nasirwouldcomeback.Hewouldcomebacktoher,toprettyKhawlawhohadwaitedforhim,whostillwaitedforhim,alwaystakinggoodcareofherself,preservingherlooksforhissakeandthesakeoftheirupcomingmarriage.Thebrownplasticbankmouldedintotheformofahousesatonthe

shelfinherwardrobe.Nooneknewitwasagiftfromhim,onthedayshepassedherfirstyearofmiddleschool.Everytimeshedroppedahundredbisaintotheslotthatbisecteditsroof,Khawlasworethatthemoneywouldreappearonlytopaythecostsoftheirwedding.Sothen,whowasthissonofEmigrantIssawhodaredtotrytowinherhand?Didn’theknowthatshewasalreadyengaged?Howcouldhebesoinsultinglybold?Andhowcouldtheyengagehertosomeonewhenshealreadyhadafirstcousinandwasvowedtohim?WAllahiwAllahiwAllahi!Maymythroatbeslit,myneckcarvedlikea

lamb,sliverbysliver,ifmyfamilyinsistsonmarryingmetothesonofEmigrantIssa.Iwillkillmyself,IsweartoGodIwill.

Abdallah

ThroughtheairplanewindowIseestreamsoflightfarbelow,spillingfromcitiesalongthecoastlinetoarcintothesea.Theflowsoflightfollowaquiet,meanderingcourse,notatalllikethefiercespillsofwaterinal-AwafithatdrownedZayd.ThefloodscameaboutayearbeforeIfirstsawMayyaathersewing

machine.TheimageofZayd’sbodyswollenbyfloodwatershauntedme,chasingmethrougheverydreamIhad.ReturninghomeonthoseeveningswhenIhadstolenawaytohearthewailsofSuwayd’soud,IwouldfindZayd’sghostloominginfrontofmeallofasudden,blockingmyway.ItwasonlywhenIsawMayya,sosadandprettyandpale,bendingoverthesewingmachineasifshewereputtingherarmsaroundatinychild,thatIstoppedseeingZayd,whetherinmydreamsoronthedarkpathleadingbacktomyfather’shouse.Icameoutofmyheavymoods.Inthemelodiesandrhythmsof

Suwayd’soudIcouldalmostfeelmyselfdwindlingtonothing,alittlelikethewayIsensedmyselfdissolvinginthecloudypallorofMayya’sface.PerhapsIcameclosetobecomingafast-movinglittlestreammyself,arushofwaterreadytosweepawaythesewingmachineandplantmeinitsplace.Icouldnearlyfeelmyownearliest,inchoateself,myfleshrecreatedinMayya’sthinfingersonthefabric,inSuwayd’sthinfingersstretchedoverthestringsofhisinstrument.Ifonlymyfatherhadnotcaughtsightofme.Forsomereasonhehadn’tstayedinhisroomasheusuallydidafter

theeveningprayers.Havingassumedthathe’dsoughttherefugeofhisbedashedideverynight,IwentoutandZarifalockedthedoorbehindme.Webothknewshewouldunlockitbeforegoingtosleep.ButwhenIreturnedIfoundthedoorbolted.Istoodthereconfused

andafraid.DiditmakesensethatZarifawouldforgetaboutme?Orhadsomeotherpersoncomealongafterherandlockedthedoor?Mybewildermentdidn’tlastlong.ThedoorwhippedopenandIsaw

myfather’sfacethroughthedarkness.Fattum’sboy...yes,Fattum’sson.Soyouthinkyou’regrandenough

togoagainstme,d’you?Me?You’ddisobeyme?Fattum’sson!Hebellowedalotofwordsatme,mostofwhichIdidn’tunderstandorevenhear–exceptmymother’sname.Ilostconsciousnessafterablowsomewheretomyhead.Heleftmebleeding,lyinginfrontofthegate.WhenIcameto,IcouldhearZarifaweepingbutIcouldn’tseeher.Whenhehadkickedme,Iyelled.Iamnotaboyanylonger!Iscreamed

myrageinhisdirection.AndIwillgooutatnighttohavesomefun.Likeanyotherguymyage.Butinfact,myvoicewastooweaktobeheard.Iknewitthen,andI

knowitnow.Sowhy,twenty-fiveyearslater,wasIshoutingatSalim,You’renotinbedyet?Wherehaveyoubeen?Areyousuchagrownman,then,thatyoucangoagainstmeandstayoutallnight?Hehadgottenhomeat2am.AsfarasIcouldsee,hewasdrunk.Ihad

moretosay,moretoshoutintohisface,butIdidn’trecognisethevoicethatwascomingfromme.Itwasn’tmyvoice.Myfather’svoice,intheblackfortressofthe

entrywaytohishome,bruisedmyfaceandhead.ThenextmorningIwasadjustingmyturbanasIgotreadytoleavewhenSalimcameintomyroom.Hestilllookeddrunkandhesaidtome,Dad,I’mreallysorry,reallyIam.Andthenhewentout.WhenIsaidtoMayya,furiously,andnotforthefirsttime,Itoldyou,

thissonofyoursisgoodfornothing,shemadeexcusesforhim.Hisexamswerejustover,shesaid,andallofhisclassmateswereoutonthetown.Hewasnotaboyanymore.

Viper

Zarifarappedhardonthedoor.Sanjar!Getouthere,boy.Hewasthereimmediately.Mama!Everythingallright?Shewouldnotcomeintohisroom.Theywalkedthroughthebroad

frontcourtyardoftheBigHouseandouttothelittlealleywaysthatwerepalelylitbythewanflowsoflightcomingfromthehousesoneitherside.IsittruewhatIheard,Sanjar?Isittrue,you’dleaveyourownhome

town,yourfamilytoo,you’dgoaway?Yes,it’strue,hesaid.Comewithmeifyouwantto.Shepouncedonhim,herarmssohardaroundhisneckthatshe

practicallythrottledhim.Yougiveyourlittlegirlthisstrangename,Rasha,whichnoonearoundherewouldevernameherdaughter,andyouwanttoleavetowntoo?Heshookoffhergriproughly.Hisvoicewasloudnow.Listen,Mama!I

don’tcarewhatmydaughter’snameis–yes,ifshe’dbeenaboyI’dhavenamedherMuhammadorHilalorAbdallah—What?Zarifashouted.MerchantSulaymanwouldkillyou!You’dgive

yourchildanamehegaveoneofhischildren?Areyoucrazy,boy?Whodoyouthinkyouare?Andwhoraisedyouinhisownhomeandgaveyouaneducationandgotyoumarried?Hespokethroughclenchedteeth.Listentome.MerchantSulayman

raisedmeand,yes,heputmethroughalittleschooling,andhefoundmeawife,butitwasallforhisownself-interest,allbecausehemeantmetoservehim,andtohavemywifeashisservanttoo,andthenmychildrenlateron.No,Zarifa,no!MerchantSulaymanhasnoclaimonme.Wearefree–thelawsaysso,free,Zarifa.Openyoureyes.Theworldhaschangedbutyoujustkeeponsayingthesamewordsoverandover:yahababi,yasidi,mymaster,myhonouredmaster.Whileeverybody’s

gotteneducatedandgottenjobs,you’vestayedexactlywhereyoualwayswere,theslaveofMerchantSulaymanlikethatisallthereis.He’sjustanoldmanwhocan’tevenkeephishandssteady!Openyoureyes,Zarifa.Wearefree,andeveryoneishisownmaster,andnooneownsanyoneelse.IamfreeandIcantravelwhereverandwheneverIlikeandIcannamemychildrenwhateverIwanttonamethem.Ifit’swhatyouwant,thenstaywithhim,theoldfool.Fine.Juststaythen.Zarifawasonthepointofslappinghim,anautomaticresponseleft

overfromallthoseyearsofdevilishboyhood–yearswhichweren’tsofarbehindthem,afterall.Tooquickforher,hesteppedbackandwithherhandmissinghim,shelostherbalance,teeteredandfell,collidingwiththebaseofthewall.Awomanfromthevillagehappenedtobeinthesamealleyway.

HearingZarifa’ssobs,sheranover.Likeawomaninmourning,Zarifathrewherarmsupandclappedthemaroundhershoulders.Theirheadstogether,shaking,theysobbed.Theboy’sgone,theboy’sgoneandleftme,hetalksjustlikehisfather.He’smakingnosense,likehispapa,andhe’sgoingawaylikehimtoo.Free,free!That’swhathealwayssays.Hisfathertormentedmewithsuchtalk.Icouldn’tbelieveitwhenHabibleftandnowhissonheresoundsjustlikehim.Free,notslaves!Whatdoesanyofthismattertome?Iwantmysonherewithme.Thatviperwomanofhisputsideasinhishead,shetellshimtoleavemeandgoaway,shewantsmyhearttoburntoashes.Andwhere’shetogo?What’llheworkat?Whowillfeedhimandkeephimsafe?Myson,myboy,myonlyone,he’sgone,gone...Theotherwoman,herarmsaroundZarifa,wassobbingjustashard.Butitwasn’tSanjar’swife,Shanna,who’dhadtheidea,evenifshewas

readyenoughtoencourageit.SoonafterShanna’sfather,Zayd,haddied,theyearbefore,Zarifa

announcedtotheyoungwomanthatshewouldbetrothhertoSanjar.Shannahadbeendeliriouswithjoy.Gettingmarriedmeantgettingoutofhercollapsinghouseandawayfromherfamily,andthatwasthemostshecouldhopefor.Marryinganymanonthefaceoftheearthwoulddothat.

Sanjarhadnothing,ofcourse,butshe’dlearnedthathewashopingtogoawaysoonerorlater,leavingthisentirecountrybehind.Shewasboredwithal-Awafi–itspeople,itsanimals,themountainsandfarms–andshesharedSanjar’sfierceyearningforanewlifeinaplacefarawaywherethereweren’tanypoorpeople,orwhereatleast,maybe,theycouldclimboutofthepovertythatdoggedthemhere.Shewasfedupwithbeingpoor,withthefilthandthebeggingthatwentalongwithhavingnothing.Shewastiredofalifethatheldnotouchofstyleorrefinement,or–andthiswaslikelyworse–alifeinwhichshewasalwaysabletoseenicethingsbutnevertohavethem.Shewastiredofcarryingwateronherheadeverymorningandevening,ofthesmokefromtheircookingfiresandthedustcloudshestirredupwhenevershehadtosweepthehouse.Butwhatreallydisgustedher,morethanal-Awafianditspeopleandanimalsandpovertyandservice,washermotherMasouda.EversinceShannahadopenedhereyesonlife,thismotherofhershad

beenabentandtwistedcreature–acrookedformwhoselashlesseyeswereswollenandwhosehandswereeverdryandcracked.WhenShannagotolder,shewouldhearthathermother’spermanentlybowedbackwastheresultofconstantlystoopingovertheshort-handledbroomshe’dalwaysusedtosweepthecourtyard,andofcoursefromcarryingheavyloadsoffirewooddayafterday.ShannaavoidedMasoudaasmuchasshepossiblycouldandshowed

heraversionasthoroughlyasagirlcoulddowithoutstirringuptoomanycommentsorrumours.Andasifthisill-starredmother’smiseryweren’tenough,herhusband’sdeathhadleftherinapeculiarcondition.She’sgoneoutofhermind,ofcourse,Shannamutteredtoherselfrepeatedly,justasshesaidtoeveryoneelse.Shecouldnotunderstandhowherfathercouldhavefeltanythingatallforthiswomanwhohadspentherentirelifecarryingwoodandsweepingthefloor.IthadalwaysastonishedShannatofindthetwoofthemspendingthelongeveningstalking,evenlaughingtogethersometimes.Herfatherwasastrongman–why,hewasknownasthefellowwhocouldhoisttwohugesacksofriceortwoenormousbagsofdateswithoutanyshowofstress.Forhermother,he

hadbuiltthishouseoutofgypsumwithhisownhands.He’dhadthemeanstomarryanotherwomanbuthedidn’t.Hestuckwiththisstrangewifeofhis,seeminglyfondofherandheroddways.Manytimes,Shannahadsaidtoherself,Ifhehadmarriedsomeoneelsethenmaybenowshe,Shanna,wouldhavebrothersandsisterswhocouldsharesomeoftheirritatingburdenofthismother.ButasZarifa–soontobecomehermother-in-law–wouldalwayssay,Thebeastofburdenismadeforburdens.Howcouldsheknowwhatmighthavehappened,anyway?Likelythose

imaginarybrothersandsisterswouldhavewashedtheirhandsofhermother,becauseshewasonlytheirfather’selderwife,andtheywouldhaveleftShannawithallthemiseryandtoiloftakingcareofher.InanycaseSanjarwouldemigrateashisfatherhaddonebeforehimandthenShannawouldberidoftheworryandthedrudgery.Shewouldnolongerhavetohearthismonotonoustinnyinsistentvoicethatmadethebaseofherskullvibrate.I’moverhere!It’sMasouda.I’mMasoudaandI’mhere.Alwaysthatvoice,embarrassingShannainfrontoftheneighboursandshamingherbeforeallthepeopleofal-Awafi.Shehatedthem.Shehatedthemall.

Abdallah

NosoonerdidMuhammadfreehimselfofhisobsessiveattachmenttothewhirlingfanthanhebecameengrossedinanothergame:openingandshuttingthedoor.Hespentallofhiswakinghoursyankingitopenandthenbangingitshut,overandover,withneverapause.Wetrieddesperatelytointeresthiminsomeotheractivity,anything,ortogethimtorepeatthefewunconnectedwordshecouldpronounce.Allwasinvain.WhenIleftthehouse,Muhammadwouldalwaysinsistthathismother

stayimmediatelynexttohimasheopenedandclosedthedoor.Shedidnotsayaword.WhenI’dhadenoughofthecompanyofmyfriendsandthecaféswesatin,IwouldreturnhometofindthetwoofthemexactlyasIhadleftthem.Muhammadwouldberepeatinghisrandomwordslikeaparrot,hismotherthereathisside.Eventually,outofsheerexhaustionhewouldcollapseandfallsleep.Shewouldgotosleepimmediately,wakinguponlywhenhedid.OnedayIcamebackwhenMayyawastakingabath.Thesoundofthe

dooropeningandshutting,openingandshutting,openingandshutting,begantoerodemysanity,anditwasallIcoulddotokeepfromknockingMuhammad’sheadagainstthatdoorofhisorcuffinghim.Iwishedhewouldopenthewindowinsteadofthedoor,perchthereforamoment,andflyrightthroughit.Yes,IwantedMuhammadtoflyoutthewindowlikethebirdsandnevercomeback,ifonlythatwouldstopthisunending,never-changingsoundforgood.

Salima

AzzaninformedSalimathathehadacceptedtherequestmadebyKhalid,sonofEmigrantIssa,forthehandofhisdaughterAsma,andthathehadexcusedhimselftotheEmigrant’sfamilyfornotacceptingKhalid’sbrotherforKhawla,tellingthemthatshehadalreadybeenreservedforhercousin.Salimaflashedhimanangrylook.Hercousinwho?shesnapped.Nasir,

thatboywehaven’theardapeepfrominmorethanfouryears?Whoneverhasaskedafterusorher?SincewhenisKhawlareserved?Whatisthistalk?Whereishe,thiscousinofhers?Outonthestreetslikeatramp,miserablefellow,somewhereinCanada–andwerefusesomeonewhoreallywantstomarryourgirl?Azzanturnedhisfaceaway.Ihaverespondedtothemandthereis

nothingmoretosay.IfyouwanttomakepreparationsforyourdaughterAsma’sweddingandagreewiththewomeninKhalid’sfamilyaboutthedowryandthearrangements,thengoahead.ButKhawla–no.Hethrewawoolshawloverhisshouldersandwentoutashedidevery

night.Salimawalkedquietlyintothemiddleroom.Mayyawasasleep.She

pickedupthebaby,undidherswaddlingandbeganrubbingoilandsaltintoherreddenednavel.ThetinygirlopenedhereyesandstaredatSalima.Thebaby’sgrandmothercouldnotkeepbackatearortwoassherememberedMuhammad,whohaddiedasanursingbaby.ShewastryingnottorememberHamad–Hamadwhomthisbabysoresembled,thesonshehadlost.Shedidn’twanttorememberhimatall.Shewrappedthebabyupagaintightlyandsettledthelittlebundleon

herlap.Sheexaminedherfaceforamomentandclosedhereyes.Openingthem,itwasnothergranddaughterthatshesaw.Shedidn’t

evenseeMuhammadorHamad,hertwodeardepartedones,nordidsheseeAzzan’sglumface.Hereyesweren’ttakinginthebluepaintonthewallsortheshelvessetintotheirthicknesses,wheretheporcelainsatondisplay.Whatshesawwasheruncle’shouse.Heruncle’shouse?No,whatshereallysawwasthethinlinewherethe

highthickwallofthatfortressmetthesky.Howmanyyearshadploddedbyassheleanedagainstthekitchen’s

outsidewall,listeningtotheslavewomenquarrellinginsideandtheslavemen’sjokesandshoutingontheotherside,thechildrenscreamingandfightinginthecourtyard,thehigh-pitchedscreechofheruncle’swifebeltingoutcommands.AndnooneeverlistenedtoSalima,andnooneeverspoketoher.Somanyyearshadpassedassheleanedthere,againstthatwall,

unseenandunheard,staringatthelinewherethewallmetthesky.Manytimessincethosedays,shehadtriedtorememberwhather

feelingswereassheleantthereslumpedagainstthewall.Didshefeelanysadnesswhenshelearnedherfatherhaddied?Didshefeelanylongingsforhermother?Wassheangry?Shedidn’trememberanyofthesethings,thoughshetried.Allsherecalledwasasunsobrightithurthereyesandtheodourofkitchensmokeeverywhere.Shedidrememberonesensationespeciallywell:hunger.Peopleusedtotalk,backthen,abouttheimpactoftheworldwar,the

terribleinflationandalloftheunrestamongthetribes,butshedidnotunderstandwhatanyofithadtodowiththewayheruncle’swifestaredatherniece’shandsandmouthasthefamilyatetheirmainmiddaymeal.Eversinceherfather’sdeath,whenherunclehadinsistedonmovingherandMuaadhtohishome,Salimahadforgotwhatbreakfasttastedlike.Theadultsdrankcoffeeandatedatesbutshealwayswaitedforlunchtimetocome.Whentheyhadguestsfromanothertribe,Salimacouldsmellthe

fragranceofmeatgrilling,andthebrothandfreshlybakedpaper-thinbreadasthevisitingmenatewithheruncle.Thenshe,heruncle’schildrenandhiswifegatheredaroundtheleftoversontheenormoustray

thathadbeenpreparedfortheguests.Usuallytherewasn’tanythingmorethanalittlebrothandsomeboneswithhardlyanymeatonthem.Heruncle’schildrenfoughtovertheremnantsoffoodwhileheruncle’swifetrainedhereyesonSalima’shand.Salimawouldfeelherhandmustbehugeeverytimeshereachedtowardthetray.Hermouthwasverybigandugly,shewascertain.Whenthereweren’tanyguests,lunchwasdriedsardinesthathadbeenpoundedandmixedwithonion,lemonandwater,alongwithafewdates.Ricewassoexpensivethatonlyinvalidswerefedit.Shehatedtheacridsmellofthedried-outsardinesbutsincemostofthetimeshewassohungrythathertummyached,sheatethemixtureanyway.Yes,hunger.Thatwaswhatsherememberedofherlifeinheruncle’s

home.Thebaby’sshrillcrydemandedSalima’sattention.Shewashungry,of

course.Mayya,sangouthermother,getyourselfupnow,nurseyourbabygirl.Mayyastruggleduprightandmanagedtonurseherbabyuntilthe

infantfellasleep.Shelaydownagain,stretchingoutquietlyonhermat.Hermothercarriedinabigsmoothstone,laiditoverthelitcoals,andafewmomentslaterwrappeditinatoweltopreserveitsheatwhileprotectingMayya’sskinfromscorching.Mayyaexposedherbellyandhermotherplacedthestonethere,wrappingherandthestoneuptogetherlikeapackageinatatteredoldlengthoffabric.TwiceeverydayforfortydaysMayyahadtoenduretheaddedheatofthestoneonherbellysothathermiddlewouldnotcollapseintoflabbypost-birthwrinkles.Thestonedidnotannoyherhalfasmuchasdidthetightlywrappedcloth,overherbellyandaroundherbody,nightandday,forfortywholedays,untilshewascleansedofherafterbirthandwouldemergewithasleek,tautbelly.Enteringtheroom,Asmabrokeintoasmileatthesightofthe

swaddledstoneonMayya’smiddle.I’llbegoingtobuythegold,Salimasaidtoher.Andtheclothesandweddingchest,allforyourwedding.Nextmonth.Asmanodded,smilingtoherself,anticipatingherownexperienceof

motherhood.Whywasn’tthereevenonebook,amongallofthevolumesonhershelves,whichsingledoutmotherhoodastheradiantexperienceitmustbe?Hadhergrandfather,ShaykhMasoud,whoselibraryhermotherhadinherited,notbeeninterestedinmotherhood?Orwerebooksingeneralreticentonthissubject?Shedidn’tknowtheanswertothatone,sinceshehadneverseenanotherlibraryinherlife.

AzzanandQamar

Azzan’sheadlayinQamar’slap,hiseyesfixedonthestarsglitteringinthesoftcleardesertsky.Shewasglidingherfingertipsalonghislashesandbrowsandflickingoffthegrainsofsandclingingthere,puttingtheminhermouth.Hewasaccustomedtothisgestureofhersnow,soitnolongerstartledhim.Hefloatedintheecstasyofherwords,capturedbyherintensitywhichneverseemedtolessen,herzealousattentiontohouse,camels,workandbrother.Whenshesuddenlywentsilentherubbedhischeekagainstherhand.Keeptalking,Iloveyourvoice.Shelaydownnexttohiminthesand.Fingersinterlacedbeneaththeirheads,togethertheygazedattheconstellationUrsaMinorwhichwasunmistakeableatthistimeofyear.Youspeak,whisperedQamar.Youhardlyeversayanything.Azzansighed.Butamomentlaterhedidbeginspeaking.Hetoldher

aboutalong-agowoundthatwasstillalive.HissonHamad.Frombirth,Hamadhadbeenaweakandwan-lookingbaby.His

motherexpectedhimtodieatanymoment,ashadherfirstbaby,Muhammad,whohaddiedbeforehewaseventwomonthsold.ShehadHamadwearingeverykindofamuletthatshecouldgetashaykhtoprescribe.Azzanlostthehopeshehadhadfortheboy.ButHamadlived.Histinybodyfoughthard,resistingthefateofhis

brother,andhemadehiswayinlife–andwhatlifetherewasinhim!Soconstantlyinmotionwastheboythathecouldbarelyeatorsleep.Itwasalmostimpossibletoseehimstillorquiet.Hewasalwaysscamperingaroundorchatteringaway.Azzanbegantolethimselfhope.Thisboywouldbehissuccessor.This

boywouldcarryhisfather’slegacy–hisnameandproperty.Thiswastheboyonwhomhewoulddependinhisoldage.Hamad’smotherlefthis

hairalonetogrowlonglikeagirl’s,hopingtofoolthejinn,toevadethedestructiveenvythatmighttargetherson.Theleatherandsilveramuletswerestillthere,concealedunderhisclothing,untilhereachedtheageofeightanddied.Hecouldn’tdodgefate,ashisparentshadalwaysworriedandsilently

suspected.Butdeathtookitstime.Deathgavetheirheartstimetoswell,yearsenoughtogrowheavywithloveforhim,andonlythenittookhim.Qamarswallowed.Whathappenedtohim?Azzansmiledslowlyandclosedhiseyes.Whathappenedtohimwas

whathappenedtotheRangeRover.RangeRover?Youmean,acar?Azzan’sthinsmileturnedtoabittersmirk.Yes,thegreenRangeRover.WhenthefeverstruckHamaddownanditwasnolongeranyuseto

rubherbalpreparationsontohisburningbody,Salimawalkedtoheruncle’shouse.ShaykhSaidhadgrownoldbythenbuthehadnotgrownsoftenoughthathisheartwouldmeltatherentreaties.ShepleadedwithhimtorememberhisbrotherShaykhMasoud,herfather.Shebeggedhimtobemerciful,tothinkofhisfaith.Shespokeinthenameofthegenerosity,highmindednessandhonourbefittingashaykh.Everythingshecouldpossiblythinkof,shesaid,asamotherwhosechildwaslaceratedbyfever.Hisresponsedidn’tchange.TheRangeRoverdoesn’tleaveal-Awafi

unlessI’minit.ThenextdayHamad’sfevershotevenhigher.Theboywasdelirious.

ThistimeAzzanwentwithSalimatoheruncle’shouse.Azzantalkedtotheshaykhforalongtime,explainingthathisson’sconditionwasverybadandgrowingworse,andtheonlycarinal-AwafiwasShaykhSaid’sRangeRover,andtheyneededtorushHamadtoSaadaHospitalinMaskad.Iftheywentbydonkeyitwouldtakefourorfivedays,toolongtosavetheboy.AzzanwouldpaywhateverShaykhSaidaskedforandwouldcoverthedriver’spayaswell.ShaykhSaidsaid,Idon’thaveanythingmoretosay.TheRangeRover

doesn’tleaveal-Awafi,andyoursoncangetwellwithoutthosedoctors.

Allchildrengetfeversandthenthey’refine.AzzanandSalimalefthishouseavoidinglookingatthegreenvehicle

hunchedatthedoor.ShaykhSaidhadboughtittwoyearsbefore.Whenhisdriverbroughtitgrandlyintoal-Awafi,absolutelyeveryonecameoutoftheirhomestowitnessit.EvenShaykhSaid’sancientmother,leaningonherslavewomen,cameouttoseeit.Butwhensheheardthemotorandsawitsblackwheelswhirling,shethrewarockatit,callingouttothepeopleofal-AwafithatitwastheworkoftheDevil.Herrockbrokeoneofthewindows.ShaykhSaidorderedherwomentotakehismotherinside,threateningthatiftheyeverbroughtheroutagainwhenthecarwasthere,hewouldwhipthemthenandthere,infulldaylightforalltosee.Fromthatdayon,thecarneverbudgedexceptwhenShaykhSaidoccupiedthefrontpassengerseat.Ifoneofhiswiveswasinthecarhecoveredallthewindowswithcurtains.Salimacriedallthewayhome.NowAzzan’sdreamsheldonlyone

image:thecarhemusthave.HesworehewouldtakepermissiontobuyonefromtheSultanhimself,asShaykhSaidhaddone.Hewouldownacarevenifhehadtosellhisfarm–hiswholeinheritance–todoit.ButHamaddidn’twaituntilhisfatherfilledhisvow.Thefeverkilled

himfirst.Theyremovedhisclothesandhisamulets,andtheyerectedtheritual

benchmadeofdrieddate-palmfibreinthecourtyard.Neighboursbroughtbucketsofwaterfromthecanaltowashhim.Theysprinkledhimwithincenseandperfumedhimwithaloes-woodoil,andwrappedhisbodyinawhiteshroud.Thefuneralprocessionmarchedtothegraveyardwestofal-Awafi.JudgeYusufsaidtoAzzan,Yoursonisinheaven,andhewillbethere

tobringyoucoldwaterwhenyouarethirsty.Youknow,Azzan,thatyourchildwillserveyouinheaven,onthedayofJudgement,aslongasyouarepatientwithGod’swill.BeconsoledforitwasGodwhotookyourson.Azzansaidnothing.Hedidnotsaytothejudgethathehadwantedhis

sontobringhimcoldwaterinhisoldage,stillonearth.Heborehimselfwithresignationaswasexpected,andshookhandswiththosewhocame

tooffertheircondolences.Heshookeveryhandthatwasoutstretchedtohis,evenShaykhSaid’s.TearsfellfromtheMoon’seyes.Aah,it’struewhattheproverbsays:

Everyfatherknowsmiseryandpain.FromHamad’sburialtothisday,Azzantoldher,hehadneverspoken

abouthisson.Onlynow.Sheturnedtohim.Evenwithhismother?Heshookhishead.Especiallynotwithhismother.Astheyspoke,Salimawasslippingcautiouslyoutofahouseinal-

Awafi.Shehadjustcomefromaveryimportantappointment.Shewalkedquickly,sothatshewouldbecertaintobebackathomebeforeAzzancouldreturnfromhiseveningwiththeBedouinmen.Shetriedtoavoidthinkingabouthowdarkithadbeeninthere,or

abouttheconditionssetforthispeculiaragreement.Butthelastsentencethemanhadsaid,whenshewasalreadyatthedoor,poundedinsistentlyinherhead.Don’tworry,BrideoftheFalaj!Ugh,shethought.Thesepeoplewhoneverforget!Herdaughterhadmarriedandgivenbirth,andanotherdaughterwasengaged,butpeoplestillcalledherbythishatefulnickname.Angry,shequickenedherpace,wantingtobeathome.

Abdallah

WhenMayyahadgotthroughherfortydays,Ibroughtherhome,backtoourlivingquarters,asmallwingattachedtomyfather’shouse.Shestayedthere,secluded,closingherearstothewordsthathadspreadthroughal-Awafilikefireacrossdrywood.PeoplewerewhisperingaboutarelationshipbetweenherfatherandanenticingBedouinwoman.AtthattimeIwasdrivingmyfather’swhiteMercedesbetweenMuscat

andal-Awafiseveraltimeseveryweek.IspentmylongcommutesmusingthatthepeacefulhappinessIenjoyedwasalmosttoomuchforme.Wasittoomuch,thisfeelingthatIhaditall?Itmademenervous.DidIdeservesuchhappiness,ordidn’tI?Ahappymandrivinghis

father’scartohisownhome,wherethewifehelovesholdstheirchild,andwherehisfatherpresides,stillaliveandevenhealthy.That’swhatIwas,ahappyman.Simplythat.Ayoungman,barelypast

hisfirsttwentyyears,whosedreamsreachednofurtherthanwhathehadinhishands.Buthewasalittleafraidofwhatheheldinhishands.ThedarkinterioroftheMercedes,theglancinglightreflectedintheshinybuttonsontinyLondon’sclothes,thedropsofwaterfallingfromMayya’shairatdawn,theflashoftheneedleinherhandasshesewedfabricflowersontoBabyLondon’sgowns,myfather’sraresmiles.InallofitIsaw–me,theso-very-luckyman–thatthishappinesswasalotformetobear.Itwastoomuchforme.SomehowIknewthat–whateverthereason,andIhadnoideawhatitmightbe–Iwasnotworthyofallthisjoy.

Zarifa

Ah,Zarifa!YouwerewrongtobelievethatHabibhadgoneforever.No,Zarifa,itdoesn’tworklikethat.Habibwascarefultoplanthisseedsinhisson.Theyoungshootswouldgrowtoprickandwoundyou,justasHabibgaveyoupain.Habib,whetheryouarelyingcoldinsomefarawaygrave,orwhether

youdrownedintheShattal-Arab,orwhetheryou’reevenstillaliveandmakingmoneyinDubaiorBaluchistan,whereverandhoweveryoumaybenow,ifonlyyoucouldhaveleftusbeforeyousowedtheDevil’sownseeds!Wearefree,Mother.Freeaccordingtothelaw.Andwewillnameour

childrenwhateverwelike.Yoursonwentmad,Zarifa.No,itwasn’tonaccountoftheviperhe

married,thatwomanwhowassorebelliousandsodisrespectfultohermother,itwasn’tshewhoinsinuatedtheseideasinhishead.Itwastheseed,theonehisfathercarefullyplantedbeforehecoulddisappear.Ayy,Habib!ThemoreIwantedtoforgetyouandthewretchedtrouble

youmade,thelargeryourseedgrewinmyeyes,grewandgrewuntilthepressurewastoogreatandmyeyesexploded.MerchantSulayman–whoraisedhimandsupportedhim,andputhim

throughschool–hecalledtheravingmadoldman.Can’theseethatwegrewupbythegraceofthatoldman?Ifitweren’t

forhim,we’dbebegginginthestreetsnoworcallingouttopassers-byforamouthfulofrice,likepitifulManeendoes.Free...wearefree.ThisboySanjarwantstodisrespectyouandleave,justlikehiswifethe

viperscornedhermotherandlefthertothecharityoftheneighbourhoodwomen.

Poor,poorMasouda.Yes,shewasjealousofyou,Zarifa,allthosedayswhenyoudidn’thavetogooutintothedesertatsunrisetogatherwoodasshedid.Allofyourworkwasinsidethehouse,andwhenyouwentouttodrawwaterfromthefalaj,youusedtheoutingasanopportunitytovisitthewomenyoulikedintheneighbourhood.Butshe,poorthing,hadtobenddoublefromtheburdenofthewoodonherback,dayafterday,yearafteryear.Shewaspatientaboutallthetoilandmisery,andaboutherhusband.

NosoonerwouldZaydfinishwithonewomanthanhewouldgoafteranother.Whatdoyouhavetosay,Zarifa?SeekGod’sforgiveness!Thedeaddeserveonlymercy.Godhavemercyonhim,hewasalsomyrelative.Andtheproverb-makersays:Yournoseisstillyourownevenifit’sputridtothebone.Godgivehimmercy.Now,here’shergirlShanna,witheyeslikeatiger’s–butwhodoyou

blame,Zarifa?YouinsistedthatSanjarmarryherbecauseyouworriedoverhim.Areyouatpeacenow?Hewantstogofaraway,andhesaystoyou,Comewithus.Gowithyouwhere?So,weshouldleavethelandthat’sours,theplace

wherewelive,thecountryofourfamilyandourancestorsforsomestrangeworldwherewedon’tknowthepeopleorwhat’swhat?AndMerchantSulayman–whowillwatchafterhim?Whowillbakehisbread?Hissisterwhosenoseispermanentlyintheair?WhatshedidtopoorFatima,tothatpoorwoman,motherofAbdallah!Godgivehermercy.Peoplehavenomercyinthisworld.Howcanyouleaveal-Awafi,Zarifa,whenyoubarelyknowanyother

spotinGod’swideworld?It’sallyourfault,Habib,allofit.ThewordsyoukeptrepeatinginfrontofSanjarwhentheboywasstillinnappies.Yourwildsavagelaughinthedepthsofthenightstilltearsmyheart

apart.Yourcountryandyourancestors’country?Whatancestors,Zarifa?Yourancestorsaren’tfromhere.Theywereasblackasyouare,theywerefromAfrica,fromthelandsfromwheretheystoleyou,allofyou,andsoldyou.It’suseless,Zarifa,totrytellingthismanthatnoonestoleyou.That

youwerebornaslavebecauseyourmotherwasaslaveandthat’sthewaylifeis.Thatslaverypassestoyoufromyourmother.Thatnoonestoleyou,andal-Awafiisyourplace,itspeopleareyours.Habibspatinyourfacewheneveryousaidsuchthingstohim.Hedid

notwanttobanishthatmemory,toforgettheterrifyingjourneythatendedhiscalm,pleasantlifeinMakran.Thesecondchildofhismotherwhohadfiveboysinall,herememberseverything:thelocalgangsthatattackedtheirvillagewantingmoney,orperhapstopayoldscores;themerchants,ajumbleofBaluchsandArabs,whoboughtthem,thereontheplains;thefilthycrammedshipsthosemerchantspackedtheminto;theeyediseasethatspreadfastfromonechildtothenextonshipboard;hismother’sscreamingforherotherchildren,who’dbeenshovedontootherboats;thenursingbabywhodiedofsmallpoxwhileonherbreast,sotheslavetraderssnatchedhimawayandthrewhimintothesea.Wearefree.Theystoleus,andthentheysoldus!hewouldscreamin

themiddleofthenight,atdawn,inthezarexorcisms:Free!Theydiduswrong,theydestroyedus.Free!Heandhismotherweresoldwhentheyreachedtheeastcoastof

Oman.Theslavetraderssoldthemtootherslavetraders,untilfinallyMerchantSulaymanboughtthem.Habib’smotherweptforyears.Peopleinal-Awafiweresympatheticwhentheyheardherstory,butnoonecouldfindoutwhereherotherchildrenhadbeensent,andasforherbeingreturnedtoherownland,thatwasoutofthequestion.Anyway,highwaymenandpirateswouldsimplystealherandsellheragain.Therewasnodoubtaboutthatinanyone’smind.

AzzanandQamar

AzzanheldNajiya’sfacebetweenhishandsasherepeatedthelinesthatMajnunhadsaidtohisLayla.

Lightthedimnesswithyourglowoncethefullmoondips

andshineinthesun’ssteadwhilstlazydawntarries

Yourradianceoutdoesthebrightestsuntherebe:

itcanneverthieveyoursmile,stealyourpearlymouth

Theresplendentnight,yourcountenance!tho’thefullmoonrise

amoonbereftofyourbreast,ofthisgracefulthroatIsee

Whencewouldthemorningsuneverfindareadykohl-stick

toetchforitspalefacetheselanguideyesofyours?

WhatstarrysirencanmimecoyLaylawhenherformspiralsaway

orhereyes,thewinsomestartledpoolsofthesands’wildmare?

Najiyalaughedquizzically.Thesands’wildmares?Azzanstrokedherface.Thisisthemostbeautifulsortofanimal,

Qamar,andLayla’sCrazedLovertellsyouforcertain,Qamar,myMoon,thatyourbeautyisagiftfromtheCreator.Thatfromyoustreamsmorelightthanthesunandmoontogethercanevergive,andthatyoureyesaremorebeautifulthantheeyesofthewilddesertmare.Herbeautywassostrongithurthim;hersharpglowsplinteredhis

chestwithamurkyroilingpain.Allhecoulddothenwastorecitepoetrytoher.Beforesheknewhim,nameslikeal-Mutanabbi,Ibnal-Rumi,al-Buhturi,andMajnunLayla–Layla’sCrazedLover–werejustpaleghostsfrombooks,lifelessfiguresthatbelongedtothehatedworldofschoolandtheboringbooksfullofwordsthey’dhadtomemorise.Azzanmadethesedeadimagesbreathe.Najiyabegantofeelal-Mutanabbi’sinsomnia,his

ambitionsandhisfrustrations,asiftheywereherown.Sheimaginedal-BuhturisittingontherighthandoftheCaliphMutawakkil,thetwoofthemgazingoutacrossthelakethatal-Buhturiimmortalisedinhispoetry.TheimageofImru’l-Qayspursuedbythenightthatlowereditscurtainsoverhimlikethewavesoftheseadazzledher.Now,shewouldendherlongeveningchatswithAzzanbychantingImru’l-Qays’swords–al-yawmukhamrunwa-ghadanamrun–Winewe’lldrinktoday,tomorrow’scommandthey’llbray–toremindhimoftheheavytasksthatwerewaitingforherthenextday.Thoughshefeltsomesympathyforal-Maarriinhisblindness,shedidn’tunderstandhispoemsnordidshelikehisinsistencethatthesurfaceoftheearthismadeofnothingbuttheremnantsofbodies.Najiyawasallforlife.Shewaspassionateaboutit,andpoeticlinesthatcelebratedloveandthetribalzealofolddelightedher.Shecouldnotwarmuptopoemsofquietcontemplation,apuritanwithdrawalfromlife,ortheSufimysticalway.Itdidn’thelpthatAzzanwouldsinkintoastateofgloomatthevery

thoughtofthelateJudgeYusufwithwhomhehadlearnedthispoetryandtheSufiwayofspiritualpassionthatsatsouneasilynow,forhim,withhiscravingsforNajiya.OnedayshewitnessedAzzanslideintoanunfathomablegriefafterhebeganrepeatingthelinesbyShaykhSaid,sonofKhalfanal-Khalili,whohadbeen,hetoldher,animportantscholarandpoliticalleaderoftheirregioninthenineteenthcentury,theright-handmanoftheImamAzzan,sonofQays,andatthesametimeamanofsteelywillwhocouldrenounceworldlythings.

NeitherexertionnoracceptancecanIclaimtopossess

onlyamereaffinityinwhichIfindmypride

NorhaveIstrengthtowishmyselfintotheirclutches

howcanmywished-forgoalbetheirsandnotbewrong?

Mypurposeistoseenowilled-forpurposethere

theessenceofwillthisis,thewish-eyeoftheblind.

Astimewenton,NajiyabeganreactingtoAzzan’snervouspoetic

intensitybyrecoilingfromanymentionofpoetry,Oratleastshetriedtoplacelimitsonitinherownmind,byreducinganythingsmackingofpoetrytoherownfanciesaboutthesepoetswhohadlovedlife,orwhohadgoneovertheedgeasaresultofmeetingbeautifulwomen,amongwhomshesawherself,ofcourse,andespeciallyLayla,belovedofal-Majnun,theCrazed.

Abdallah

Myauntisenormouslytall.WhenIwaslittleIusedtothinkofherasaskeletalminaretsoaringoveramosqueandcastingathreadlikeshadow.SomethingaboutthefactthatshewastallerthanZarifaaggravatedme,thoughshecouldn’tcompetewithZarifainoverallbulk.That,atleast,mademefeelabitbetter.Zarifa’sbosomwassplendidlyampleforalittleboytosnuggleintoandsleep.Whenshehuggedmeherhandsandarmspracticallyburiedmealive.Myaunt,ontheotherhand,hadnochesttospeakof.Goldringsbrightenedherthinwhitehand.Bothwristswereswaddledinadozenheavy,intricately-workedbraceletsthatmadetheirowndistinctclangingwheneversheliftedanarmtopointherthinfingersaggressivelyatsomeone.Icouldn’timagineherhandsengagedinanyactivity,exceptforpokingtheirskinnyfingersimperiouslyintothefacesofothers.Ididnotunderstandthesecretbehindhernever-endingpresencein

myfather’shouseeventhoughshehadbeenmarriedtoamaternalcousinofherswholivedinanothertown.Shewasscornfulofeveryoneandtreatedthemwithaneccentric,exaggeratedetiquettethatbelittledthemmercilessly.Shedidn’thavemuchtosay.Whentheneighbourhoodwomencameby,outofpoliteness,whenshewasinourhouse,shewouldbarelytouchtheirhandsingreeting,quicklyandostentatiouslypullingbackherownheavilyhennaedfingertips,invitingthemtositdownasshemadeaclearsigntoZarifatobringthecoffeeinquickly.Theywouldsitdownandexchangehasty,abruptwords,almostcuttingeachotheroff,asifthefactofherseverepresencepreventedthemfromholdingmoredrawn-outorrelaxedconversations.Assoonastheyfinishedtheirdatesandcoffeemyauntwouldshiftinherseatandtheywouldgetuptoleaveimmediatelyasifshruggingthedutyofthevisitofftheirshoulders.There

wasanunspokenunderstandingthattheywereabsolutelynottobringtheirchildren.Myauntdespisedchildrenmorethanshedidanythingoranyoneelse.Thesharpcrevicesinmyaunt’sfacecontrastedwithZarifa’sbroad,flat

face.ShewastheonlyonewhotreatedZarifalikeanyotherslaveandwouldneveracknowledgeherstatus–whicheveryonerecognisedevenifnooneeversaidanything–asthepersoninchargeofmyfather’shousehold,nottomentionhislong-timemistress.Myauntwasdetermined,eventhroughoutthelongstretcheswhenmyfatherwasveryill,tositrightoutsidehisroom,oppositethedoorway,justsothatherpresencewouldpreventZarifafromeverslippingintoseehim.Sheandmyfatherpractisedanelaborateritualofmutualrespectthat

wasacutelyembarrassinginitsobviousartificiality.Butfortheselongstringsofgreetingstheyexchanged,whichfollowedexactlythesamepatterneverytime,theyneversaidawordtoeachother.OnlywhenIwasmucholderdidIunderstandtheextenttowhichtheirdemonstrationsofrespectcarriedaprofoundcontemptthatextendedtohatred.IfshewasdirectingasilentwaragainstZarifa,myfather’spresenceandthefactoftheirrelationshipenabledZarifatoshowherenmitytowardmyauntinfrontofus:welittleones,alloftheslaves,andindeedeveryoneinal-Awafi.Zarifausuallyfocusedherdisparagementsofmyauntonherlackofluckwithmen:shehadbeendivorcedtwice,bytwobrothersand,Zarifasaid,thatdry,sticklikebodyofherswasbarren.ButZarifacouldnotcompletelyconcealherfearofmyaunt.Perhaps

that’swhy,soonaftermyfatherdied,shelefttheBigHouseandwenttojoinhersoninKuwait.

Asma

Afterathree-dayshoppingtriptoMuscatwithherprospectiveson-in-lawandhismother,Salimareturnedtoal-AwafiloadeddownwithAsma’sweddingthings,whichshehadgottenfromtheshopsinMatrahwhereyoucouldfindeveryconceivableweddingitem.But,sheconfidedtoMuezzin-Wife,shewasn’toverjoyedwithherpurchases.There’snicerthingsoutthere,shesaid,andAsmadeservesthem.Butherfather–mayGodeasehispath–refusedtosetadowrypaymentforthebridegroom.Ismydaughterapieceofmerchandisetobesold?That’swhathe

snappedatmewhenIasked.Herdowrywillbethesameasanyoneelse’s,hesaidtome.Soherfiancéonlypaidtwothousandriyals,sincehewasn’taskedtocomeupwithanymorethanthat.Hismamawassilentthewholetime.Itseemsthatshe’sbeenawayfromherhometowntoolongtorememberhowwedothingshere.Still,Salimaspreadoutthepurchasesfordisplay,astheywatched:

Asma,Khawla,themuezzin’swife,JudgeYusuf’swidow,UmmNasirandthreemorewomenwholivednearby.TheiroutstretchedhandscompetedtoturnoverandexaminetheshimmeringsilkfabricthatMayyawouldmakeintodishdashasandsirwals,allheavilyembroidered,forthebride.Salimabroughtoutthetranslucentheadwrappings,greenclothembroideredalongtheedgesingoldflowers,andotherswithsequinssewnintotheirborders.Thoughshedidherbesttoresist,atleastforafewminutes,Khawla

hadtoreachfortheshinypairofhigh-heeledsandals:Salimalevelledawarningglanceatherasshetriedthemon.Onceeveryonehadhadhersayaboutthefabrics,Salimaopenedtheperfumechest:twobottlesofFrenchperfumethatSalimahadboughtbecausethemotherofthegroominsisted,thoughshewouldhavepreferredtoputthemoneyintoathird

vialofpureoudperfume.Muezzin-Wifelaughed.Salima,oudhasturnedyoursenses!Surelyone

bottleisenoughforthisbride.Salimaansweredearnestly.Howcanyouhaveabridewithoutplentyof

oud?Lookattheincense,Iboughttwokindsforher:real,pureCambodianaloes-woodoilandthebestincense,fromSalalah.Khawla,heatupsomecoalsandwe’lltryitout.Khawlajumpedupandhurriedtowardthekitchen.Asmawas

muttering.Mama,incensechokesme.Iwishyouhadboughtmemoreperfumeinstead.Quiet,youdon’tunderstandanything,Salimasaid,bringingoutthe

chestthatheldthegold.Didyoueverhearofabridegettingmarriedwithoutincense?Whatanawfulscandalthatwouldbe!Thewomen’sshiningeyesreplicatedanddoubledthegold’slustreas

theyinspectedit:aheavylinknecklace,onewithseveralthinstrands,ringsbearingavarietyofstones,andadiamondring,agiftfromthegroom’smother.Therewerealsothinbanglesandonebroadandheavyspikedbracelet.Inourdaysthejewellerywassilver,remarkedoneoftheneighbours.

PraiseGod–howtimeshavechanged.True,saidanother,itwassilver,butatleastwehadanklets,enoughto

announcethatoneofuswascomingwiththeringingtheymadeagainsteachother,andthebraceletsweworehighuponourarms.Andthehairornaments,too.Salimawasclearlyirritated.Youknowgirlsthesedays,theydon’tlike

wearingankletsorourheavyarmlets.Ofcoursenot,saidAsma.Idon’twanttowearthingsthataregoingto

scratchupmylegsandfeet.Shepickeduphernewjewellery,examiningitwithsomecuriosity.

Whenshesawthegoldbanglewiththespikesshestartedgiggling.Shecouldn’thelprememberingthestoryofJudgeYusuf’swifewithanold-fashionedbraceletlikethis.Atthetime,braceletswereindeedsilverortheymightbeplatedthinlywithgold.Maryam,JudgeYusuf’swidow,had

toldAsmathestoryherself.WAllahi,mydear,Iwasn’tmorethanfourteen.Mymother–Godbe

mercifultoher–cametomeandsaid,Comeon,Maryam,nowpraiseyourLordandputonthesenewclothesofyours,andyournewbraceletsandsilveramulets.Why,Mama?YouaregettingmarriedtoJudgeYusuftoday.Icriedsohardmyeyesswelledup,butnoonepaidanyattentionto

me.Intheeveningallthewomenoftheneighbourhoodswarmedin.Theyweresingingandtheypickedmeupandcarriedmetothejudge,awholeprocessionofthem.Atthedoormymotherbrokeeggsovermyfeetandwhisperedtome:Listen,Maryam,watchoutyoudon’tletthatmanfindyoutooready,likearipewatermelonabouttosplitopen.Youdefendyourself,now,sowecanholdourheadshigh.Youjustgoathimwiththesebraceletsonyourwrist.Yes,hithim,that’sright,don’tbeajuicywatermelonjustwaitingthereforhim.ByGod,mygirl!Asma,Iwentforawholemonthpoundinghimevery

nightwiththosebracelets,bruisinghimuplikemymothertoldmetodo.Hewouldsaytome,Maryam,Maryuuumadear,myMaryuumii,whatdoyouwantmetocallyou?Justtellme!Iwouldn’ttakethosebraceletsoffmywristforanything.Iswungthem

rightinfrontofhisnosewheneverhecamenear.Godgiveyoumercy,AbuAbdal-Rahman!Whatamanoflearninghewas!Hereadallthebooksofreligionandknowledgeandunderstanding,andhetriedsohardtosweetenmeup,thepoorfellow!Maryuuma,hewouldsay,Ijustwanttotalktoyou.Whyareyouattackingme?Listentome,talktome!There’snoreasontoscreamatme,andtoscratchme,everydayandthenext.IfyouhatemethatmuchI’mnotgoingtoforcemyselfonyou.Itwouldnotberightformetoforceyou.Didyourfamilyforceyoutomarryme,Maryam?Doyouhateme,Maryuuma?Wallahi,mygirl,Asma,Ididn’thatehimatall,hewasalotbetterthan

myfatherormybrothersoranyoneelse.Hewastheprotectorofknowledgeandfaith,GodgranthimHislenienceandmakehisgraveas

spaciousashemademyworld!Mydear,Iwasjustlisteningtomymama,onlydoingwhatshesaidtodo.Tryingnottobeasoftwatermelon.Asmawaslaughing.Andso–whathappenedafteramonth,UmmAbd

al-Rahman?Maryamsmiledandwavedthequestionaway.Ahh,amonthlater,my

girl,myAsma–whatwaswrittenbythehandoffatehappened.Itoldyouhewascarefultobeunderstandingandgentle,andIwasjustayounggirl,andtheworldhastomoveahead.Theywerewrittenforus,theseseedsthatmademybellyswell.Abdal-Rahmanandhisbrothersandsisters,Godbemercifultotheirfather,hewasalwayspatientwithme,wheneverytwoorthreedaysI’dgetangrywithhimandgoofftomyfamilywithoutanycauseforit.Hewouldsaytome:You’remywife,Maryuuma,inthisworldandthenext,andyouareasdeartomeasAisha,Godbepleasedwithher,wasdeartotheProphet,God’sprayersandblessingsuponhim.Thejudgediedsoyoung,mypoordearfellow.Thegoodfolksdon’tstaywithuslong,Asmamydear,theyleaveussoquickly.Butpeoplejustwouldn’tkeeptheirmouthsshut.Youareyoung,Maryam,theywouldsay.Marryagain,thelivingstaywithuslongerthanthedead.Allah!No,justimagine–marryagain,afterJudgeAbuAbdal-Rahman?HowcouldIdosuchathing,sinceheusedtosaytome,Youaremywifeinthisworldandthenext,Maryuuma.Inthisworldandinthenext.Khawlacameoutwiththelitcoals.Salimasprinkledincenseoverthem

andheldthemixtureinfrontoftheneighbours,eachinturn.Theybeganteasingeachother,sinceifthesmokeoftheincensecouldbeseenrisingfromtheirgarments,thatmeantSalimawastrulyfondofthem,butifitgotcaughtthereanddidn’trise,itmeantshedidn’tlikethemmuch.Asshemadeherroundstheystartedexclaiming,Heh!Look,theincenseiscomingoutofthesleevesofMuezzin-Wifebutnooneelse’s.Wedon’tgetashareinwhat’sfair!Salimawasoccupiednowinunrollingthehand-workedcushioncovers

forthemtosee,andmeasuringthelengthsofthetwocarpetsshehadboughtafteralongquarrelwiththeIranianshopowner.Khawlaleaned

towardAsmaandwhispered,Abride’strousseaubutnonightgownsormake-up–mypoorsister!Asmawinkedather.There’llbesomewaytogetthembeforethewedding,Iknowit.Salimadescribedthemandusshehadorderedtoherspecifications

fromtheleadingproducerofwoodweddingchests,whosemandusesweremoreelaboratethananyothersaround:theprecisesizeshewanted,exactlywhatkindsofworkshewantedonthewoodandthebrassfittings,andtheshapeofthebrasshandles.Khawlainterruptedher.Buthousesthesedayshavebedrooms,alreadywithabedandwardrobeanddressingtable.Atthat,Muezzin-Wifeexclaimed,AskGod’sforgivenessforwhatyoujustsaid!Mygoodness,nothingpleasesgirlsthesedays–mygirl,abridewithoutamandusisn’tabride.Afterall,thatmandusofherswillkeepherincensefreshforyears.BeforetheneighbourlygatheringbrokeupSalimagaveeachofthema

headwrapfromthehundredshehadboughttohandouttothewomenofal-Awafi:neighbours,thepoor,relativesandotherswhoweren’trelatedtoher,mistressesofthetown’shouseholdsandthewomenofslavefamilies.

Abdallah

SecondsafterIhitSalimIwasassailedbyaterribleandoverwhelmingsensethatIhadjustbecomemyfather’stwin.Twodayslater,MayyamadeapointofmentioningthatSalimhadnotbeendrunkatall.Hehadhadashock,whilespendingtheevening–mostofthenight,really–withhisfriendsinacaféinupscaleal-Qurm,wherethemusicwasprobablyveryloud.Lateintheevening,thepatronshaddwindled.Sittingonhisown,drinkinglemonadewithmint,hesuddenlysawahandlandingonthetableedge,pressingagainstitforsupport.Itwasimpossibletoignore:thefingernailswerepaintedaglitterysilver.WhenSalimraisedhisheadayoungmanwasstaringathim,asmuchasonecouldstarethroughhalf-closedeyes.Hewasdressedentirelyinblack–Versaceshirt,Armanijeans–andnowthatSalimwaslookingathim,hespoke,hismurmurmorelikeapurr.Onelook,man,justone,slayme.Salimconcentratedonthelemonadeinhishands,buthecouldn’tstop

himselfshiveringwhentheyouthbentcloseroverhim,tossingafancycardontothetable.Anumberbutnoname.Salimignoredhim.Wherehadhisfriendsdisappearedto?Maybetheyweresomewhereatanothertable,playingcards?Theyoungmandidn’tleave.Hestoodnearby,sighingloudly.When

Salimdidn’treact,hemadeashowofputtingthecarddownagainonthetable.FinallySalimhadtospeak.Go–goawayoffnow.Rightnow.Theyouthwhisperedback.Iknow...Idon’tdeserveeventhenailson

yourtoes,Iknowthat...Idon’tdeserveaglance...HeleanedcloserintoSalim.AllahAllahyahabibi,thefireinsideme,it’swhitehot,havesomemercy.

WhenSalimhurriedtohiscarandshotaway,theboy’sPorschewasrightbehindhim,throughthenight-timestreetsofMuscat.Salimfinallylosthiminasidestreetanddrovehome.Theclocksaid2am,andIwaswaitingforhiminthesittingroom.Ihithim,myvoicetautwithanger.Outsolate,areyou?Justwaitingtodisobeyme?Yourfather’srules?

Ankabuta

Onthe25thofSeptember1926,Ankabutawasroamingthesparseexpanseoutsideoftown,bendingovertopickupthefewbranchesshecouldfind,whenthefirstpangscame.Asshesawtothebirthofherowndaughter,witharustyknifetoseparatethebaby’slifefromherown,themengatheredinGenevasignedanaccord.Theirsignaturesabolishedslaveryandcriminalisedtheslavetrade.ItwasAnkabuta’sfifteenthbirthdaybutshewasasunawareofthatasshewasthattheworldheldaplacecalledGeneva.Ankabutarippedherdustyheadveilinhalftomakeawrappingforher

newbornbaby,andshestuffedtheotherhalfupherselftostoptheblood.Barefoot,herfaceuncovered,shewalkedbacktoal-Awafi.AtShaykhSaid’shouse–whichwiththebirthhadjustgainedanotherslave-girl–thewomenhelpedherinside.Ankabutalaydownonthereedmattingandwitnessedherdaughter’sdate-feedingritual.Thewomenhadcrushedadateandputitgentlyinthenewborn’smouth,takingitoutsecondslater,justaswomenoftheProphet’stime,they’dalwaysheard,haddone.Whentheylaythebabydownbesideher,Ankabutaburstintotearsatthesightofthetinywrinkledbodywrappedinhalfherheadscarf.Itwastheonlyclothsheownedthathadn’tbeenrippedapartbythewoodshehadtogather.Yes,itwasonlyawhiteone–notdyedindigolikeherotherone,whichwasnearlyinshreds–butitwasstronglywovenandhelditsshape.Ifithadn’tturnedthecolourofdustshewouldhavesaiditwasnew,andnowhereshehadlostit.Aweeklatertheshaykhannouncedthatthenewborngirl’snamewas

Zarifa.Unfortunately,becausethingshadbeensobadsincethespoilageofthedateharvest,hewouldnotbeinapositiontoslaughteraritualanimal.SixteenyearslaterhewouldsellthegirltoMerchantSulayman.

Shewouldbecomeaslaveworkerandaconcubine.Shewouldbehisbeloved,andtheonlywomanwhowaseverclosetohim,whilehewastheonlymanshewouldloveandrespect,andthatuntilthedayofherdeath.InhimshesawherliberatorfromtheinsultsofShaykhSaid’ssons,andthebelovedwhoshowedherthepleasuresofthebody,astheinstigatorofthegameofharshnessandjealousy.Intheend,hewastheelderlyshaykhwhoreturnedtoherembracetodie.

Abdallah

AtfirstZayidwascomingbacktoal-AwafieveryFriday,handingoutfruit,eventohisneighbours.Hehardlyevertookoffhisuniform,evenwhenhewaswithSuwayd,listeningtohimplayhisoud.ButwhennoonepouredcoffeeforhimatthewakeafterZayddied,leavinghimtopourithimself,heknewthatthevillagerswouldneverseehimasarealofficer.IntheireyeshewouldalwaysbeZayid,thesonofManeen,thewretchwhobeggedfromfolks.Al-Awafi’speoplewerefirmbelieversinthepast;theydidnotlooktothefuture.GraduallyZayidstoppedengaginginthelifeofthevillage.AfterhefoundanIndianmaidservantforhisfather,hisvisitsdwindled,untilhewasonlymakingtheobligatoryappearancesonthemajorholyfeastdays.Yearsafterhisfather’smurderweheardsuddenlythatZayidhadgot

married.Hedidnotcomebacktoal-Awafifortheoccasion.Hisbride–Hafiza’ssecondandprettiestdaughter–becamehiswifewithacelebrationattheMuscatSheraton.Theweddingpartyhearrangedtherewasnotattendedbyanyonefromtheirvillageexceptthebride,hertwosistersandhermother.Hafizacouldn’thavebeenmorethanseventeenwhenshegotpregnant

forthefirsttime.HermotherSaadaseizedherbyherhairandstartedpummellingher,buttheneighbourwomenwinkedandletSaadaknowwhatthewordwasintheneighbourhood.Nosurpriseshere,Saada,she’scutfromthesamecloth!Beforeher,itwasherfather’ssister,theslutwasalwayslollinginthestreets,wasn’tshe?Sohermotherleftheralone.Whenthebabygirlslippedoutofhermama’sbody,herskinseveralshadesdarkerthanhermother’sorgrandmother’s,SaadaaskedHafizaagain.Whoisthisbastard’sfather?Hafizaansweredasshehadbefore.Itoldyou,Mama,ifitwasn’tZaatarthenitwaseitherMarhunorHabib.

Hermothershookherheadandlefthertoherowndevices.WhenHafizaemergedfromherfortydaysofconfinementJudgeYusuf

sentencedhertoahundredlashes.HermotherstuffedabigcanvassackwithwhateveroldragsandshirtsshecouldfindandtieditontoHafiza’sbackhopingshewouldn’tfeelthelashes.Isnuckinalongwiththeotherboys–wehidamongthecrowdsthathadcollectedtowatchthepunishmentcarriedout.Butnoteventwoyearslater,Hafizadeliveredherseconddaughter.Thistime,thebabyhadverypaleskin.Andthesentencechanged.Bythen,JudgeYusufwasamagistrateunderthejurisdictionoftheSultan,thoughearlierhehadregardedhimselfasissuinghisjudgementsunderthelastImamGhalibbinAli’sauthority,evenaftertheImamwasdefeatedandhadtoleaveOman.TheSultan’sgovernmentdidnotprescribetheShariapunishmentsforadultery,andsoJudgeYusufdidnotorderthewomanwhipped.SomeoftheeldersproposedthatHafizabesenttoprisonbutnoonepaidmuchattentionanymore.PeoplewhisperedthatthenewbornlookedalotlikeShaykhSaid’syoungestson:shewashisspittingimage,infact,theysaid.Yetagain,though,Hafizasaidshewasn’tcertainwhothefatherwas.That’swhenshegothernickname,Basish-Shaab,Everyone’sBus.Threemoreyearsandherthirddaughterappeared.Thisonelookedmoreorlesslikeherownmother,andshewasthelastofthedaughters.Soonafter,someonesteeredHafizatobirthcontrolpills.DidIdozeoff?WhyamIsothirsty?Zarifausedtowarnmeabout

goingtosleepthirsty.Thesleeperwho’sparched,shewouldalwayssay,findshissoulhaslefthimtosearch,lookingforsomethingtoquenchhisthirst.Ialwaysdranktwoorthreeglassesofwaterbeforegoingtobed,afraidthatmysoulwouldleavemeandneverreturn,likethemanwhofellasleepthirstyandhissoullefthimtodrinkfromabigwaterjar.Whileitwasintheredrinkingthelidwasclampedoverthissoulofhis.Itcouldn’tgobacktohim.Astheyweregettingreadytoburyhimthenextmorning,someoneliftedthelidtogetadrinkhimself,andtheman’ssoulcamerushingbacktohim.AfterIstolemyfather’srifleforthemagpiesthatInevertasted,my

fatherhungmeupsidedownandtiedupinthewell,topunishme,andIdidgotosleepeventhoughIwasverythirsty.Manynightmareslater,Masoudafinallyrelentedandtoldmeaboutmymother.Abdallah,myboy,theproverb-makersays:Daytime’sforpeoplebut

night-time’sforthejinn.Yourmama,Godresthersoulinparadise,wasoutwalkingatnight.Shejustflungawayapebblethatgotinhersandalperhaps.Shedidn’tknowit,butshe’dhitthejinni-woman’ssoninthehead.Thatjinni-womanwastheservantoftheShaykhsoftheJinn.Shecametoyourmamaandshesaid,Pullupthebasilbushinthecourtyard,itssmelldrawsvipers,andsoonyoursonwillgetoldenoughtoplaythereandhe’llbebitten.Yourmama,Godtakehersoultoparadise,thoughtthejinni-womanwasapoorandordinarywomanandshebelievedher.Soatdawnshecutdownthebasilbush,whichangeredtheShaykhoftheJinnwholivedbeneathit.Hemadethepoorwomansick.Twoorthreedays,nomore,andshewasdead,mayGodkeephersoulinParadise.WhenIgotolder,andwhenShannatriedtotemptmeoutonthefarm

andIsaidno,shepulledherclothestogetheraroundherselfandscreamed,Yourmamaisn’tdead,she’salive!Theybewitchedherandthentheytookheraway.Theyputaplankofwoodwhereshe’dbeenlyingdown,andyourpapaburiedit,andsoyourmotherlosthermind.Thewizardtookhermindawayandmadeherhisservant.Myfathersawheronceatnight,outsidetown.Shewasallinwhite.

Salima

WhenSalimahadfinishedarrangingherdaughterAsma’sweddingthingssheclosedthedoortotheworldoutsideandbrokedowninsobs.Shefeltasuddenlongingforherfatherandmother.SalimahadgivenbirthtoKhawla,theyoungestofhergirls,justasher

ownmotherwasgivinguphersoul.Really,though,hermotherhaddiedalongtimebefore,tenyearsatleast,whenamessengerappearedtoinformherthatheronlyson,Muaadh,haddiedasamartyrinthewarofJabalAkhdar.Shehadn’tbeengivenachancetosayhergoodbyes.WhenMuaadhfledthehomeofhisuncleShaykhSaid,beforetheend

ofhissixteenthyear,hisunclewasfurious.So,then,hishunchesabouttheboyhadproventrue!He’dknownthatboywouldsplittherodofobediencetojointhetribesalliedwiththeImam,thumbinghisnoseathisuncle’salliancewiththeopposingtribes.Wheneverpeopleweregathered,ShaykhSaidmadecertaintoproclaim

loudlythatheborenoresponsibilityforhisbrother’sson.Hehadnoguilt.Doesthatidiotbelievetakingshelterinal-Jabalal-AkhdarwiththeImamandhisgroupwillsavehim,oranyofthem,fromthewarplanesoftheEnglish?herepeatedinfrontofanyonewithearstohearhim.ThoseEnglishhaveplanesandweapons.Whatdotheyhave,intheGreenMountain?TheSibTreaty,signedin1920,dividedOmanintoaninteriorruledas

anImamateandaGovernmentofMuscatthatretaineditstraditionaljurisdictionovermuchofthecoastalplains.Muscat’sSultanwasfinancedbytheEnglish.TheTreatywasrespectedforquitealongtime.ButthentheSultansignedanagreementwithaBritishfirmforexploratoryoildrillingintheFahuddesert,whichwaswellwithintheImamate’sterritories.Thecompanyformeditsowndefenceunit,whichcametobe

knownastheMuscat-OmanInfantry.Andsoimperialistgreedlitthewickofwar,whenthecompanyarmymarchedintoIbriandsoonbeganstrafingterritoriesloyaltotheImamistate,intheregionsofNazwaandNakhal.In1955theImamGhalibal-Hana’iandhisfollowers–warriorsdrawnfromalliedtribes–wereforcedtotakerefugeintheGreenMountain.That’swhenMuaadhslippedoutofal-Awafiandjoinedthefightersin

theJabal.Hestayedtherethrough1959,oneofabandofguerrillafightersharassingtheRoyalBritishAirForcedefences.Theresistancehadonlytheirtraditionalweapons,butatleasttheycouldkeepothersoutoftheJabal.MuaadhwastaskedwithlightingfiresindesertedareastoconvincetheEnglishthattherewerefightersthere;theideawasthattheywoulduseuptheirammunitionmountingattacksagainstphantomplatoons.OnenightMuaadhsteppedonasmallmineashewasreturningfromamission.Heexplodedintofragments,oneofmorethantwothousandmartyrswhodiedinthewartocontroltheJabal.Therewasn’tevenabodytoreturnforhismothertomournover.Shereceivedthenewsofhisdeathinsilentsubmission.Shearranged

thefuneralritesaswellasshecouldinhermodestcircumstances,forhisunclerefusedtooffertheslightesthelportomourn.Shedied,thoughnooneknewshewasdead.Everydayandeverynight,fortenyears,shediedalittlemore.Shebreathedandateanddrankbutshewasdead.Shespoketopeopleandwalkedamongthem,dead.Onlymuchlaterdidherbodygiveupitsalready-deceasedspirit,itsdeadspirit,nolongerforcedtopretend,toplayatbeingalive.

Abdallah

Myheadisunderwater.ThisheadachelaysintomeeverytimeIhavetofly.Ifeelconfusedandunabletofocus,andeverythinginfrontofmeappearstobesubmergedinwater.ThenIsensemyselfbeingflippedupsidedown.I’minawell,headdown,andthatheavypalm-fibreropeiswoundaroundmybody.Myskullcrashesagainstthemurkyblackinteriorwall.I’mterrifiedthattheropewillunravel,willweaken,willbreakanddropmetotheverybottom.WhydidIstealthegun?WhydidIwantthemagpiessobadly?Frommyunderwaterheadpourthemany-colouredplasticblocksthat

Muhammadplayswith.Hehastohavethemlinedup,nogaps.Ifthereisanyalterationtothewaytheyarearranged,evenoneblock,hescreamsandscreams,nopauses.Screaming,Muhammadscreaming.WhenUncleIshaq’swifewentintothebathroomoftheirhomeinWadi

Adaytowashbeforethedawnprayersshefoundhersoninthere.PureMarwan’sveinswerecutopenwithhisfather’sdagger.Shescreamedandscreamed.WhenmyfathergaveuphissoulintheNahdaHospital,Zarifa

screamedandthesoundwentonandon.Ididn’tscreamthen,Ididn’tcry.Onlywhenhehungmeheaddowninthewell.Icanseemyselfasalittlechild.Aboybutlikealittlemanindisguise,

wearingaman’sdaggerandaperfectlyfittedturban,andbrand-newshoes.Myfather’shandleadsmesomewherefaraway.ToIbri.Wearerespondingtotheinvitationofashaykhthere.Habibwaswithus–itwasbeforehefled,ofcourse–andsowasSuwaydandtheBedouinwhoownedthetwocamelswerode.Suwayd’soudwasnotwithus,though;perhapsithadn’tyetcometohim.Itmusthavebeenbeforethejinniwomanfellforhim,offeringtoansweronesinglewish.Theoud.The

bewitchingoudwhosesadtunesrubbedacrossmychildhoodandscoredtherawlonelinessofmyadolescence.Theoudwasthegiftofthejinniwoman,andsoSuwaydcouldn’tplayanyotherinstrument,onlythatone,solitarylute.No,therewasnooudwithusonthattrip.Therewasaclothbundleholdingdriedsharkfleshthatpeopleateonjourneys,andsomeonions,andaboxofdates.Therewasawaterskin,alotofsand,andsinging.Habibwassinging,inanunfamiliarlanguage,Baluchimaybe?Itwascheerlesssingingandhisvoicewouldchoke,comingoutinawail,whenhereachedsomerefrains.Itsoundedmorelikecryingthansinging.Beforehefled,HabibtoldZarifathatsongsweretheonlythingleftinhismemorytokeephislanguagealiveforhim.That’swhyhesang.Ifhedidn’thavesongsinthere,allthehollowspaceswouldbefilledwithrage.ThereIwas,ayoungfellowdisguisedintheuniformofhiselders,the

solerepresentativeofmyfather’sseed,paradedforthebenefitoftheShaykhsofIbri.Inthesouq,though,Icouldhardlyresistrevertingtomychildhoodstate,facedwiththeheapsofsweetcoconutspreadacrossthestonebenchestodry,andwellwithinmyreach.ButIhadtoreturntotheawfuldignityofmyearlymanhoodthenextday,atthebigmiddaymealwiththesemen.Itriedtositexactlythewayoldmensitinthemajlismeetingplace,myweightononelegwhileIfoldedtheotherlegbeneathme,watchful,knowingImustn’tchangemypositionnomatterhownumbmylegswouldgo,becauseIhadtoshowthehardnessofmen.Ididextendmyhandstotheenormousplatterofricearoundwhichwesat,butIfeltsoshythatmyfingerscouldhardlygraspanything,bringingonlyafewgrainsofriceallthewaybacktomymouth.SometinybiteslaterIfinallysummonedenoughboldnesstoreachthemeatpiledupovertherice,securingatinymorsel.Itriedtomakecertainmyfathersawit.WhentheplatterwasliftedawayIwashungrybuthappy,certainthatmyfatherwouldbesatisfiedwithme.Hehadcautionedmeearlier:theShaykh’sfamily,neighboursandslaveswouldbewaitingexpectantlyfortheirshare,whateverremainedofthesameplatteroffoodthathadbeenofferedtous.Myheadwasn’thangingupsidedown,then,anditwasn’tsubmergedin

water.Mybrainandheartweren’tsearchingdesperatelyforasliveroflandsomewhere,anywherefromMuscattoSib,whereIcouldbuildthehouseofmywife’sdreams.Wecouldn’tmanagetogetthelotshereallyliked.Themunicipalauthoritiesrefused,claimingthatexactlythisbitoflandwasslatedforfutureuse:itfellwithintheareadesignatedforanewrapid-transitlightrailsystem.Theplanningdocumenthadalreadybeensignedoffatthehighestlevel,bytheSultan’sCabinetitself.Myheadissplittingnow,andthecabinpressurewillcertainlydetonate

it,untilitexplodeswideopen.WhydoInevercarryheadacheremedieswithme,likealltherestofGod’stravellingcreaturesdo?IntheShaykh’shouse,myhandtouchedthemeatonlyafterhavinga

dozenorsolittlebitesthatwereonlyrice,tosoarinthestratosphereofmyfather’sapproval.Wewerenearlyhomewhenadesertviperlungedatme.Ifmyfatherhadn’timmediatelybornedownonitwithhiscane,killingitthenandthere,itwouldhavebittenmetodeath.Whenmypapahuggedmesointenselyithurt,myeyeswereopentotheirwidestand,mynosecrushedagainsthim,Ibreathedintheparticularsmellofhisdishdasha.IcouldseestarsdroppingfromGod’sskytoclingtohisturbansohardthattheyblendedintoitsornaments.Ihadneverinmylifeseenasouq.Theoneshopinal-Awafi,andthe

festivalsweetbiscuitslaidoutonwoodenplanksattheedgeofthespacewherereligiousceremonieswerealwaysheld–thatwasallIknew.TheIbrisouqwassimplyacorridoroffacingshops,orperhapstheseweremorelikewarehousessinceIcouldn’tseeanymerchantsinside,waitingforcustomers.Theysatonmatsonthegroundoronthestonebenchesoutsidetheirshops,withvariousbasketsofdifferentsizeslinedupbeforethem,carryingavarietyofgoods:drieddates,spices,driedlemons,redpeppers,barley.Sometimestherewouldalsobeatrayortwoofdriedcoconut.I’mcertainitwasthoseenormoustinplattersofdriedcoconutthatpreservedmymemoryofthatdaysovividlythatIcanstillseeitandsmellitevennow:thesouqexactlyasitlookedthen.Closingmyeyes,Icanseethetreetrunksandthearcingdate-palmfronds,creatingavaultoverheadthatknittedthetwoseparaterowsofshopsintooneentity.I

canseetheironhooksfromwhichwoolcarpetswerehung,andthebaskets,leatherpelts,reedmats,andeventhedriedfishwhosesharpodourstillcomestomeinstantly.Boysscamperedhereandthere,mostoftenwearingtheleatherbeltsthatalreadyawaitedthedaggersthey’dreceiveindaystocome.Themerchantsexchangednews,staredatpeopleindifferentlyandwavedtheircanesintheair.Whatdrewmygazewastheredcoloursoftheirturbans,thejumbleofsmells,theheapsofcoconut.Ilikeditall.Directlyonthegroundsatthebarber,ramrodstraight,aturbanonhis

headandadaggerinhisbelt,sleevesrolleduptoshowhisbareforearms.Hiscustomersatdownfacinghimbutleavingenoughspacethathecouldbendforwardslightly,signallingthathewasreadytoentrusthisheadtothebroadlygrinningbarber.Unlikethebarber,hiscustomerwasn’tsittingonbaregroundbutonaraggedsquareofroughcanvasontowhichhisshavenhairwouldfall.Thebarberhadhistoolslaidoutnexttohimonanancientwoodchestalongwithasmallbucketofwaterwhichhesprinkledonthecustomer’shead.Whenthecustomeraroseitwasinvariablywithashavenheadsincethisbarberhadnoexperienceactuallycuttinghair.Allhecoulddowasshaveittotheroots.Idon’tknowwhatrousedallofthosesmellsinmeasMayyaandI

stoodonthevergewatching.Averyfinelargevillawasgoingupontheplotoflandthatshehadchosenandthemunicipalityhadrefusedtoselltous–thelandwhichwasincludedinthefutureplanningforthegovernorate’smulti-lanehighway.Hah!explodedMayya.Sothelandwassoldafterall!Whathappenedtothecityplanning,tothedocumentsignedbytheCabinet?Howmuchwillthemunicipalitypaynowtochangethefastline’sroute,nowthatthey’vegiveninsoveryrespectfullytothedemandsofwhoeveritwaswhowantedthislandforhisvilla?Ididn’tsayanything.ThesmellsoftheoldsouqinIbrifilledmylungs.Thisheadacheisaffectingmyhearing.WhenIwaslittle,myfather’s

handonmyheadcouldabsorbmyheadache.Layinghishandthere,hewouldrepeatthewordsfromtheQur’an:ToHimbelongseverythingthatrestsquietly,inthenightasbyday.Myheadwouldgrowquiet,atrest,

andthepainwouldgoaway.Butmyfather’sveinedhandswelledundertheintravenousneedlesin

theNahdaHospitalandcouldnolongerreachformyhead,splittinginpain,unabletogivewaytosleep.ThehandofBill,theEnglishteacher,wasnotheavilyveined.Itwas

coveredwithminutefreckles.ItwasBillwhoconvincedmeImustlearnEnglish.WemetatadinnerpartyorganisedbyoneoftheMuscatmerchants.InserviceableArabic,Billqueriedme.Youareabusinessmanandyoudon’tknowEnglish?NorestaurantinMuscatwillserveyouifyoudon’thaveanylanguage!Hewasright.AndIwastiredoftheacuteembarrassmentIfeltwheneverItriedtoreserveahotelroom,orwasinvitedtodinneratarestaurant.Inmyowncountry!MyArabcountry,whererestaurants,hospitalsandhotelsallannouncedthat‘onlyEnglishisspokenhere’.IstartedprivatelessonswithBill.Hisblueeyesgavenothingawaybut

hissmileseemedpromising.BeforegettingtoknowhimIwouldneverhaveimaginedthataperson’ssmilecouldrevealhisintelligence,butBill’ssmilegaveformtoashrewdmind.Myfatherdidnotsmile.Orperhapshedidsmile,alittle,onceinavery

greatwhile.IfhismouthdidbegintocurveIwouldfeelinstantcontentment,butthesparkybrilliancehiseyesgaveoffawakenedonlymyterror.Iwouldneverbethatsmart,nomatterhowmuchIstudiedorlearned.Iwouldalwaysbethegulliblelittleboy,orthedeludedladwhowouldneverknowhowtomanagethefamilybusinessandwouldneverhavehispapa’sbrains.Thatastutegaze,thatsmilehintingsuchcleverness–Isearchinmychildren’sfaces,butIneverseemyfather’sexpressionsthere.London?Perhaps,ifonlyshehadn’tgottenmiredinAhmad’slies.WheneverIthinkofthatwholeaffairIfeelsoangrythatIalmostcan’t

breathe.WhenMayyadiscoveredtheyweretalking,shesmashedLondon’smobile,lockedherinherroom,andslappedherasshehadneverslappedanyonebefore.After,sheremainedonhighalert,readytodetecttheslightestvibrationintheair.ButstubbornLondoninsistedon

herlove.Whydoesitstillpainmesomuch?Afterall,itisover,isn’tit?DoesithurtbecauseIgaveintoher,allowingthetwoofthemtosignamarriagecontract?OrbecauseIdidn’tsupporther,didn’tstandupforherlove,fromtheverybeginning?OrbecauseIscoldedherforchoosinghim,butonlyafteritwentbad?AmIhurtingbecauseheharmedher?OrisitbecauseMayyaneverknewloveandsoshedidnotknow,whenLondonfellinlove,howtodealwithherdaughter?Didn’tyouatleasthavesomenotionofwhatloveis,Mayya?Didn’tyou

feelsomethingofwhatIwentthroughasIpacedaroundyourfamilyhomelikeapilgrimcirclestheKaaba,once,twice,seventimes?Howcouldthehouseeverbespaciousenoughtoholdallofmy

passion?Howdiditssinglebalconybearupunderme,asIstoodtherealone,weighteddownbysomuchlove,withoutcollapsingontothedirtstreetorfragmenting,tobecarriedoffbythebreezesintoGod’sheavens?HowdidthesmallroombearthetonsofcloudsIkeptstoredawayinthere,simplysothatIcouldwalkacrossthem?Howdidthewallsstaystillandunshakeable,neveroncequakingwiththetormentofmyunbearablejoy?ButeverythingremainedinitsplaceevenifIhadnoplace.Thedoors

didnotflyofftheirhingesevenifmycastdownbodywasriddledwiththelivebulletsofdesperatelove.Thewindowsdidnotshatter,thoughmywingsbeathardagainsttheglass,strongenoughtosoarfromthefrontwindowtothefurthestspeckonthehorizon.Thehousewasroomyenoughtoholdme,tocontainthescreamofdesirethatechoedinsideme.Thenhowcoulditbe,Mayya,thatyoureyes,fixedonyoursewing

machine,nevercouldseethevastandtortuousexpanseofmylove,andmyimprisonedself?

Asma

Stilldrowsy,Asmaopenedhereyesslowly.Secondslater,sherememberedthattodaywasherweddingday.Shestretched,pressedherhandsagainstherstomach,andsmiledatthethoughtthatafewmonthsfromnowitmightwellberoundedandfull.Gettingup,shefoldedupherbedding,hungitonthepegandhurriedtothekitchen.Herfatherlikedtohavehiscoffeeassoonashe’dcomefromdawnprayers.Asmafoundhermothersittingonthewornstepsleadingintothe

kitchen.Salima’sdistractedairstartledherdaughter.Sheneverallowedherselftolosecomposure,evenmomentarily;Asmahadoftenwonderedhowshecoulddoit.Wishinghergoodmorning,hermother’svoicecamefaintly.Inthekitchenthecoffeewasalreadybubblingontheflame,thecardamomreadynexttoit.SomethingwaswrongbutAsmacouldn’tfigureoutwhatitwas.Her

fatherdrankhisusualtwocupsofcoffeeandglancedatherashegnawedonthedatesthatinvariablybeganhisday.Asmadidn’tfeeluncomfortableorembarrassed,asperhapswasexpectedofheronsuchaday,butshedidsensesomekindofsilentrebukeinhiseyes.Itsetoffavaguefeelingofremorse,orperhapsofguilt,butagain,shecouldn’tidentifywhattheproblemwas.Onhermother’sorderssheshutherselfinherroom.Noonemustsee

thebridebeforeherwedding.Mayyahadbeeninseclusionforanentireweekandnotasinglewomanfromtheneighbourhoodhadgottenaglimpseofherbeforetheeveningofherwedding.Asmabreathedoutalongsigh.PraisebetoGodthathermotherhadn’tinsistedonisolatingherforawholeweek!AllSalimahaddonewastoforbidAsmatoleavethehouse,butthatwasmoreorlessineffectallthetime,anyway,soitseemedabitofajokeasamaternalrulingfortheweekprecedingthe

wedding.DidshewantAsmatoknowthevalueofthefreedomthatmarriagewouldgiveher?She’dbeoneofthewomennow,andfinallyshewouldhavetherighttocomeandgo,tomixfreelywiththeolderwomenandlistentotheirtalk,toattendweddings,allofthem,nearandfar,andfuneralstoo.Nowshewouldbeoneofthewomenwhosataroundtheircoffeeinthelatemorningsandthenagainattheendoftheday.Shewouldbeinvitedtolunchanddinner,andshewouldissueherowninvitations,sinceshewasnolongermerelyagirl.Marriagewasheridentitydocument,herpassporttoaworldwiderthanhome.Whenyounger,shehadalwayseagerlywelcomedthedateharvestasan

opportunitytogooutandenjoyherselfwiththeothergirls.Earlyinthemorningtheywouldwalkoutsideal-Awafitothefarms,movingfromonetothenext,inspectingtheripeningdatesastheywereseparated,cleanedandsorted.Thegirlscouldplaywiththeunriperedonesandsplasharoundinthemovingwaterthatthecanalsystemsentfromonefieldtothenext,accordingtoafixedwaterdistributionschedulewhichguaranteedstrictfairness.Butthegreatestfunawaitedthemattheendoftheday,intheopenspaceamidstthefarmswherethefaaghuurwasmade.Shehadalwaysfounditacaptivatingsight,Asmaremembered:thestreamofunripedatespouringintotheenormouscauldronsofboilingwater.Sheandherfriendscompetedtoguesswhichonewouldbereadyfirst.Atthatpoint,themenremovedthehotmasswithpalm-fibreladles,spreadingitoutinthesunsothatitwoulddry,whereuponitwouldbepackedandshippedtoMuscatwheregovernmentbuyerspurchaseditforexporttoIndia.Asmadidn’tlikeitstaste,preferringdatesthatwerefresh.Peopleinal-Awafibitintofaaghuuronlytotestthatthey’dgottenitrightandcertainlynotforanyotherreason.Notwhentheycouldeatripedates.Asmaandherfriendsspenttheentireharvestdayrunningaroundinplay,shimmyingupthesmallerpalmtreesandswingingfrompalm-fibreropestiedbetweentwotrunks.Theydelightedinannoyingthewomenworkinginthefields,pickingthroughthedatestheywouldcarrybackattheendofthedayinlargebundlesontheirheads,orcollectingtherottingdatesleftbehind,fillinglargesacks

thattheywoulddragawaytofeedtotheirsheeportoselltootherswhoownedsheep.AsmacouldrememberhowshehadrippedaholeinFattum’ssackclothwithoutFattumknowingit.Asshewalked,therottendatesfallingfromhersacktracedalonglinebehindher.Fordaysafterward,Asma’sfriendslaughedattheimageofit.ButAsmahadgrownup.Shenolongerwenttotheharvestgames.Nowshedidn’tevengooutforthefirstdayofthemonthofDhual-Hijjatosingwithherfriends.

Muhammadhascomedowntothewadi

withoutanywaterorfood

Muhammadhascometoparadisenow

Andthehouris’daughtersareafterhim.

MygreetingsandprayersI’vegiventheProphet

MygreetingsandprayerstotheMessenger

Onthismorningitwasn’tlongbeforethehousewasechoingwiththevoicesofthewomenwhohadcometocarryhertrousseautothegroom’shome.TheyfilledthepickupthatEmigrantIssahadrentedfromaBedouin.Asma’stwocasesandhermanduswentin,alongwiththeembroideredpillowsandtwoPersiancarpets.Thefirstcasecarriedhernewclothes.ThesecondonehardlyheldanythingbutthebottleofFrenchperfume,thealoes-woodoilandthevarietiesofincensehermotherhadselected.Buthermotherinsistedonthetwocasesanyway,asasigntoallthatherdaughter’strousseauwasgenerousandworthy.Mayyawentalongwiththewomentoarrangehersister’sbelongingsin

hernewhome,whichAsmahadnotyetseen.ThebrideremainedbehindherfirmlycloseddoorwithKhawlaandaneighbourwomanwhowasinchargeofthecrucialmatterofhenna.Thoughtsofmotherhood,hernewclothes,thewomendancing,andwhatitwouldbeliketoleaveherchildhoodhomehadallwanderedthroughAsma’smind,butshehadn’tgivenathoughttoKhalid,herlong-awaitedbridegroom.Afewweeksbefore,whenhermotherhadinformedheroftheengagement,shehadconsideredthemattercalmlyandgivenherconsent.

Whensheandherfatherquotedpoetryateachother,eachonetryingtooutdotheother,Asmasometimesrepeatedlinesoflovepoetry,orifshedidn’t,herfatherdid.Shealwaysreadtohiminthewinterevenings,especiallyfromthecollectionofpoetrybythegreatwordartistal-Mutanabbi.Theywouldsmiletogetherattheopeninglinesofhisodes,onthelover’sgriefathisbeloved’sabsence,andhislonging.ButshewasnotasattachedtotheArabictraditionoflovepoetry,withitsflightsofcoyfancy,asherfatherwas.Norwassheparticularlydrawntothelovescenesinthefewnovelsshehadread.AfriendofhersfoundtheseatasmallbookstoreinMuscatbutwhenAsmatriedtoreadthemshefoundthemtoounrealisticandforeigntointeresther.ThelastnovelshehadreadwassomethingcalledSecretsofthePalacewhichtookplaceineighteenth-centuryFrance.Itwasallaboutroyalpassions–pleasure,betrayal,mirth.Asmadidn’tfinditconvincing.Shepreferredwhatsheconsideredmorerealisticbooks.Buttheonetextshehadfoundtrulymemorableandcompellingwasthepassageshehadmemorisedwithoutevenreallyunderstandingwhatitmeant.Somethingaboutspiritsorsoulsthatwereperfectlyroundonceuponatimebuthadbeensplitapart.Foraslongastheywereseparatedtheywouldsearchouttheirotherhalfuntiltheyfoundit.Thatishowsheimaginedlove:ameetingofspirit-twins.Shecertainlyneverimaginedexperiencingalovesofiercethathernightswouldstretchaslongasthenightsoftheloversinal-Mutanabbi’spoems,ornightsfilledwithworriesandcareslikeImru’l-qays’snights.Shewantedtomarrysomeonewhostoodoutfromothers,adifferentorderofbeing,butwhowouldalsogiveherasenseofsecurityandordinariness.Shewouldlovehim,ofcourse,andshecouldhavethemotherhoodshewantedsomuch.Herheartwasvacantenough,sowhywoulditnotopenupforKhalid?

Shedidconfesstoherselfthatshe’dnoticedMarwan,thecousinofhersisterMayya’shusband.Shehadseenhimonafewoccasions,andeachtime,shewastakenwiththesenseoftranquilpuritythatthisfigureinwhiteradiated,asilhouettewhohardlyspokeaword.Infactitwashismysteriousnessthatignitedherdreams.Shewasawarethatherglimpses

ofhimhadbeenfew.Anyway,onthelastfeastdaywhenhehadcometopayhisrespectstothefamily,she’dbeenabitfrightenedbytheexpressioninhiseyes.Shedidn’tunderstandherfeelingsbutsheknewhisgazescaredher.Therewassomethingoddbeneaththesurfaceofhissilence.Shestoppedthinkingabouthim.Khalid...Khalid,thehorseartist.Hewascertainlysomeoneoutofthe

ordinary,asshehadfancied.Hisfather,Issa,hadacquiredhisnicknameof‘Emigrant’byleavingOmanforEgyptin1959afterthedefeatofImamGhalibal-Hina’iinthewaroftheJabalal-Akhdar.LikenearlytwothousandotherOmanifamilieswhofled,fearingtheEnglishandtheirruthlessmanipulationsofpower,IssahoistedtheburdenofhislittlefamilyontohisshouldersandsettledthemandhimselfinCairo.HissonsKhalidandAlifinishedtheireducationsthere,andhisdaughterGhaliyawasbornthere.WhenOman’snewgovernmentofferedanamnestyinthe1970s,askingthefugitivestoreturnandshareinconstructinganewawakeningforaunitedOman,IssatheEmigrantrefusedtheofferoutright,hisheadhighinexile.ButwhenGhaliyagrewsick,andthenwhenshedied,hermother

insistedthattheymustburyherinherancestraltown.KhalidhadjustgraduatedfromtheFineArtsAcademysohereturnedwithhisparentstotheplacehehadleftasaboy.AlistayedinCairotofinishhisdegreeandtoseeoutsomefamilyobligations.Thenhetooreturnedtoatownhebarelyrememberedfromchildhood.Nowheretheywereseekingmarriageswithhometowngirls,thesesisters,AsmaandKhawla.Alonggenealogyconnectedthetwofamiliesbutwhatmatteredwere

thefewholidayencounters.AsmaandKhalidhadspokenoccasionally.Oncesheevensawhispaintings,ontheonefamilyvisittotheirhomethathermotherallowedhertojoin.Shewasastonishedtoseesuchanoverwhelmingnumberofpaintingsallonthesametheme,allofthesameimage.Horses.Ali’spaintingswerepreciseanddetailed,capturingeverynuanceofa

horse’sbuild.Hissteedsbarelyskimmedtheground,asiftheyweretakingoffinflight.Studyingthesehorse-forms,Asmawasincreasingly

certainthatthepaintingscontainedwithinthemsomekindofdisquiet.Theimagesmadeheranxious;shewishedthesehorse-figuresweremorefirmlyplantedontheground.Nowonder,yearslater,shefeltdrawntopaintingsofbarefootwomenwithsturdylegsandfeet,imagesthatredressedtheuneasethathadcollectedinsideofherasshegazedatthehorses–solight,fragile,transitory–inherhusband’spaintings.Solidchunkybarelegs;shefoundthemreassuring.IssatheEmigrantwasstraightforwardwithherfather.WewantAsma

andKhawlaforKhalidandAli.They’lllivewithusinMuscat.AnyonewhohaslivedforalongperiodinacitylikeCairocan’tendurelifeinatinybackwaterlikeal-Awafi.ForAsma,movingtoMuscatmeantshecouldcontinueherstudiesand

getadegree.Shewouldenrolinoneofthecity’ssecondaryschoolsandmaybeafterthatshecouldevengetadmittedtotheuniversitythatpeoplesaidwasunderconstruction,oroneofthecollegesthatalreadyexisted.Shecouldgoonlearning.Sherecalledhermother’sstoryabouthergrandfatherShaykhMasoud,theonewiththelibrary.Asmart,quickboywithaloveofknowledge,hewantedtogototheSaidiyyaSchoolinMuscat.ButhisfatherdecidedthatlifeinMuscatposedtoomuchofadangerforafutureheadofthetribe.Sotheboylearnedwhathelearnedfromshaykhsandimamsinmosques,movingbetweenthecentresoflearningthatexistedtheninNazwaandal-Rustaq,thoughheneverforgothisdreamofgoingtomodernschools.Lateron,heworkedwithsomeothersonfoundingamodernschool.Theywantedtolocateitinanopencityonthecoast,andtheychoseSur.Afteraflurryofplanningtheylaidthefoundationsbutthenorderswereissuedfromonhigh:theyweretodonomore.Inthe1940sthemereideaofeducatingOmanisterrifiedtherulers.Masoudandhisfriendslearnedofoneseniorbureaucrat’sreaction,expressedinanexchangewithanEnglishconfidante,whichsaiditall:ArewegoingtoeducateOmanislikeyoueducatedtheIndians,andsotheyrevoltedagainstyou,andsoonthey’lloustyouentirely?SotheschoolprojectinSurcametoanearlyandrapidclose.Masoud

returnedtohisbooks,procuredfromIndia,EgyptandtheArabcapitals

attheeasternendoftheMediterranean.Salima,tellingAsmaabouthergrandfather,didn’treallyknowhowtoexplainherfather’sdeterminationwhenitcametostudies.ButAsmathoughtsheknewwhathemusthavefelt.Shesaidquietlytohermother:Thelongingtoknowthingsconsumespeoplesometimes.Itwasadesirethatconsumedherasithadhergrandfather,despitethemanyyearsthatseparatedthem.

Salima

WhenthetrucktookAsma’sweddingthingsawayhermothercollapsed,aloneinthebigfrontroom.Shefeltpangsofhunger,thatmostfamiliarofsensationsfromherchildhood,allthetimeshewasgrowingolder,crouchedatthefootofthekitchenwallinheruncle’sfortress-likecompound,deniedthebountiesofitskitchen.True,shehadnotspentherchildhoodstirringbigpotsorsweepingorcarryingwaterorwoodonherhead.True,shewasnotaslaveoraservant.Butnorhadsheeverhadthesatisfactionofafullstomachorthepleasuresofwearingprettyclothesorlearningembroidery,sinceShaykhSaidwasnotherfatherbutonlyherfather’sbrother.Shecouldn’tleavetheconfinesofthewalledcompoundorplaywiththegirlswholivednearby.Shedidn’thaveapartinthesharedlaughterandplaywhenwomenandgirlswerebathinginthefalaj,norinthedancingatweddingslikethegirlsfromslavefamiliesdid.Shecouldn’tbegivenremnantsofoldclothesoutofwhichshecouldmakegownsforwoodendolls.Butequally,shedidn’thavegoldchainsorbraceletstoputon,norcouldsheenjoythedelicaciesofthetablelikethedaughtersofshaykhsdid.Shegrewupatthefootofthekitchenwall,alwayshungry,alwaysobservingslavewomen’sfreedomtoliveanddance,andmistresswomen’sfreedomtocommandothers,adornthemselvesastheyliked,andmakevisitstotheirlikesinotherwell-offfamilies.Shecouldcertainlyrememberthevisitshermothermadetoherand

Muaadh,everyonesurreptitious,theirmamacowed.WhenMamacametoseethemhereyeswerealwayspuffy.Sheheldthemandmumbledwordstheycouldn’treallyhear.TheyknewhowshebeggedShaykhSaidtimeaftertimetoletthemlivewithher,inherbrother’shome.Buthealwayssaidthesamething.Hewouldnotabandonhisbrother’schildren,

allowingthemtoberaisedbyvirtualstrangers,outsiderstotheirfather’sbigandimportantfamily.Salimaparticularlyrememberedavisitwhenshehadjustturnedten

yearsold.Insteadofsittingwithherinthecourtyard,half-hiddenunderthekitchenwall,hermotherledhertoaroominsideheruncle’sforbiddinghome.Sheunrolledherheadwrapwhichhadbeenknottedintoabundle.Undoingtheknotshetookoutseveralpairsofsilverearringsandaneedle.Shesmiledatherdaughter,tellingherthatafteralotofdifficultyandtoilshe’dcomeupwiththemoneytobuytheseearrings,justforher.Fromthisdayon,declaredhermother,Salimawouldbeeverybitasgrandasheruncle’sdaughters.PullingSalimaontoherlap,shepokedtheneedleintoapoundedcloveofgarlictopurifyitandthenplungeditrepeatedlyintoSalima’sear,makingatleasttenholesfromthetopofherearlobeallthewaydown.Thelittlegirl’stearssoakedhermother’slapasshesubmittedherselftothepain.Hermotherstrungblackthreadsthrougheveryhole.Twodayslater,aftertheswellinghadgonedown,hermothercameback.Shetookoutthethreadsandputinthesilverearrings,asetofgraduatedrings,increasinginsizeandheavinessthelowertheywereonherear.Hermotherwasveryproud,andSalimacouldseethat.Sheenduredtheterriblepainsthatwearingtheseheavyearringscaused.Herearsswelledandfesteredtothepointthatshecouldn’tsleeponherside,notoneitherside.Shespentcountlessnightsawake,tryingtofallasleeponherstomachwithherchinagainstthehardfloor.Bythetimeshefeltbetter,someweekslater,andgotusedtotheheavinessofthesilverearrings,she’dcometohateanysortofjewellery,indeedanyandallofthewayswomenprettiedthemselvesup.

Abdallah

Zarifasquatsonthegroundandherenormousbreastsspillontoherlapasherplumpfingers,heavywithsilverrings,undothetapingaroundthelittlecartonsoffinest-qualityOmanijelly-sweet.Shetapsthealmondgarnishanddarkbrownsurfacelightly,anditquivers.Justhavealookatthatsweetsight!Allthisgoodness,thentheysaytome,Don’teatit,rememberyourdiabetes,it’sallsugar,leaveit.Well,sugarornosugar,sorry,Zarruufdoesn’tleavesweetsalone.Allsugar,they’llgrumble,well,hah!Zarifapicksupalargechunkandcramsitintohermouthwithallherfingers,andmakesapointoflickingthem,asifnow,atthismoment,she’sgettinghersweetrevengeforthosemanyyearsofhungersheknewinthehouseholdofShaykhSaid,beforemyfatherboughther.Hidemeawayinyoursoftwarmchest,Zarifa–Iamfrightened.Hold

myhead,restitsomewherebetweenyourlapandyourbreasts.Letmebreatheinyoursweatandthesmellofbrothyoualwayscarry,andthen,letmesleep.Iamafraid,Zarifa.Myfatherwon’tforgivemeforyourdeath.Myfatherwillneverrelent,andIamafraidofwhathewilldo.He’scomeoutofhisgrave,againandagain,toquestionmeaboutyou.Hetiedmeupwiththatpalm-fibrerope,doyouremember,andhethrewmeupsidedownintothewell.Fromthebottomofthewell,Ishouted.Shediedapeacefuldeath,the

Lordtookheraway,longafteryourtime.You’dalreadybeendeadforyears.Buthedidnotraisemeoutofthewell.Heleftmethere,headdowninthepitch-blackwellshaft.AsGodisgreat,Father,Ididnotevenknow!I’dmovedtoMuscatby

thenandthebusinessconsumedeverymoment.Ionlywentbacktoal-Awafiforfeastdays.Iheardshe’dcomebackfromKuwait.Theysaidshe

couldn’tstandlivingwithShanna.SomebodysaidShannathrewheroutofthehouse,andsomebodyelseclaimedshetriedtogetZarifalockedupasamadwoman,soZarifafled.StillotherssaidthatZarifajustmissedal-Awafitoomuchandcouldn’tendurebeingaway.ThatshesawhermotherAnkabutainadream,callingher,soshecameback.Shemovedinwithrelatives.Father,Iwassobusy.Itwasjustafterthestockmarketcollapsed,and

AbuSalihandIweretryingdesperatelytobuildupourbusiness.Father,Iwassobusy,allofthetime.IwasinMuscat,andIwasinal-Khuwayr,al-Ghubra,Iwasinal-Hayl,Sib,IwasineverysingletownandareaanywherenearMuscat,Iwassearchingforabitofland,ahouse,avilla,contractors,aclinicthatcouldhelpuswithMuhammad’sautism,English-languageinstitutes,accountingclasses,acarbiggerthanyouroldwhiteMercedes,anygooddeals,adecenttravelagent,reliabledomesticservants–Philippinas,Indonesians–schoolsforthechildren,tutors,adriver,placestospendtheevening,friends...Myfatherdidnotliftmeoutofthewell.Pull,Father!Hauluptherope.Tughardontheendyouareholding

untiltheotherendtightensaroundmywaistenoughthatIcomeup.Thewellisdark,Father,andsnakesliveinhere.Liftmeout,Iwon’tstealyourrifle,Iwon’tgooffwithMarhunandSanjar,anyway,Sanjarisworkingasaporterinthesouknow,Father,andShannaworksasaschooljanitor.Zarifaistheonewholeft,sheleftthem,shecouldn’tstandlifeinKuwait.Getmeoutofthiswell,Father.Iwon’tbelongingforthosemagpies

andIwon’tplayballwiththeboys.Iwon’tstayuplatelisteningtothebewitchingmelodiesofSuwayd’soud,Iwon’tscreamintoyourface,andyouinacoma,thatSanjarranawayjustlikehisfather,Habib,andthatI’mtheonlyonewhodidn’trunaway.Raisemeoutofhere,Iwon’tleaveZarifa,yourbeloved,yourmother,yourdaughter,yourslave,yourlady.Iwon’tleavehertodiealoneinsomeforgottenhospital.Thediabetesgotworse,Father,itwasterrible.Doyouknowwhatit

means,thesukkari?Itwentthroughherwholebody,itwashorrible,andtheyamputatedherleg.Herrelativessaid,Wearen’tgoingtokeep

supportingacrippledwoman.Thentheycutoffherotherlegandtheneighbourssaid,Whoisgoingtotakehertothebathhouse?Whoisgoingtodragthisenormousbodywithnolegsoverthere?Thehospitaldirectorwaskind.Heletherstayinthereforgood,andthenursestookcareofher.Hoistmeup,Father.Zarifa,bringmeupfromthiswell.I’mafraid.Iamso,soafraid.

AzzanandQamar

Azzanbroughtherclose.Najiya!MyFullestMoon,Iwantyou,mine.Iamyours,Najiyawhispered.Already.Hemoaned.No,notcompletely.Othersarealwaysother.Sheslippedoutofhisgrip.Whatdoyoumean?Imean,peoplearealwaysapart,Najiya,they’reseparateintheend,

evenwhentheythinkthey’reone.It’stheharshestkindofalonenessthereis.Shegavehimadisapprovinglookandatthat,hegrinned.Doyou

rememberIbnal-Rumi?NowNajiyasmiled.Thepessimist?Yes,ofcourse.Hehuggedhercloseagain.Doyouknowwhathesays?

ThoughIholdherclose,mysoulstillyearns

yethowcanIbecloserthaninherembrace?

Ikisshermouthtochasemyfeveraway

butmymadcast-offlove-thirstburnsevermore

Thereachofmypassion!Maythatcravingbecured

bythesweetnessofthatwhichmylipsdoabsorb

Myexposedweatheredheartwillneverhealitself

untilthesetwoselvesareseenasonemingled

Atthesameinstantthetwoofthemsighed.Thosepoetswhosangaboutthepleasureofpossessionweren’tlovers,

hesaidflatly.Theywerehunters.Najiya’ssmileturnedlightlysarcastic.Hunters?Yes,that’sright,Azzansaidfirmly.Alover,Najiya,doesn’tpossessthe

beloved,howevermuchpleasuretheloverfeels,andhoweverclosetothe

beloved.Atruebelovedislikeyou–someonewhocan’tbeowned.Najiyalookeduneasy.She’dneverknownhowtohideherfeelings,and

itmadeherespeciallyuncomfortablethatAzzanwasspoilingtheirtogethernesswithwordslikethese.Whydidhehavetostarttalkingaboutownership?Hewastheonewhohadafamily,children–andshewasn’tdemandinganythingofhim.Shewasperfectlyhappylikethis.Itdidn’toccurtohertothinkaboutthingslike‘possession’and‘hunting’.Herdesirewastobehisloverandshewas,andshedidn’twantanythingelse.Whydidhealwaysappearsotorturedbycrypticfeelingsthatshecouldn’tgrasp?

TheBridalProcession

Asmaplantedherselfinfrontofthemirror,imitatingKhawla.Thefigureshestaredatwasayoungwomanofmiddlingheight,barelytwentyyearsold,withwidebrowneyesandashortnose.Hereyelashesfeltheavy–allthoselayersofmascara–andtheredlipstickshethoughtmadeherfacelooklikeaclown’s.Sheglancedquicklyoverherbody,squeezedintotheweddinggownpickedoutbythetwomotherstogether,itsglossy,glittery,form-fittingdishdashawithitsgenerousembroideryatthethroatanddownthelongsleeves,aswellasthelengthofthetrain.Tracesoftheindeterminateanxietyshe’dfeltearlierreturned.Shetriedtodistractherselfbystudyingtheelaboratehennadesignsthatscrolledalongthebackofherhandsandaroundontothepalms.Sheglancedintothemirroragainandsmilednervouslyatthesightofherbosom,sohighandprominentundertheclose-fittinggown.Sherememberedhowfrightenedshehadbeen,afewyearsago,whenthefirstvisibletracesoffemininityhadtakenherbysurprise.Shehadloathedseeingthederisoryswellingonherchestandeveryeveningsheprayedthatbymorningitwouldbegone.Then,andforthenextfewmonths,shesubmittedtohersisterMayya’sadviceonhowtohidethisnewprotuberance.OnthateveningasshelistenedtoAsmacryingatthefalajwheretheywerewashingclothesasitgrewdark,Mayyasaid,Don’tbesoscared,Asma.It’sjustanewfattybulge.Ifyougiveitagoodrubwithsomesaltdissolvedinwarmwateritwillmeltaway.Ifit’sreallystubbornlikeminewas,I’lltakeinallyourundershirts,they’llpushitallbackandnoonewillseeanyofit.But,wearingheralteredundershirts,sometimesAsmacouldn’tbreathebecausetheyweresotight.Andallthesaltdidwastomakehersmallchestpeel,anditkeptongrowinganyway,untilhermotherorderedhertostartwearingaheadwrap.ShetaughtAsmahowtowrapitaroundher

headandneckleavingsomefabricsothatitwouldcoverherchesttoo.Onceagainshecouldbreathefreely,andshestoppedsayingthosespecial,pleadingnightlyprayers.Now,Asmaloweredhereyestostareatherstomach,flatandtautin

themirror.Shecouldn’tkeepbackagrinassheimagineditroundingout.Andthen,assoonasitwasvacated,shehoped,itwouldgrowbigandroundagain.Shedidn’thaveaspecificnumberofchildreninmind–itwashardtoimagineanyofthis,really–butshecouldseeherselfvaguelyasanoldwomanstandingbesideanagedKhalidasdozensofsonsanddaughtersandgrandchildrengatheredaroundthem.Shelookedthemirror-figureintheeye,andbothofthemshivered.It

wasthethoughtthatshewasabouttojointheotherhalfofher,theselfwhichhadbeenseparatedfromherselfeversinceearliestcreation.Inhermindsherecitedthatfavouritepassageofhers,describinghowhumanswereonlyhalvesofawhole,longagodetachedonefromtheother,andnohalfcouldbetrulycompleteoratpeaceuntilitwasunitedwithitsmissingpart.WhatwasKhalidfeelingrightnow?Washeasanxiousasshewas?Washefeelinghappy?Oh!Despitealloftheseworriedthoughtsshecouldnotwaitforthemtobetogether.Atsunset,womenbegantodescendingroupsonSalima’shouse.They

crowdedaroundthehugeplattersofriceandmeat,andthetraysoffruit,thatsatonclothsstretchedacrossthecourtyard.Singingandthesoundofdrumsrose,andthecirclesofdancersexpanded.Zarifajoinedthegroupdancingthehambura.Thebridegroom’smotherarrivedwithagroupofkinswomenintow,theirgleefulshoutsaddingtothemayhem.Wewantourbride!Giveusourbride!Theydidn’ttarry,turningimmediatelytowardAsma,aseatedsilhouettedrapedinagreensilkshawl.Salimahelpedhertoherfeetandhuggedherbeforemanoeuveringherarmintothegraspofthegroom’smother,whomarchedherproudlytothedecked-outbrightredMercedesthatwaswaitingatthedoor,EmigrantIssahimselfatthewheel.Allthewomenfollowedtheprocessionout,climbingintothebusesorderedspeciallyforthewedding.TheywouldfollowthebridalcarallthewaytoMuscatandtheflatKhalid

hadrentedasabridalretreat,andtheirnewhome.Withthebridalprocession’sdepartureasuddenstillnessfelloverthe

house,sendingfearintoSalima’sheart.Shecollapsedonthereception-roomsteps.Herewasthesecondofhergirlsleavingthehouse,andthiswasthedaughterwhotriedhertendernessthemost.Weraisethemsothatstrangerscantakethemaway,shewhimpered.Shelefteverythingjustasitwas;inthemorning,therewouldbepeopleheretohelphercleanandputeverythingright.Now,though,everyonewascaughtupintheongoingsinginganddancing,firstinthebusesandthenatthegroom’shome.ShewishedshecouldbetherewhenKhalidliftedthesilkshawlfromAsma’sface,butsherespectedthetraditionthatthemotherofthebridedoesnotgotothegroom’shomeonherdaughter’sweddingday.Inthemiddleroom,whereshehadslepteversinceAzzanabandonedherbed,sherolledoutherbeddingandlaydown,stillthinkingaboutAsma,andsuddenlyoverwhelmed,too,bymemoriesofherownweddingandthedayshewastakentoAzzan’shome.ShewasthirteenwhenheruncleShaykhSaid’swifeurgedhiminno

uncertaintermstosendhertohermothernow.Butonlyafterhisbrother’swidowbeggedhimonefinaltimedidShaykhSaidagreethatSalimacouldlivewithher,onconditionthatMuaadhremainedinhishouse.SoSalimamovedtohermaternaluncle’shome,whereshespenttheloveliestyearsofherlife,enjoyinghermother’swarmthandhermaternaluncle’saffection.Hermother’sbrotherhadnotbeenblessedwithchildrenandhewelcomedherwithopenarms.HishomewasnicknamedOrchardHousebecauseitwasatangleoffruittreesandbushes–mango,lemon,orange,quince,jasmine,roses.Theroomshadbeenbuiltinacrescentshapetoaccommodatethetrees.Thissmallorchardwasthecentreofthehouse,itspivotontowhicheveryroomopened.Thefresh,moistbreezesthatthisuniquebuildingletinsoonfilledSalima’sspirit.Sheespeciallylovedsinkingherfeetintotheseriesofsmallcanal-streamsthatkepttheorchardwatered,flowingintoalargerundergroundchannelthatwentonforseveralmetresbeforepouringintoal-Awafi’smaincanal.

Salima’srapturedidn’tlastlong.VerysoonherpaternaluncleinformedhermotherthathewasgoingtomarrySalimatohiskinsmanAzzan,agreenandheedlessboyafewyearshersenior.Hermotherwasnotkeenonthismarriageandherownbrothertookherside.Theyopposedthismatchstrenuouslyandpersistently,objectingonthegroundsthatAzzanwasstillatenderyouth,andstillayoungapprentice-followerofJudgeYusuf’s.Moreover,theyinsisted,itwasverypossiblethathewoulddecidetofollowthefamilymemberswhohademigratedtoZanzibar,leavinghiswifebehind.ButShaykhSaidputhisfootdownandwarnedSalima’smaternalunclethatifhedidn’topenthegatetoOrchardHousetoallowhertoleave,hewouldgetheroutinhisownway.Hermother’sbrotherfelthishonourhumiliatedbythisthreat.Heboltedthefrontgate.OnthedaythatShaykhSaidhadsetfortheweddingSalimawaseating

themiddaymealwithhermotherandunclewhen,fromthebigcanalintheirorchard,swarmedaclusterofslaves,menandwomen,whobelongedtoShaykhSaid.Waterdrippingfromtheirbodies,theyformedatightcirclearoundthestartled,andthenterror-stricken,family.Salimahadtogowiththemrightnow,theysaid.Otherwisetheywouldhavetotakeherbyforce,makingherswimthroughtheorchardcanaltothemainfalajoutside.Atthat,heruncleopenedthegate.ThemenandwomenwhohadinvadedhishometookSalimaaway,andafewhourslatershebecameAzzan’sbride.PeoplewouldgooncallinghertheBrideoftheFalajforyearsafterward.Many,verylong,yearsafterward.

Abdallah

Whydopeoplesaymygrandmotherdiedbewitched?askedLondon.Becausethat’showtheyexplainedanydeaththathappenedsuddenly

andanyillnesstheycouldn’texplain,Iresponded.Doyouknowwhatshewasillwith,Papa?Londonaskedintently.Idon’tknow,Imumbled.ButI’madoctor.SomaybeIcouldfigureitout.Didanyonetellyou

whathersymptomswere,andhowlongshewassick?Yes.Peoplesayshegotsickverysuddenly,twoweeksafterIwasborn.

Herskinturnedblueandherpupilscontracted.Shestartedsweatingveryheavilyandshecouldn’tstopshivering.Peoplesaidthespiritswerefightingitoutwitheachotheronherbodyandthat’swhyshewasshakingsohardandgivingoffsomuchsweat.Then,theysaid,thestrongestspiritwonherfromtheothers,andsoshequieteddownandgotverycold.Peopleassumedshehaddiedsotheyburiedher.London’sfacelookedverypale.What’swrong?Iasked.Thesesymptomsarecommontoanumberofillnessesbutmostlikely

theyindicatepoisoning,Londonsaid,hervoiceedgy.IrememberwhatGrammaSalimatoldme,shesaidalotofpoisonousherbs,likehabbal-muluk,andredandyellowdafla,growinthedesertaroundal-Awafi.Shetoldmethatsometimeswomenslippedtracesoftheseintotheirco-wives’foodtomakethemill.Thenthey’dhavethehusbandtothemselves.Iputmyarmfirmlyaroundhershoulder.London!Mymotherdidn’t

haveanyco-wives.Shenoddedherhead.Yes,that’strue.Wherewasmygrandfatherat

thetime?OnatriptoSalalahforhistrade.That’swhynoonetookherto

Thomas,theAmericanmissionarywhowasfamousbecausehetreated

people’sillnesseswithouttakinganymoney.Peoplelinedupfromdawnuntillateatnighttoseehim.It’sveryodd,mutteredLondon.Theycouldbesymptomsofanother

illness...maybe...whoknows?Icouldn’tsleepthatnight.Everyonehadsimilarthingstosayabout

witcheryandthejinn.OnlyZarifaneverjoinedinwhenpeopletalkedaboutmymother’sillness.ButZarifawasdeadnow.DidquestionslikethesehaveanythingtodowithherinsistenceontastingeverydishbeforeIatefromit,allthroughmychildhood?Idon’tknow...Idon’tknow...HowwouldIknow,anyway?

AzzanandQamar

AsthelastdrumbeatssoundedatAsma’sweddingAzzanwasrollingaboutonthecoolsandwithNajiya.Hestaredintoherface–themostbeautifulsighthehadseeninhislife–andrecitedsomelinesbyal-Mutanabbithathadcometohimjustthen.

Istakemywordonthedesertgazelleandwhatshe’sfreeof–

noslurinherspeechnorpencilled-oneyebrows

Thefacesofcitygirlsseenasprettyarenothing

tothefacesoftheBedouin,thosera‘aabib

Whatpassesforhandsomeintheeyesofsettledfolk

happenswithperfumesandpaddingbutnomadgirlsneednone.

Najiya’sdeeplaughterrocketedthroughthedesertsilence.That’syourfriend,theonecalledal-Mutanabbi,theoneyoutoldmeabout?Yes,he’stheone,Najiya,Azzanrepliedwithasigh.Shestartedlaughingagain.So,whatarethesera‘aabibhetalksabout?Azzansatupandbrushedthesandoff.Ara‘buba,Najiya,isawoman

withagorgeouslyfullbody.Andthegazelleofthedesert–that’syou.Oh,really.Shesoundedannoyed.DoIchewmywords,then,likea

gazellechewshercud?Youchewmyheart,Najiya.Aah,Najiya,JudgeYusuf–mayGod’s

mercysurroundhim–usedtotalktomeabouthearts.Onandonhewouldgo,andIdidn’tunderstandanyofwhathewassaying.NowIthinkIdounderstanditall.All?Azzan,myboy!JudgeYusufwouldsay.Yournameisawordthatholds

secrets–itisasecretinitself.Listen–thefirstletterinyourname,ayn,

isacoldletterinthefourthdegree,anditholdstwolevelsofcoldmoisture,whichisthefirstofthesecretsofthethrone,the‘arsh,whichalsobeginswiththeletterayn,justlikeyourname.Aynisthefirstofitslettersandthefirstoftheworldsitinvented–andworlds,awalim,startswithayntoo.Yournameholdsthecosmos,Azzan.Najiyadidn’tunderstandanyofthis.HearingJudgeYusuf’sname

didn’tbringheranycomfort,either.ButAzzanwenton.WhenhemarriedMaryam,hetoldme,hisheartwasnolongerjusta

mirrorinwhichthebeautyoftheuniverseshone,likeitwasbefore.NowhisheartwascompletelytakenupbyMaryamandthechildren.Onetimehementionedtomethatheregrettedhavingignoredtheadviceofthegreatmasteral-Ghazali,whotoldhisdiscipletokeepwellawayfrommarriage.Torefuseitwhenhisfamilyinsisted,toturnitdowninthetimeofitsasking,whenhisfamilypresenteditashisworkintheworld.IsthisGhazalithefellowwhowrotethebookthatturnsreaders

insane?Najiyagrumbled.Whoisthisdisciple,andwhatdoesthatmean,inthetimeofitsasking?Godshowyouhismercy,JudgeYusuf!Whenthatmandiednotevena

singlehaironhisheadhadgonewhite.Al-Ghazali–Najiya,hewrotealotofbooks,andtheydon’tmakepeoplegoinsane.Butmostpeopledon’tunderstandthem.Theywanttobekepthappy,tostaycomfortable,sotheydon’tusuallytrytomeetalltheconditionsthatsomeonelikeal-Ghazalisetsforthem.Areyouhappyandcomfortable,Azzan?Hesmiledandclosedhiseyes.HowcouldIbe,whenmyheartis

chewedupinyourbeautifulmouth?Howwillmyheartbecomeapuremirror,Moonofmine?Iamyourmirror.Theyfellintosilence.Thehillsaroundthemweresilent.InAzzan’searsechoedremnantsof

sounds:thedrumsathisdaughter’swedding,Qamar’ssilveranklets,herlaughingthatseemeditselfastreamofblessedmusk,andherstoriesaboutthehand-workedfabricsthatmerchantsboughtfromhertosellto

touristsinMatrah.Thevoicesandsoundsfaded,evenal-Mutanabbi’svoice,declaringhimselftoallinafamouslineasthevoiceknowntosteedsandthenight,tothedesertandtheswordandthespear,toinkandthepen.Allthevoices,allthesoundsbecamefadingcirclesspinninginhisheadbeforetheyquieted,makingroomforasingledeepvoice.JudgeYusuf’svoice.Hewhofaithfullystrivestounderstandanddowhatisbest;whofrees

himselffromexcessiveappetitesandangerandotherblameworthyactsanduglydeeds;whositsinaplaceemptyofothersandclosestheeyeofhissensestoopentheeyeofthehiddenandtolisten;whokeepshisheartintheworldofGod’skingdom,utteringthenameoftheAlmighty,preservingthisnameinhisheartalways,andofcourseonhistongue,untilheisnolongeraseparatebeing,apersonintheworld;untilheseesnaughtbutGod,praisebetoHisExaltedness.Tothisstrivingpersonwillbeopenedawindow.Whenhelooksthroughit,apersonwhoisablewillperceivemorethanordinaryfolkwill.Thoughhebeawake,thisdiscerningpersonwillperceivethestuffofdreams.Thespiritsoftheangelsandprophetswillcometohim,andsowillotherbeautifulandmightyimages,thekingdomofheavenandthekingdomofearth.Hewillhavevisionsthathecannotexplainordescribe.AsourProphet,peaceandblessingsbeuponhim,said:TheearthwasconcealedtomeyetIsawitseastanditswestboth.Azzan,ifyouwouldbethisperson,forsevendayscommityourselftorepeatingonlythenameofGod.Fastinthedaytimeandremainawakeforasmuchofthenightasyoucan.Detachyourselffromothers;donotspeaktoasoul,andthewondersofcreationwillberevealedtoyou.Dothisforafurthersevendaysandyouwillreceivethegraceofseeingthewondersoftheheavens.Anotherseven,youwillvisitthewondersofthehighestkingdom.ShouldyoureachfortydaysGodwillshowyouHismiraclesandimpartHishiddenknowledge.Azzanfeltashudderrunthroughhisbodyandsweatcoveredhim.

Najiyaleanedtowardhim.What’sthematter?Hegaveheralookofterror.Imustgo.Hesnatcheduphisslippersandwasgone.

JudgeYusuf,Iamafraid.Afraid!Myheart’sbeensnatchedawayanditsitshighintheeagles’nest.Theblackexpansesthatshadowmyheartcrowdalloftheotherimagesout,Icannotseetheminitsmirror.Icannotsee,JudgeYusuf.Icannotseeanything.

Abdallah

ZarifatoldmethatasatinybabyIcriedendlessly.Afterherhusbandmadeupwithherandshewentbacktohim,myauntwantedtotakemewithherbutmyfatherturnedherdownflat.HeassignedZarifatoraiseme.Heboughtseveralmilkingewesbuttheirmilkwasn’tenoughtoquietme.SosometimesZarifapackedmynosewithsnufftomakemegotosleep.Whenevershesensedmecryingbecausemyearshurt,shepouredafewdropsofcoffeeintomyearcanals.Orshetookmetonursingwomen,askingthemtosqueezedropsoftheirmilkintomyeyes,sinceshethoughtImightbecryingbecausemyeyeshurt.WhenIwasalittlebiggershestrungamuletsaroundmynecktoprotectmefromenvyandconvincedmyfathertopiercemyearssoshecouldhangsilverearringsthere.Whatshecalledthenight-folkmightnotrecognisethatIwasaboyandsnatchmeawayjustastheyhadkidnappedmymother.SheembroideredthecapsIworewithherownhands.Itcertainlydidn’tdiminishherpridethatonfeastdaysIwastheonlychildinal-Awafiwhoworeslippersandajubbadecoratedwithtinymirror-sequinsprocuredfromIndia.Zarifawouldrecountallofthis,chuckling.Sheraisedmeuntilthe

comingofTheGreatAngerasshecalledit,themassiveargumentbetweenherandmyfather;Ineverlearnedthecausesofit.Hepunishedherbyabandoningherandthenmarryingherofftothemosteccentricandaggressiveslavehehad,Habib,whowasatleasttenyearsherjunior.

London

ThebusescomingfromAsmaandKhalid’sweddingwerebackinal-Awafijustbeforedawn.Thewomen’spassionforsonganddancehadgivenwaytoexhaustion,andsomeofthemhadfallenasleep.Mayya,though,satwideawakenexttothewindow.Everything,allofit,hadseemedlikeadreamsequence.Withoutanywarning,shehadbeenmarriedtothesonofMerchantSulayman.Next,hersisterwasmarriedtothesonofIssatheEmigrant.HeryoungestsisterKhawlawasstillwaiting–waitingforhercousinNasir.DuringAsma’sweddingfestivities,shehadwhispered,overandover:

Lord,bringNasirbacktome.EveryoneknewthatNasirwasn’tcomingback.ButstubbornKhawlawouldnotlistentoanyone.Mayyastaredoutthewindowatthehillsstillhalf-submergedin

darkness,andtightenedherarmsaroundherbabydaughter,onlyafewmonthsold.Ifthatwasit,simply,iflifewasadream,whenwouldanyonewakeup?Shestrokedherlittleoneandwhisperedhernamealmostsilently.London...London.Willyoubehappy,mybabydarling?BarelytwentyyearslaterLondonwouldbeanewdivorcee,extracting

herselffromamarriagecontractthoughnotyetinhermaritalhome.Withthedivorcefinalisedshebeganstrugglingwithallofthedifficult-to-untangleemotionsthatbruisedhersenseofself-respect–anincalculableblendoflonging,fury,antagonismandregret.Shewascertainshewouldneveragainbethatpersonshehadbeenbefore.Whatpeoplecalled‘anexperience’wasinrealityachronicdisease,surely–notoneyoucandiefrom,butnotonethatisevercured.Notoneyoueverreallymanage;you’reneverfreeofit,either.Whereveryougoitcomesalongwithyou,andit’sliabletoeruptatanymoment,remindingyouofconsequencesitcarriesthatyouwereeitherunawareoforwerediligentlyignoring.And

theadvicepeoplegiveusto‘turnthepage’isnothingmorethanasickjoke.LondonhadtriedtoturnthepageonAhmad.Toclosethatpageandopenanewone.Howmanypeopleweredoingthesamething,dayinanddayout?London,comeon!Hanansaidtoher.Lifegoeson.WhereAhmad’s

concerned,justhitDelete,okay?Letitgo,shesaid,inEnglishtounderlineherpoint.Butthispagewasaheavyoneindeed,andtryingtoturnit,shecouldn’tkeepherhandsteady.MyGod,peoplearesodifferent.Howdootherpeopleturnthepage?Shetriedtoturntoanewpagebutshealreadyknewtherewerenoblankpagesinlife.She’dfeltthisscardeepeningintoawound,herdignityfesteredandshesawhumiliationstampedintheveryspotwheredesirestillburned.Shearrangedherstuffedteddybearsagainstthepillows,sprayedherexpensiveGucciperfumearoundtheroom,loweredthecurtainsonMuscat’snight-timeandtriedtosleepbutcouldnot.Herhardgazeturnedinwardandrippedopenherheart.Inhermind’s

eye,herheartwasatriangle.Whenmemoriesbegantorisefromthebaseofthetriangle,theyweresopowerfulandsodisturbingthattheyshookallthreesidesofthetrianglehard.Thewordspelteddown,allofthewordshe’dsaidtohersincetheveryfirsttimeshe’dencounteredhiminthelecturehall,andthelongtelephoneconversationstoo.Thesidesofthetrianglecollapsed,pulverisedbyallthewords,andleavingonlytinyword-shardsinitsplace.Sheturnedhereyesawaybutthenshecouldn’tseeanything.Hanan’swordsechoed,overandover:Letitgo!Asifthiswerea

rewindofsomeforeignfilm:hewasatreacherousloverandsotheheroinelefthim.Whenafriendsaidtoher,Ohdear...mydear,letitgo!theheroineforgothimimmediately.Bygoneswerebygones,theheroineturnedthepage.Endoffilm.SowhydidLondon’shandremainfrozeninplace,lettingitselfbecrushedundertheweightofthepage,untilshecouldnolongerturnit?Whydidthispain,obscurebutruthless,squeezehersohard?Whycouldn’tsheshakethishumiliatingsensation,desireandfailureinequalmeasure?Londonthrashedaboutinthe

darkness.Shecouldn’tsleep.Orturnthepage.

Zarifa

ZarifareturnedfromAsma’sweddinginastateofcollapsepromptedbyallofthedancing,singingandconstantlyservingguests.ButMerchantSulaymanwaswideawakeandwaitingforher.Heparticularlylikedtakingherwhenshehadjustcomebackfromawedding,bothbecauseshewasstillinheroutsidefineryandbecauseshecarriedwithhertheallureofthenewmarriage,whichexcitedhim.Zarifawantedbadlytogetsomerestbutshegavehimwhathewantedasquicklyasshecouldandthenhedidfallasleep.Shethoughtshewoulddropoffimmediatelytoo,butasenseofunease

wasedgingitswayintoherthoughshecouldn’tpindownthesourceofit.Weddingsdidn’tbringherthepleasuretheyoncehad.And,asproudasshecouldbeofhowtrueherdancestepsstillwere,shereallyhadgottentooheavyforsuchthings.Anyway,whatmoredidaweddingreallyholdforherthantheendlessserviceshehadtogivetothewomenwhowerethereasguests?Constantlysupplyingthemwithfoodanddrink,andontopofthat,thedancingandsinging,andallthegossipaswell.Therewasnorealpleasuretobehadinweddingsanymore.Onlyinzarexorcisms.Thoseendlessceremoniesintoxicatedher,everythingfromthegrilled

meatandthedrinkingtotheheavyandincessantpoundingofthedrums,untiltheecstasyofitallliftedheroutsideofherself,beyondconsciousnessandintoonesortoftranceoranother.Insuchastateshemightwalkacrosslivecoalsorliebeneathhorses’hoovesorrollinthedirtunderthecareeningcirclesofdancingbodies.Hermother–Godbemercifultohermother–hadbeenthezar’sBigMama,theonewhodecidedonwhentoholdoneoftheseeventsinthefirstplace,andthenwhopresidedoverthem.Shewasthemedium,afterall,thewomanindirectcontactwiththejinnwhohadattachedthemselvesruthlesslytothe

humanbeingswrithingonthehotcoals.SoletMerchantSulaymanwhipherforanabsenceoftwoorthreedayswhileshewasimmersedinthezar.Lethimaccuseherofplayingaroundwithoneofhisslaves,lethimcursehermotherasthechildofgenerationsofrunawayslaves!Lethimdowhateverhemight,butshesimplycouldn’tputanendtotheseragingblisteringecstasies.EvenHabibcouldn’tkeepherfromgoing.She’dleavenewbornSanjar

therenexttohimandslipoutsilentlyduringthenighttojoinhermother.Habibneverdidanythingtobringhimselfanypleasure,shetoldherself,andsohedidn’twantanyoneelsetogetanyjoyoutofanything.Ifitweren’tforthisunmanageablesonofhisshewouldhaveforgottenhimcompletely.Hewasalotyoungerthanshewas.Fromhismotherheinheritedhispaleskinandshortstature.WhenheclutchedhershefeltlikeshewasbeingheldbyoneoftheteenagedsonsofShaykhSaidwhousedtoputtheirhandsonherwhenshewasbarelyateenager,beforeMerchantSulaymanboughther.ShemadeheraversionclearineverypossiblewayuntilHabiblefther,beforeshecouldcauseatotalscandal,actingashermotherhaddonewithherownhusband,Nasib.Beforelong,Habibwasgone.Shethoughtshewaswellridofhim,no

longerforcedtoputupwiththewayhescreamed,fromthedepthsofhissleep,Wearefreepeople,free!Nolongerforcedtolistentohisravingsaboutthecorpsesthatwerethrownintothesea,thepirates,theeyedisease.Butherewashissonturningoutexactlylikehim.Sanjar,too,wouldrunawaybeforelongandherheartwouldburnwithgrief.Ifonlyshehadneverhadhim.ItstillmadehergroantorememberthelonghoursoflabourandSanjar’sdifficultbirth.Hermothertriedeverythingtoeasetheway.ShemadeZarifadrinkarotten-smellingviscousoil,followedbywaterintowhichwasmixedsoilfromagrave,andthenmorewater,thistimecollectedfromthedirtfloorofanabandonedandcollapsedmosque.Shemadeherdrinkthedissolvedleavesofalotustree,andhoneyoverwhichJudgeYusufhadrecitedversesfromtheQur’an.SheeventurnedZarifaupsidedown,sofranticwasshebythispoint.Whenshedespairedcompletelyshesaidtoherdaughter,Your

grandmotherdiedgivingbirth.Deathisfate.ButZarifadidnotdie,nordidthebaby.Ankabutastuckherhandupthebirthpassage,tuggeduntilthebluishfleshappeared,andslappedtheshapelessthingseveraltimesuntillifesurgedintoit.Sheperformedthedate-in-the-mouthritual,tossedthebabyintoHabib’shands,andburiedtheafterbirthunderthethresholdaftersmearingitwithashesandsalt.ShesprinkledthesoftsandaroundexhaustedZarifawithwater,gaveherfenugreekandclarifiedbuttertodrink,placedaknifeatherheadtowardoffanyevilmagicthatmightbemakingitswaytoherorthebaby,andwenthometosleepafteravigilthathadgoneonforseveralnights.Stillawakeatdawn,sheaskedherselfwhoshehadbeen,the

grandmotherwhodiedgivingbirth?Zarifaknewalmostnothingaboutthegenerationsbeforeher.She’dhearditsaidthatherfather’smotherhadrunaway.Thatwasallsheknew.Questionsaboutthemhadneverparticularlyplaguedherinthepastandtheydidn’tmuchoccupyhernow,thoughnowandthenshedidthinkshecouldseethelittleAfricanvillageinwhichhergreat-grandfatherhadspenthisnightsinpeacebeforeitwaswrittenthatheandhisoffspringafterhimwouldbethrownintoentirelydifferentlives?AsSenghorwasbeingborninasmallKenyanvillage,theSayyid,Said

binSultan,wassigningasecondpactwithBritaintobantheslavetrade.Inthe1885accords,SayyidSaidhadalreadyagreedtoputanendtothecommerceinslavesthatmovedbetweenhisAfricanandAsiandominions.HehadconsentedtoallowingBritishnavalshipstostopandsearchOmanivessels,eveninOmaniterritorialwaters,andthroughouttheArabianGulfandtheIndianOcean.Theyweretoseizeandsequesteranyvesselsviolatingtheaccords.ButSenghorwasn’tevenquitetwentywhenhewasgoneafterbypiratesfromother,morepowerfulvillages.Undercoverofdarknesstheyslippedintothedenseforestsaroundthevillageandsetuptheirtraps.WhenSenghorwentoutatdawntogathersomefirewoodhefellintoatrapanditsnappedshut,caginghimin.Theyseizedhimimmediatelyandtookhimbacktotheirvillagealongwiththeothercaptives,theirharvestfortheday.

ThenewslaveswereassembledatKalwaandloadedontoashipheadedforZanzibar.Itwasathree-daytripbuttherewasnothingtoeatordrink.Bythetimetheyarrivedataclandestinecollectionpointontheshoreneartheharbour,sixtyslaveshaddied,theirbodiespitchedoverboard.Thewaitingmerchants–somewereArabs,someAfricans–hadpaidtheheadtax,twodollarsapiece.TheshipemptieditscargoofslavesontotheshoretoawaitthenativeSurboatsthatwouldsailfromtheportofZanzibar.AstheywaitedthemerchantsseizedtheiropportunitytostrikebargainswithcertainEnglishplantationowners,whoreturnedtotheirfarmswiththeirownbounty:morethanonehundredslaves.AfewdayslatertheSurboatleftport,thecaptainhavingsolditscargo

ofdriedfish.EvadingtheBritishnavalships,atthesecretcoastalcollectionpointittookonboardtheremaininghumancargo,thosestillalivewhohadnotbeenboughtbytheEnglishmen,Senghoramongthem.Hebegantosufferfromhallucinations.TheshipcaptainkeptaheapofFrenchflagsinhiscabin;hehadacquiredfromtheFrenchauthoritiesinAden.HehadthemraisedhighabovedeckasaploytoavoidinspectionfromanyBritishshipshemightencounterunexpectedlyinthesealanes.AndsotheboatarrivedsafelyatSurharbourattheendofAugust,carriedbytheseasonalgustsofwindcomingfromthesoutheast.Senghorhadrecoveredfromhishallucinatoryspellsandtheseasicknessbythen,andhadbeguntolearnArabic.ThemerchantsinSurgottoworkdividinguptheslaves,their

argumentativebargaininglastingthroughthenight.HavingonceagaintakenfulladvantageoftheclashofinterestsbetweenBritainandFrance,theboatcaptainhidhisflagsawaycarefullyinhiscabinandwenthomehappy.Thenextmorningwhenthemerchantshadcometoanagreement,theslavesweretransportedingroupstoshacksoftwoorthreefloors.WithsomeothersSenghorwentuptothehigherrooms.Thewindowsweremerelylongslitsbuttheyallowedairinfromalldirections.Thoughthegroundfloorwasmeantforstorage,someofthemoretroublesomeslavesweredepositedthere.

Atnighttheheatwasstillunbearable.Theslaveswerepermittedontotherooftosleepintheopenair.Evenwiththebreezeofftheseatheairwasstifling.Senghortriedtocounteritbypouringwaterrepeatedlyoverhisbody.Hiseyeswereredbuthedidnotcry.Henolongerthoughtaboutthepast,orthefuture.Allhewantedwastosleeponfirmground.AfewdayslaterSenghorwasplacedwithasmallgroupwhoweresent

totheeastcoastwherefarmworkerswereneeded.Hedidn’tstaylong,forhewassoldtoashaykhinal-Awafi.There,Senghorworkedinthehouseandonthefarmtoo.Hemarriedoneoftheshaykh’sslavewomen.Whenhediedatfortyoftuberculosishehadhadtwodaughterswhodiedofittoo,andasonwhomarriedandhadsonsandadaughterbeforejoiningupwithagangofhighwaymenanddisappearing.HisdaughterAnkabutagrewup,afterherbrothershadallbeensoldaway,asanorphaninthehomeofShaykhSaid.Hehadjustinheritedhisshaykhlypositionfromhisfather,althoughhehadbarelyreachedthesixteenthyearofwhatwouldbeaverylonglife.

AsmaandKhalid

WhenhisbrideAsmarecitedthewordsshe’dmemorisedasachild,aboutrestlesssoulsinsearchoftheirdepartedhalves,Khalidhadsimplyremarked,YoufoundthatinanoldArabicbook?TheDove’sNecklace,likely.TheDove’sNecklace?Asmarepeated.Whowroteabookwithsucha

lovelytitle?Hegaveheraratherloftysmile.AnAndalusianlegalscholarnamed

IbnHazm.Ithinkthisisfromthatbook.Asmaleanedtowardshimeagerly.Butdoyouthinkit’strue,Khalid?

Thatpeople’ssoulsreallywereunitedwhentheworldbegan,andthenweresplitinhalf?Helaughed.Asma,it’sonlyanancientlegend.Thatpeoplewereallthe

same,allonesex,maleandfemaleboth,allchildrenofthemoon.Everybeinghadfourhands,fourfeetandtwoheads,that’swhattheysaid.Andthen,thegodswereafraidthatcreatureswithallofthiswouldbetoostrong,sotheysplitthemintwo.Onlythebellybuttonremainedasareminderofthatoriginalwholeness.Peoplebecameeitheronesexortheother.Eachhalfhastosearchforitsotherhalf.Shewhispered,AmIyourotherhalf,thehalfthatwassplitoff?Hehuggedhertightly.ThehalfIhavefinallyfound.Hehadtoldherhow,justseeingheronce,hehadfalleninlovewith

her.Itwasn’tverylong,though,beforeAsmabegantorealisethatpeoplearenotsimplyunmadehalveswhofindtheirotherhalvesandmiraculouslybecomewhole.Neitherbodiesnorspiritsareemptyglobessplitdownthemiddle;nopairexistswhosesoulsadhereperfectlylikethetwoidenticalhalvesofaperfectlyroundsphere.Evenmoredisturbing,shebegantorealisethattherewasnowayshecouldbeKhalid’sother

half,onceuponatimesunderedbutwhich(heassuredher)hehadnowfound.ThiswasbecauseKhalid,onhisown,tookonthelikenessofacelestial

spherecompleteuntoitself,orbitingonlyalongitsalreadydefinedpath.Khalidknewexactlywhathewantedandnowhewasgettingeverythingheneeded:afondfamily,hisdiploma,andhisartwhich–hemadecleartoAsma–wasatoncehisinnerworldandhispublicwork.WhathadattractedhimtoAsma–asshegazedwide-eyedathiscanvases–wasthatshefithisneedsperfectly.Hehadalreadydecidedonmarriagetoawomanwhowouldsomehowstandoutfromalltheothers,withsomequalityofnote.Hechoseaccordingly,lookingforawomanwhowouldfallinstantlyintotheorbithehadmarkedout,whowouldalwaysbetherebutwouldalsoalwaysstayjustoutside,yetwithoutwantingtocreateherowncelestialsphere,herownorbit.SoheencouragedAsmatocontinuehereducation,thoughatnightschoolbecausethelawnowprohibitedmarriedwomenfromattendingtheregulargovernmentdayschools.Heurgedhertogoondevelopinghersincereloveofreadingandwhensheachieveddistinctioninherteacher’scertificateheencouragedhertogetajob.Afterall,hermatureskillsandaccomplishmentswouldadvancehissocialstatus,nottomentionthattheyconfirmedhisconfidenceinthechoiceshehimselfhadmade.Shewasawifeonecouldbeproudof,andhisacquisitionofherputthefinaltouchonhissocialacceptability.Yes,hehaddoneit:arespectablyablewife,circlingwithinhisgravitationalpull,quietly,invisibly,insideitsorbitalpath,neverstrayingbeyond.Itdidn’ttakelongforAsmatodiscoverallofthis.Nevertheless,she

absorbeditcalmlyandmethodically,herfeelingsalreadycomposinganattitudeofscepticalaffection.Hersentimentswerebalancedandsteady,completelyunlikehis.Atfirsthewasveryconsciousandcarefultoadheretotheorbithehadtracedout,andhewasalwayscheckingtobecertainthatAsmawasrightthere,orbitinginhiswake,andwatchfulaboveallthatsheneverveeredoffcourse.Inhisownfashion,hedidfallinlovewithher.Asthedayspassed,hisincandescentfeelingsdidnotdim,either.He

heldherhighinthefirmament.Shewasararewonder,aradiantandtranslucentbutterflywhoreflectedthelighthislovegenerated.Shewastheflashofperfectionthatconfirmedhissharpsenseoftheworld.ButAsmawasnobutterfly.Shewasn’tonetodiveintotheglareonlytofindherselfscorched.Shehadonlytocalculateaprudentdistance.ShehadalreadylearnedthatthereweretimeswhenthefirewouldgocoldandKhalidwouldslipaway,crawlingorperhapsrunningtohiswarren,drawingthatcirclearoundhimselfandseeminglyforgettingAsmaentirely.Hemightstayinsidethatimperviouslittlecircleofhisfordays,weeks,sometimemonths.ThensuddenlyhewouldonceagainbecomeAsma’spassionatelover,somuchsothathispassiontormentedher,pullingherinsideahellishparadise,ahard-to-sustainworldofabsolutepleasures.Howecstaticallysheblossomedintheearlydaysofhislove,astonishedthatinamatterofdaysshelivedwhatshehadnotlivedinherwholelifetimebefore.Shelovedhimwithastartling,inexplicablethirstandacravingtofeeleverything.Unlikeherhusband,though,shewasnotacreatureofimpulse.She

wasnotinanyhurrytoembraceallthejoysofloveinonegulpofintoxicatingether.Ashewasgrowingquiet,herlovewaspushingitsrootsdeepintotheearth,readytogrow,oneshootuponanother.AtfirstwhenhewentintohisshellAsmawasbewilderedandupsetalmosttothepointofgivingintoherdespair.Butastimepassedandsheaccumulatedexperiencealongwithwisdomandsocialsense,shelearnedhowtoaccommodatetothesituation.Shedidlovehim,too–thissceptical,careful,slightlydistantlove.Butshebegantakingprecautions.Sheformedherowncelestialorbit.Intheend,andwithagreatdealofpatience,self-examination,andoccasionalsacrifice,theylearnedtocreateenoughspacethateachcouldorbitfreely.Whentheycollided,andiftheyfused,AsmaandKhaledknewitwasonlyatemporarydisruption,andthateachpathwouldreturntoitsowncourse.Withtheyears,children,anaccumulationoffriends,andherbooks,

AsmamadeherpeacewithKhalid’sartandself-absorption.Sheleftitalone,thecirclehedrewroundhimself,remaininginsidecontentedwith

nothingmorethanthewoodthatwouldsoonreceivehispaint.Shelearnedpatiencewithhishorses:theirhardeyes,thinbodies,strainingmuscles.Shecoulddealwiththeinvariableshadesofbrown,blackandwhite.Shemadeherpeacewithit,allofit.Inreturn,theartisthadtoreconcilehimselfwiththefactthatshewasherownconstellation,independentandwhole,asphereuntoitself.WhenthechildrenbegantoarriveAsmaorderedabedmadetoher

specifications,wideenoughtoholdallofthem.Theysleptthere,limbsentangledasiftheyhadallsproutedatoncefromherbodywhichlaythereamongthem.Shepersuadedtheartistthat,oncebrandedbychildbearing,amother’sembracecouldnolongerbealover’sembrace.Nowitwasaboutgivingmilkandsecuritytotheseopenmouths,andwavingprotectivescentsinfrontofthesetinynoses.Everybirthconfirmedtoherthatthiswaswhatherlifemeant:hearing

thesharpscreamoflifefromatinybody,sofinelysculptedinallofitsdetails,whichhadcomeoutofhers.Timeaftertime,untilwheneverherbodystoppedmakingnewlife.WhenAsmareachedherforty-fifthbirthday,herbodyhadsproutedfourteenyoungplants,livingforlightandcolour,intheartist’shouse,eveniftheytookinthatlightawayfromthepainter’sremotepaintbrush,poisedinendlessthralltothebridlesofhissilenthorses.

Abdallah

Onthe20thofMarch1986,whenmyfatherhadhisfirstheartattack,LondonwasfiveyearsoldandSalimwastwo.Onthe26thofFebruary1992hediedintheNahdaHospital.MysonMuhammadwasoneyearoldand,thoughwedidn’tyetknowit,hewouldturnouttobeautistic.Ilivedsixyearsinconstantterroratthethoughtofmyfather’sdeath.

Butwhenhediddie,itfeltlikehehadalreadydiedseveraltimes.Thelastofhisdeathsgavenorelief,nomercy.Itdidnothingtodispelmyterror.InthefirstweeksafterhispassingIcouldnotsleep.Iwastooangry.

Ragecreptlikeaslowlitfusethroughmyblood,burningmeasitburroweddeeper.Overandover,obsessively,Isketchedthesceneinmymind:me,standingnexttohisbed,wherehelaycoveredwithawhitesheet,theodourofantisepticeverywhere,peoplecominginlittlegroupsintothewhiteroom,peopletakinghimawayandleadingmetooneoftheirlittlecarts,nooneofferingmeanycondolences.Thedeadmanmustbeburiedfirstandbeforeanythingelsecouldbesaid.Wearriveinthevillageandtheytakehiminsidethehouse.Ihear

Zarifascreaming.Peoplearefillingbucketsofwater,erectingtheritualpalm-branchbenchesinthewestcourtyardandputtingupscreens.Someoneushersmeintherewithmyfather’sbodybecauseI’mtheonewhoshouldwashit,allbymyself.Mayya’sfather,Azzanhimself,handsmethewaterandinstructsmehowtorubmyfather’sbody,partbypart,limbbylimb.JudgeYusuf’ssonAbdal-Rahmanhelpsmedryhimoff,perfumehim,andwraphimintheshroud.Peoplelifthimintothebierandtheysetonecornerofitonmyshoulder.Wemarchtothecemetery,westofal-Awafi.IcanhearpeoplesayingthereisnoGodbutGodinhishonourandalsothescepticalwhisperings.NowSuwaydhasdugthepitandAzzanlowersmeintothisgravesothatIcanreceivemyfather’sbody

andlayitproperlyonitsrightside.Itakeinthemoistfreshnessofthesoildownthere.Iclimbupoutofthegravesothatotherscanmakealayerofstonesovertheshroudedbodybeforetheypileuptheearth.Finallytheyfixalargestoneintothegroundwherehisheadwouldbe,andeveryonereturnstoal-Awafi.Athometoreceivecondolences,I’mgreetedbyonemanandthenext,

andtheyallaskGodtoblessmyperiodofmourningandmakegoodcomeofit.Irespond,overandover.Goddecideshowlongwelive.There’scoffee,lotsofcoffee,andthenlargetraysofriceandmeat.WhendarknessfallsIreturntothehouse,tomyfather’sroom,withnothingbutthisall-encompassinganger.Sevendaysofthis,andthenthemourningperiod–forvisitors,anyway–isover.Someyearslater,otherdetailsenterthispicture.I’llseemyfather’s

bellytrembleslightlyunderthebucketofcoldwater.Thewaterwillformasmallpool,andthispondseepsouttotricklethroughallthealleysofal-Awafi.Theodoursoflotusandembalmingfluidpervadethedampalleyways,andIwillseemyfather’sindexfingerliftedslightly,justenoughtocauseaslightswellingonthewhitedeathshroud.I’llseehishandsweepasidethestonesandthesoil.Onlyhishandremainsthere,outsidethegrave.IwillseeZarifaamputateherownlegsandpluckoutthewhitehaironherhead.

TheManintheDesert

TheplanetSaturnwasdirectlyahead.Themanstandingaloneinthedesertwasreadyforit.HepreparedtheblendofingredientsthatwentintothesmoketobeofferedtoSaturn.Alittlesaffron,flaxandsomesoiledwool,thebrainofacat.Hehadalreadycheckedcarefullytomakecertainthatthereigningsignwasachangeableone,thatthemoonwaswhereitshouldbe,andthatSaturnandMarswerebothalignedfacingthemoon.Aspleasedashewasrelievedbywhathesaw,themanbreathedoutacontentedsighasthereflashedintohismindthewoman’sfaceinthedarknessasshelefthishome.TheBrideoftheFalaj.NowSaturnwasatthepoleofthesky,gazingtowardthetwolitbodies

–thesunandmoon–asthetwofellawayfromeachother.Heblendedthesaffron,flax,brainmatterandfleeceandburntituntil

itwasaproperincense,oftherightdensitybetweenhisfingers.HeputontheritualgarmentsforhiscommunicationwithSaturn.Saturn!Saturndemandedalengthofblackandgreensilk.Onthewristheheldclosesttotheplanetheworecast-ironarmlets,bonesinhishand.Thesolitarymaninthedesertlaunchedhisferventcall.GreatSayyid,

VictoriousOne,CrusherofAll,MightySpirit,ofPureMindandBroadestUnderstanding,PiercingofGazeandAstuteness,ResilientKingandSultanwhoVanquishesTimeitself,CauserofPain,Saturn!ColdDryStar,LoyalStar,TrueinAffections,MasterofSorceryandCunning,AngryandPowerfulinMalice,EverAble,EverRealizingyourDarkPromises,BringerofPainandTorment,ShaykhofCraftandDeception,BringerofWoeonWhosoeverAttemptstoThwartHim,ofMiserytoWhosoeverResistsHim–Ientreatyou,FatherofFathers,MostDeservingofthefealtyofyourgreatancestorsandhonourableassociates,ontheTruthofYourCreatorandtheOnewhogivesyoupower,Bringerofallthatis

sublimeandallthatliesbelowtheearth,Possessorofall:IentreatyoutocutNajiya,daughterofShaykha,fromAzzan,sonofMayya,inthenameofthesespiritsoftheotherworld;toseparatethemasdarknessisseparatedfromlight,andtoleadthemtodespiseeachother,everenemies,liketheenmitybetweenfireandwater.Iaskyou,GreatFather,todonothingotherthanknottingAzzan’scarnaldesireforNajiyatomakethatknot–bythepoweroftheseotherworldlyspirits–ashardandfastastheknottingoftheserockfacesandboulders.

Khawla

NowthatAsmawasmarried,Khawlawasaloneinthehousewithhermother.Onrareoccasionsherfatherjoinedthem.Heneversmiled.Althoughhermotherwasnotseverewithher,Khawlafeltdejectedand

irritatedbytheconstrictedlifeathomeasthedayswenton,andshewithdrewintoherselfmoreandmore.Hersingle-mindedfixationonherfigureandherlooksbecameanobsession.Shealmostwentmad.ShewaitedforNasirwithaconvictionthatsimplywouldnotadmitanyofthedoubtothersweretryingtoinstilinher.ShewasVirginieinthetaleofPaulandVirginie;Laylainthelegendofherpoet-lover’sdevotion,soobsessivehewasnicknamedMajnun,theMadOne;shewasthetragicJuliet.Shewasallthewomenthroughalltheageswhoselovehadbeeneternalandtrue,whohadsacrificedthemselvesoutofloyaltytothatlove.Theonlypassagethathadmeantanything,amongstthemanyculturalnuggetswithwhichAsmawasalwaystryingtorefineher,wasthestoryaboutthesoulssplitapartwhowereforeversearchingrestlesslyforcompletionandwouldfindrestonlywhentheywerereunited.KhawladiscoveredthatthisideawasnotinTheDove’sNecklaceafterall,butinamuchlessfamousbookcalledal-Zahra.Theimportantpoint,though,wasthatNasirwasherhalf-soul,andsohewouldinevitablycomeback.Nasircameback.True,shehadtowaitanotherfiveyearsandrefuseatleasttenoffersof

marriagebeforeNasirreturned.Buthecamebacktoher.Atleast,that’sthewayitlookedtoher.ThetruthwasthatNasircame

backhavingcompletelyrunoutoffundsinCanada.Yearsbefore,hisscholarshiphadbeensuspended.Hehadlivedontheverylimitedexpensemoneythathismotherhadsenthimsecretly,plusminorjobsthatheneverstayedwithforlong.Thenhismotherdied.Hewasthrown

outofhislatestjob.Hehadnochoicebuttocomebacktoal-Awafi,wherehesoondiscoveredthathismotherhadputconditionsonherwill.IfhewantedhisinheritancehewastomarryKhawla.SohemarriedKhawla,andhegotthemoney,andtwoweeksaftertheweddingheflewbacktoCanada.Beforehismother’sdeath,Nasirhadsettleddownwithagirlfriendina

littlehouseinMontreal.ReturningfromhisshortfuneraryvisittoOman,hedidn’tseeanycompellingreasontotellherabouthismarriage.Fortenyears,NasirreturnedtoOmanonceeverytwoyearstoseethenewchildinhishouseandtoleaveKhawlapregnantagain.Khawlaheldonfiercelytoherdream.Nasirhadcomebacktoherand

shewouldnotlosehimasecondtime.Themorepatiencesheshowedwithhisserialabandonment,themoreestimablesheseemedinherowneyes,ifnotinanyoneelse’s,andthemoresenseitallmadetoher.Herpainfullifewasexemplary;itwastheepitomeofthegreatestsortoflove,asublimeandself-immolatinglovethatcouldnotbeshatteredbyanything,noteventhecruelharshnessofthelover,whowouldnosoonerarriveinOmanthanhewouldwraphimselfinlongtelephoneconversations;whohungaphotoofhisCanadiangirlfriendonhiscarkeyring;whobroughtfancyclothesfromCanadaforhischildrenbutneverintherightsizesbecausehedidn’tevenknowhowoldtheywere.Wheneverhersistersorhermotherrebukedher,Khawla’sresponse

wasthesame.Heworksthere,buthe’llcomebacktohisowncountryintheend.He’llcometohissenses,he’llcomebacktohiswifeandchildren,andhishome.He’sagoodmanatheartandthat’swhatwillbringhimback.Whenherdreamcametrue–whentheCanadiangirlfriendleftNasir,

throwinghimoutofthehouseinMontreal–heandKhawlahadalreadybeenmarriedforadecade.Hecameback.Hefoundagoodjobinacompany,andhebegantogettoknowhiswifeandchildren.

Abdallah

Atabouttheageoften,LondonwouldaccompanyhermotherregularlyonjauntstoTheFamilyBookstoreinMuscat.Hermotheralwaysboughtchildren’sbooksinEnglishforher.Althoughbythentherewerequiteafewbookstoresinthecity,TheFamilyBookstorewastheoldestandremainedthemostprominent.Itwasnolongerdedicatedtothepurposeforwhichithadbeenestablishedlateinthenineteenthcentury:foundedandbuiltasashopspecialisinginBibles,itwasanarmoftheAmericanmissionaryeffortinOman.Butatsomepoint,someonerealisedthatageneralbookstoreofferingagoodrangeoftitleswouldbemoreappealingtotheordinaryreaderthanashopsellingtheGospels.Andso,inthelate1960s,itacquiredanewnameandalargerfootprint,andtherewereevenattemptstolaunchbranchoutlets.Thereputationitgraduallymadeforitselfasasecularbookstoreledtocriticism.TheMiddleEastCouncilofChurchesinvestedinmajoreffortstoreturnittoitsmissionarycommitments.Mayyawasn’tconcernedwiththebookstore’sreligioushistory.Shehad

asingle,cleargoal:thatLondonlearntoreadinEnglish.Later,heraimwasthatMuhammadlearntospeak.Whenheturnedfivehereffortsfinallyborefruitandtheboybegantotalk.Butheusedwordsdifferentlythanotherchildrendid,andhiscommunicationswithusremainedfundamentallydependentonsignsandgestures.Althoughthedoctorsmadeitcleartomethatautismwasnotan

inheritedcondition,nordidithaveanythingtodowiththeenvironment,theuncertaintyaboutwhathadcauseditpersuadedMayyaandmenottohaveanymorechildren.WhenIseeMuhammad,Itrytorememberthingsaboutmyown

childhood.HowdidIfeelaboutlifewhenIwashisage?Butwhatever

floatstothesurfaceofmyconsciousnessisconnectedtotheBigHouse,builtofgypsumplasterwhichmyfatherrebuiltincement,addingonmanymorerooms.IcanremembertheexactcoloursoftheballsIwasnotallowedtoplaywithinthestreetwiththeotherboys;thetinyflashingmirrorsonmyIndian-madecoat;thestatuesquefigureofmyuncle’swifebeforetheymovedtoWadiAday;thefatgoldbraceletsonmyaunt’swrist;thefragranceofthepaper-thinbreadasZarifapulleditfromthehotoven;thehornofpeppercornsinmymouthonthedayHabibmarriedher.Iboughtherfortwentycoins,myfatherwouldsay.Attheworstofthe

economiccrisis,whenabigsackofriceimportedfromCalcuttaorMadrascostonehundredcoins,andZarifacosttwenty.ThesewerethesilverMariaTheresacoinswhichcouldnotbefaked

becausethesilverwassopure.Myfatherhoardedthem,keepingtenortwentyorfiftyintheleatherbagthathealwaysknottedontohisbelt.Foralongtimehehadnothingbutscornforthepaperriyalsthathadsinceappeared,untilhewasforcedtobowtotheirsuperiorpower.Mayya,ontheotherhand,seemedcompletelyenamouredofriyals.Her

dream,shetoldme,wasthatweacquireasmanyriyalsaswepossiblycouldsothatwecouldleaveal-AwafiandbuildanicehouseinMuscat.Meanwhile,hermotherwasdemandingthatIpromisenottotakehertothecity.ThatirritatedMayya.Shewouldnotliveforever,herwholeandentirelife,undertheswayofhermother,inthewaythatIlivedcompletelycowedbymyfather’severyword,shedeclared.WhentherumoursspreadaboutthedisappearanceofthealluringBedouinwoman,herfather’slover,Mayyasaid,Mymotherhassomethingtodowiththis.Buthermotherwasawomanwhoneverleftthehouse.Howcouldshehaveplayedaroleinthewoman’sdisappearance?SomesaidtheBedouinwomanhadcomedownwithamysterious

diseasethatmadepartsofherbeautifulbodydropoff,orthatherlimbswererottingaway,beforeshevanished.OtherssaidshesoldherhouseandcamelandwenttosettleinMatrahinordertosellherBedouinneedlework.Stillotherssaidshehadsuddenlygonemadandsoher

friendscarriedherofftoIbnSinaHospital.Wordalsowentaroundthatherneighbours,whohadturnedthesatellitedishintheirtwo-storeyhouseintoanenormoustroughwheretheirlivestockateclover,respondedtohersarcasticwordsaboutthembytraininghermongoloidbrothertoshootbulletsandmakinghimbelievethathissisterhadbroughtshameuponallofthem.Theytaughthimhowtousethepistol.Theyburiedthecorpsesecretlyonenightbeneaththebiggestsanddune.

Khalid

Asmaasked,Whydoyoudraw,Khalid?Tofreemyselffromexistingonlyinsidethenarrowspaceofmyfather’s

imagination,andthentore-inventmylifeinthespaceofmyown.AllthetimeIwasachild,andallthewayintomyearlytwenties,myfather’sviewofmewasdefinedbywhathesawinhishead.Hehadhisownfanciesanditwasalwaysveryclearjusthowfartheywent–andnofurther.Iwasthefuelthatfiredhisimaginationandhiswholeimageofme,forever,wasbasedonhisabsolutecertaintythatIwouldbethelivingversionofwhatwasinhismind.Heneverquestionedthis!So,doingartbecameasnecessarytomeasdrinkingwaterandbreathingair,andthatbeganintheverymomentIrealisedIcouldn’tlivethisway,Icouldn’tsurvivewithoutfollowingmyownimagination.Artandimaginationarealikeinthatway,Asma.Theygivesomekindofworthtomyexistence.Nomatterhowfineandpleasantrealitymaybe,withoutimaginationlifebecomes...well,unbearable.Doyouseethewaypeoplemovethroughlife–andImean,justthe

littlebitsoftheirlivesyoucansee?Mostoftheirmovementthroughlifeisinvisible,itgoesoninsideofthem,soforusitexistsbeneaththesurface.Theirownprivateworlds,theirimaginations.WhenIliberatedmyselffromlivingthroughmyfather’sheadIcreatedmyownimaginationwithapaintbrush.Igrewmyhairlong,andmybeard,IworejeansI’drippedupdeliberately,andIdroppedoutoftheCollegeofEngineeringsoIcouldentertheCollegeofFineArts.SometimesIwentonpaintinguntilIcollapsedfromexhaustion.IfI

wasdoinganythingelse,evenjustwalkingdownthestreetorsomethingsimplelikethat,Ifeltlikepartofmyhandwasmissingbecauseitwasn’tholdingapaintbrush.Thebrushwaspartofmyhand,growingwithit.

MybrushbreathedthesamewayIdid.Ilivedinmypaintings,whateverwasoutsidenolongerconcernedme,ortouchedme,really.AllIneededwasmyimagination.TheenergyIhadforsketchingandpaintingwasinsane.ItwasasifIwassufferingfromafever:Ilivedinafogofsweatanddeliriumandfeelingcompletely,absolutelyonewithmyart.Myartsavedmefromactingouttheimagemyfatherhadmadeforme.

IssatheEmigrantcouldn’tforgetforamomentthathewasanemigrant.Hecarriedhishistorylikeitwashisdestiny,andhewasalwaysworkingtomakesurehisfirstbornsonwouldcarryhishistorytoo.Thissonofhiswouldbehisrevenge,whichhecouldwaveinthefaceofdefeat,frustration,andforcedabsencefromthehomelandthathadbetrayedhim.Everyday,IssatheEmigrantclosedhiseyestoopenthemontothe

truthofhisidentity.HewouldgooutandmingleintheCairostreets,hewouldspendeveningschattingwithEgyptians,heputhischildrenthroughEgyptianuniversities.Buthedidn’tforgetforasecondthathewasIssa,sonofShaykhAli,whocarriedtheburdenandthewoesofOmanonhisshoulders.ShaykhAliwasinthedelegationthataccompaniedShaykhIssabinSalih,theImam’sambassador,onthedaythefamousTreatyofSibwassignedbetweentheEnglishandtheSultan,ononeside,andtheImamandthetribesalliedwithhimontheother.Heneverforgothowpositivelyoverjoyedhisfatherwaswhenthistreatywassigned.Itgavethemfreedomofmovementintheinterior,andinfluenceonmoretribes,andhelpedthemspreadtheircallsforunityandorganizationinpreparationtogoagainsttheEnglish.AllthedetailsofhishistoryandidentitykeptIssatheEmigrantawakenights.Manytimeshemademelistentohimtalkaboutthespiritsofhisgrandfathersthathebelievedhewasnowfaithfullyrepresentingonearth.Hisgreat-grandfatherShaykhMansurbinNasirwasamongthecavalrywhocombatedMutlaqtheWahhabiinhisrepeatedraidsonOmanis.HewasinthebattlewheretheOmanisheldonsofiercelytotheirswordsthattheirhandswerestiffandrigidaroundthembythetimedarknessfell.Intheirsongsthewomenrecounthowwomensoakedthefighters’handsin

wateruntiltheysoftenedenoughfortheswordstodrop.ShaykhMansur’snameitselfwasinmorethanoneofthosewomen’ssongs,whichtheywentonsingingintheirweddingpartieslongaftertheevent.Songsthatexpressedtheextraordinarycourageoftheshaykhwhosewhitesteedflewwithhim,hishandsfirmonhissword,puttingterrorinthemenofMutlaqal-Wahhabi.IssatheEmigrantcarriedonhisbackthesoulsofthoseforefathers.HefoughtatJabalal-AkhdaratthesideoftheImamGhalibal-Hina’i.Heburiedtheirmartyrswithhisownhandsandcarriedsecretmissivesundercoverofdarkness.Whentheyweredefeatedandscatteredhefled.Heemigrated,butitwasonlyhisbodythatwent.Hissoulwastooheavytogo.Whatdidhewanttomakemeinto?Afighter?Amartyr?Ayoung

shaykhfeedingthehungryandfindingrefugefortheweak?AshaykhoftodaywhowouldstamphisapprovalonletterscontainingthedemandsofBedouinsandpeasants?Somekindofoppositionactivist?What?WhentherevolutiontookfireinDhofarherefusedtoevendiscussit.Hesimplyrejectedthewholeidea,andhewasfuriousaboutthewholething.ThoseCommunists?hewouldshout.Outofthequestion!ThiswillneversuitOman.Never.Everyevening,IhadtoreadpassagesfromthebookTheGemof

NotablePeopleintheHistoryoftheFolkofOmanbyShaykhal-SalmiouttohimuntilIhadthewholetextbyheart.HeusedtotakemewithhimtotheNileRiverCornicheinthelateafternoonsandwhilewewerewalkinghewouldaskmetorecitethefamouspoembyAbuMuslimal-Bahlani,withitspowerfulmemoriesofhisearlylife.Toreciteitfromthefirstlineallthewaytoend.Heexplainedtome–manytimesheexplainedtome!–thatthisnineteenth-centuryfellow,AbuMuslim,mightbeanOmanibuthewasnolessapoetthanwashisfamousEgyptiancontemporaryAhmadShawqi.Youreallymustlearnbyhearteverylastpoemhecomposed,hewouldexclaim.Andnotonlythepoemthateveryoneknows.ButhowhecriedwhenIrecitedlinesfromit.

Stabsoflightningpiercemelikethewailofthegrievedcameleer

Why,sadone,areyousomnolentanddull?

Itsgrimswordsclovetheheavens,inanarmyofcloudstorushonward

Ohomelandsorelymissed,cloudsandrainoverall.

AndthenwhenIgottocertainotherlineshemademerepeatthemtensoftimes.

ThoseplacesinwhichIcouldnotstayonandon

Yetinmyhope-filledmind,stilltheyreside

FarawayhaveIgonebutneverhaveIleftthem:

Butthen,howmanytimesisbodytornfromsoul!

Thenhewouldtakeover,recitingthenextsectionofthepoemhimself,butonlygettingsofar,alwaysasfarasthesameline.

Idepartedthem,overruled,andIcouldnotprevail

Nopersoncansurmountwhatisdecreed

Withaheavysigh,almostamoan,hewouldaskmetogoonwhilehelistenedwithoutanotherword.HewascompletelyinfatuatedwithAbuMuslimal-Bahlaniandhetoldmeallabouttheman.Hewassomanythings:areformer,amanofenlightenment,anditseemshehadsomekindofintuitivecreativity.Earlyinthecentury,AbuMuslimfoundedthefirstOmaninewspaper.HecalleditSuccessandpublisheditfromZanzibar,wherehewaslivingthen.AndhispoetrycollectionwasthefirstvolumeofversebyanOmanieverpublished.Hewrotemanyotherbooks,like,onIslamicjurisprudence,andonmorals.MyfatherwasalwayskeentogethishandsonfirsteditionsofwhateverAbuMuslimwrote.AbuMuslimsupportedtheImamsandscholarsinOmanheartandsoul,eventhoughfateneverallowedhimtomeetmostofthem.Myfatherhandledhisaffairswhilehewasinexile.Heworkedcloselywithsomeothersupporterstoprintal-Bahlani’spoetryalongwithsomeotherOmanibooksattheAleppoPressinCairo.Wespentlonghoursstackingupthe

copies,organisingthemsocustomerscouldseethem,butIhavenoidea,andIdidn’tthen,howmyfatherplannedtomarketthem,orevendistributethem.Whowouldreadthem,anyway?MyfatherenrolledmeintheCollegeofEngineeringbecause,hesaid,

thefutureinOmanwasforengineersandlawyers.Andtimeaftertimehehinted–veryclearly!–thatifIknewwhatwasgoodformeIwouldn’tsomuchasglanceatanyEgyptiangirl.Infact,heputittomebluntly.Wemayliveherebutwe’renotfromhere.Wewon’tleaveanythingofourselveshere.WhenwedieourcoffinswillbecarriedtoOman.That’swherewe’llbeburied.Thiskeptmeawakeatnight–theattempttoimaginethisplace,which

Ibarelyhadanychildhoodmemoriesof,sinceIhadbeenmadetoleaveitsoearly.Whatparticularlytormentedmewastheimageofourcoffins,blackandgloomy,linedupnexttoeachother.Myfather’scoffin,mymother’s,mine,mysister’s,mybrother’scoffin–lyingintheholdofanairplanetakingofffortheimpossiblejourneythatwewouldnevermakewhilealive,thejourneyfromCairotoMuscat.Andtheimageofusasdead,us,liftedoutofourboxesbyrelativesIwouldneverhavegottentoknow,sowecouldbeburiedinhershroudsundertheburningsunwestofal-Awafi,inthegraveyardwherenotasingletreegrew,notevenanyscrubbylittledesertbushes.SomanytimesIhopedmyfatherwouldreversehisplan,thathewouldhaveusburiedinoneofCairo’scemeteries,sonoisywithmovementandlife,withtheirvendorsandQur’anreciters–orthathewouldputusinanairplane,livebodiesratherthancorpses,headedforMuscat.Thathewouldn’talreadyassignourcoffinstothehold.WhenIcouldfinallyshakemyselfloose,whenImanagedtonolonger

liveinsidetheimageofmehehadinhishead,Ifinallyfoundoutwhatfreedomtasteslike.Itwassuchagoodtaste!Peoplechoosetheirownbooks,onestheyactuallywanttoread.Andtheirownfriends,andthecitiesthey’refondof.Howliberatedapersonfeelswhenit’sfinallynolongeraquestionofbeingjustanextensionorembodimentofsomeoneelse’sfancy,evenifthatsomeoneelseisyourfather.Mychronic

headachesendedandIlostmypathologicalfearofbeinginsideaclosed-indarkplace.SuddenlyIwasaddictedtospendingallmyhoursinthestreetsofCairo,mystreets,Ihadnotknownanyothers–andwithrealfriends,oneswhoyelledoutslogansastheymarchedinthestreets,whodrewpicturesandhaddreamsandcouldteaseeachother.Peoplewhoweren’tsimplythefadedmentalcreationsoftheirfamiliesortheirelders,andwhoseblurredidentitiesorboundariesmadethemseemmorelikeetherealangelswhomIcouldn’tactuallyseeortouch.IssatheEmigrantwentquiet.Hedidn’tcometomyfirstexhibition,hedidn’treadasinglearticleonmyartandhetreatedmewithacoldnessthatwasprobablybothdisdainanddespair.ButjustwhenIbegantoforgetthatthereexistedaplacecalledOman,mysisterGhaliyadied.Ihadn’teverhadthefeelingthatourworldsweresolinked,so

frighteninglyenmeshed,theworldsofmeandmyfamily,untilGhaliyadied.Ourworldsfellapart.Weallfoundtheworldweinhabitedcollapsedaroundus,Myfatherandmother,me,mybrother.Infrontofthesimplequestionofwheretoburyher,itsuddenlybecamefrighteninglycleartome–tome,thefree,theliberated,artist–whoseheadwasfulloffreedom–howdeepthehiddentiesbetweenuswent,howstrongtheywere,andhowmyworldcouldbedestroyedinamomentiftheirscavedin.Ithinkitwasonlytwodaysbeforemyfather’shairturnedwhite!We

packedourcases.Wereturned,allofus,stillalive.NotGhaliyathough.Shewasashadowofmynightmarishimagination.Inhercoffininthehold.NolongerwasthevoyagetoOmananimpossibletrip.Itwasn’tjusta

round-tripticket,either,alittlespaceinwhichwewouldburyabelovedsister,andreturninallsimplicitytoCairo,toourhome,ourwork,ourfriends.No.Thisunexpectedtripitselfbondedusinsomehiddenbutreallyprofoundway.Thetripwasthestrongropethattiedustogetherandwouldyankusoutofthedreamandthenightmareboth,atthesametime.Itfreedusfromtheideathatreturningwasimpossibleorunreal.Itmadereturningintosomethingyoucouldactuallydo,somethinglikely,

and–wesuspecteditthen–permanent,too.Ghaliyapaidforourliberationwithherdeath.Therehadtobeanoffering,asacrifice.Abridgeacrosswhichmyfatherwalked,andwefollowed,toOman.Ghaliya’sdeadbody,hercoffin,whichwascarriedtothetreelesscemeteryinal-Awafi–thecoffinofthedaughterborninCairo,thedaughterwholivedinCairo–wasourbridge.

Asmaandthemoon

Asma,stillabride,cametovisitherfather.Notlongafterherweddinghehadsuddenlycomedownwithafevernoonecoulddiagnose,andhewasbedridden.Histemperaturewouldn’tcomedown.WhenAzzansawherheleanedbackagainstacushionandaskedhertorecitesomeofal-Mutanabbi’spoetry.Asma’svoicewassubduedatfirstbutitstartedgatheringfervourassherecited.

Withthesedan-chairs’departuremynightsarelong

Forlovers’nightsstretchendless

TheyshowmethefullmoonIhavenocravingfor

Andhideamoontowhichthereisnoway

Afterthelovedones,Ihavenotlivedinsolace

Butahh,themisfortunes—thosestillmustIbear

Herfather’shandwentupandAsmastopped.Staringathishands,shenoticedhowpaleandweaktheylooked,andhowwhitethehairwasattheroots,whereitwasparted.Shefeltconfused.Theroomseemedveryhot,radiatinghisfever.Shewasembarrassedatthetracesofhennastillvisibleonherhands.Shewishedshehadthecouragetouseherhands,topressthemagainstherfather’srobe,tomakehimlieflatonhisbedandthentosmoothhishair.Theairwassoheavy.Shehadanoddurgetoapologisetohimbutshedidn’tknowwhy.Thelotus-thorntreehadgrownenoughthatitsleavesnowpressed

againstthewindow.Theheatseemedtobegettingworse.Avisionofherfuturechildrencrowdingintotheroomtosurroundtheirgrandfather’sbedforceditselfonherbuttheimageseemedtoerasehispaleface.Shewasconfusedintocompletesilencebuthishandrescuedher.Hisfingers

weretryingtograspabarelyvisibletatterednotebooktightlyenoughtotugitoutfromunderhispillow.Asmastudiedthetitle:FromtheSessionsoftheBrilliantScholarJudgeYusufbinAbdal-Rahman.Whenshecrackedopentheboundnotebook,itspagesfellopenwherealeafhadbeenstuckasabookmark.Azzannoddedather.Shebegantoread.Knowthatthestarsofthefirmamentemptytheirgemsintothemoon,

andthemoonspillsthemintothewater.Theforceofthewatersplitsthemintoallthegemsthatexistincreation.Themoonisthetreasurehouseforwhatisonhighandwhatliesbelow.Themoonmovesbetweenhighandlow,betweenthesublimeandthefilthofcreation.Ofallthecelestialbodies,themoonisclosesttothemattersofthislowerworld.Andsoitisaguidetoallthings.Contemplatethestateofthemoonuntilyouknowitwell.Itssoundnessisthestrengthofallthings,itsruinthecorruptionofallthings.Ifthemoonmovesclosertoanothercelestialbodythenitgivesmoreforcetowhateverthatbodycantellusorgiveus.Whenthemoonmovesawayfromanotherbodyinthefirmamentitweakensthatsphere’spower.Whenthemoon’slightintensifiesinitsapproachtoMercury,thatisthebeststateofall.ButifthemoonlightisweakasitconfrontsSaturn,ormovesclosertoit,thisistheworstofallworlds.

Abdallah’smother

AwomanasyoungandasstrongasFatimaUmmAbdallahcouldnotpossiblydieinamatteroftwoorthreedaysunlessshe’dcontractedafeverasshewasgivingbirth.That’swhatpeopleinal-Awafisaid.Ankabutamadecertainthateveryoneknewshehadcarriedthespecialchildbirthfoodregularlytothejinn-womanBaqiiasothatthejinniwouldnotharmFatima,orbabyAbdallah.AndAnkabutasworethatshehadn’ttakenevenonebitefromthehugetrayoffoodshecarriedonherheadtoBaqiia.Shealwaysleftthefood,exactlyasshehadbroughtit,atthejinn-woman’sfavouriterock.Andthensheleftimmediatelywithoutevenoncelookingbehindher.Notlongbeforethis,Zaydclaimed,theyoungwomanwhosedeathwassopuzzlinghaduprootedthebasilbushherselfratherthansummoninghimtodoit.AndthatshetoldhimtheodourofbasilattractsvipersandshewasafraidforAbdallah.Evenifhewasanewborn,itwouldn’tbethatlongbeforehecouldsitup,andthensoonafterthathewouldbecrawling.MerchantSulayman’ssisterinsistedthatshehadbeenverycareful.She

hadsupervisedthefoodpreparationherself.Butsomehow,withindays,thepoorwomanchangedcolour.Sheturnedblue.Zaydinsistedshewasthesortofwomanwhosimplycouldn’tescapebeingthetargetofsomeone’ssorcery.Hewasverysureofwhathewassaying,hetoldthem,especiallysincehewastheonewhoworkedallnightlongatthecanalsoutsidetown,andsoheknewallthesecretsofthenight-folk.Shewasagoodwomanwhomindedherownbusiness,Maneensaidsadly,andshedidn’tforgettosendhimsweetsaftertheboywasborn.ShaykhSaid’smothersaidthateverypersoninthisworldwillbe

servedintheafterlifewhatsheservedothersinthislife.Godforbears.Hedoesnotneglectthegoodonesamongus,shesaid.

Peoplewerestartledbyherwords.Whatwasshehintingat?Zarifakeptquiet.

CousinMarwan

Evenwhenhewasverylittle,Marwanremembers,hehadheardhismothertellthestoryofthedreamshe’dhadwhenshewaspregnantwithhim,andJudgeYusuf’sinterpretation.Youwillhaveason,hesaid,whowillberighteousandgood.Pure,andanimportantman.ShewantedtonamehimMuhammadorAhmad,butthebabyalreadyhadbrotherswiththesenames.SoshenamedhimMarwan,seekingagoodomenfromthenameofherdeceasedbrotherwhohadraisedher.Shebroughttheboyuponthesoundnessofherdream,whichshebelievedinfiercely,andthat’swhyshegavehimasecondmoniker,‘thePure’,whicheveryoneelsebegantouse,too.SheworkedhardtoimplantaloveofknowledgeanddevotiontotheFaithinhimfromhisearlydays,andshepushedhimtowardtheShaykhatthemosque,wantingMarwantoshadowhim.That’sthewayhegrewup,hisheartattachedtothemosque.MarwanthePurecommittedtoheartthewholeoftheNobleHadith.

Surelythisalonewasproofthathewasamongsttheelect,thosewhomGodwouldshadeandprotectontheDaywhenthereisnoshadetobehadbutHis.MarwangrewupobeyingGodtotheletter.Becausehisheartwassoattachedtothemosquehescornedthegamesofotherboysandtheirinterestintrivialthings.Hefoundnothingtoadmireaboutthetimepeoplespentinwastefulpleasures.HehadnouseforchitchatorforanythingelsethatstolemomentsfromthequietcontemplationofGod’screation.Heburiedhimselfinthispurelittleworldthatencasedhim.WhenhisparentsmovedtoWadiAday,leavingal-Awafi,theychoseahousenearthemosquesothattheirchildrenwouldberaisedonthethresholdofthemosquethere,andparticularlysothat,inthenewenvironment,MarwanthePurewouldnotfindhimselfcutofffromhislifeofdevotions.

Hewasnumberfour,followingHamad,MuhammadandQasim.AfterhimcameHilalandAsim.Buthehimselfrecognisedearlythathewasmadeofadifferentclay,andhewasacutelyawareofthepridehisparentstookinhim.Heknewhowtheytalkedabouthim.Hestayedapart,refusingtoplaywithhisbrothersorevenexchangemuchconversationwiththem.Thesesillymatterswerenotworthyofhim,whosespecialnesshadbeenforetoldinthedream,whowasvowedanddestinedtoworksofgreatness.MarwanthePurewasthirteenwhenhesnuckinthenighttohis

parents’roomandstoleallthemoneyhefoundinhisfather’swallet.Thenextdayhebeathimselfsorewithhisfather’scaneandvowedtofastfortwoweeks.Threemonthslaterhesnuckintohisbigbrothers’roomandstolethemoneyinQasim’swallet.BythetimeMarwanhadcompletedhissixteenthyear,hehadfasteda

totalofeightmonthsandfourteendaysaspenanceforhisthefts.Theneighbourssworethatlightpouredfromhisfaceandthathiseyes,fastingfromthefleetingpleasuresofthisworld,gaveofftheeverlastinggraceofthehereafter.Thegirlswerecrazyinlovewithhisslow,leisured,gentlegait,thepaceofapersonwhohasnothingtofear.Theyadoredhisgraveeyesthatnevermetthegazeofanygirl.Noonesawthetracesoftheself-inflictedblowstohisback,punishmentforallhehadstolen,whichbynowconsistednotonlyofmoneybutalsoincludedwatchesandarticlesofclothing,evenhismother’searringsandshoes.Moreoften,now,hedressedonlyinwhite,andherarelyspoke.Andwhenhisfacewentpalefromsomuchfasting,nooneremainedindoubtthathewassomekindofsaint,oneofthepious,righteousFriendsofGod.Yes,bythetimeMarwanreachedtheendofhissixteenthyear,hehad

fastedatotalofeightmonthsandfourteendaysbutheknewverywellthathewouldnotstopstealing,justashewasperfectlyawarethathehadnoneedofanyofthethingshestole.Hehadn’tcometotermswiththeshockhisownbehaviourgavetohispurenature.Whatcouldhethink?Hedidn’tbelievethiscreaturewasreallyhim,theboywhospentsomuchtimeindevotionsatthemosque,whocreptintoroomsatnightandstole

worthlessobjects.Itrippedhimapart;hecouldalmosthearthesoundsofhisbodysplittingandshredding.Everythinggotconfused,hismother’sdreamandhisowngrandsenseofhimself,trivialgamesandpleasures.Andhestole,hewhomGodHimselfwastoscreenwiththeformidableshadeofHisheavenlythrone.Hestole.ThePureOnewhowaseverwatchfultokeephimselfclean,whobarelyraisedhiseyesfromtheground.Hestole.TheonewhohadbeenvowedtoGod,theoneofwhomgladtidingshadcome.Hestole.Hispurehandsreachedtostealthatwhichhedidnotevenneedandwouldcertainlyneveruse.MarwanthePuredidnotrevealhissecret.Hescornedhimselftothe

measurethatothersesteemedhisworth.Hedespisedotherstothemeasurethathevaluedhimself.Hedeafenedhisearstothesoundofthetearingthatechoedsoloudlyinsidehimbutthatnooneelsecouldhear.Theclosedcircleofhislifetightenedaroundhim.Hededicatedhimselftofastingandisolationandworshipashisheartfracturedinagonizingpain.Marwandidnotrevealhissecrettoanyone.Hedidnotdare,inhis

alonenessandapartness,toextendhishandstohisLord,inhopesthatHemightshowhimtheway.ForMarwanwascertainthatheknewtherightpath:thiswastheonlyone.HewasthePureOneandhemustremainthus,aspeoplehadcometoknowhim,ashismotherhadwilledhimtobe,ashehimselfhadbeenconvincedof.Thisthievinghandofhis–hewouldamputateitifitreturnedtoitsways.Afterhisfatherdiedandhismothercameoutofhermourningperiod,

hesnuckintoherroomonenightandstolehernewperfume,hisfather’ssilverdagger,andapaltrysumofmoneyhefoundonthetable.Momentsbeforedawnhecuttheveinsinhisthievinghandwiththesharpdaggerblade.Everpure,everalone,Marwanbledtodeath.

Sulayman

Inthe1890samajorslumpintheOmanidatetradedroveayoungmerchantbythenameofHilaltoseekanewsourceofprofitthatwouldlethimbenefitfromallthemercantileexperiencehe’dalreadyaccumulated.ResourcefulHilalrealisedquicklythatthearmstradewasthesmartalternative.SultanFaisal’s1891proclamationinstructedOmanistorefrainfromimportingweaponsintoJawadirPort,butMerchantHilalandhiscommerce-savvyfriendsbecameincreasinglydependentonweaponsasasuresourceofprofit,especiallysincetheycouldchannelgunstotheAfghanswhoseemedtoneedaconstantsupplyfortheirraidsandtheirfeuds.LoadsofsmuggledweaponscameinfromPersianmerchantsonthecoast,tobestoredinclandestinewarehousesuntiltheycouldbesoldtomencomingfromthetribesofBaluchistanandAfghanistan.SomemerchantssucceededinsmugglingweaponsallthewaytoIndiaandZanzibar,butMerchantHilalpreferreddealingwiththeAfghansandPersians,sincehebelievedthattheportofJawadirwasasaferbetthananyoftheotherpossibilities.ButHilalfoundhiscommercebadlyreversedaftertaxeswereraisedonweaponsimports.Nevermind,though–thetraderevivedwiththenewcentury,andHilaljoinedforceswithagroupofIndianmerchantswhowereimportinggunsdirectlyfromEurope.TheywereledbyamancalledKemjiRamDas.Onthe22ndofJanuary1908,whentheS.S.JayuladalaarrivedintheportofMuscatcomingfromEurope,MerchantHilal’ssharewasfiftyfullchestsofammunition.He’dalreadymanagedtosellpopcornriflesinJawadirportforseventydollarseachandthatmadehimarichmanveryquickly.Nowhesoughtmarriageintoashaykhlyfamilyinal-Awafi.Hissonandheir,Sulayman,wasbornaftermorethantenyearsofmarriage.Nevertheless,hisson’sarrivalmustbeagoodomen,thoughtMerchant

Hilal.Agoodstarttofoundingadynasty.Siblingswouldsurelyarrive.ButeveryboyborntoHilalafterSulaymanwaskidnappedbydeathwhilestillanursingbaby.PeoplewhisperedthatSulaymanwasafflictedwithqashi’a,andthediseasemustbefataltohislittlebrothers.Hisfathertookhimtoaspecialistwhosatthelittleboyinfrontofhimandpeeredintohisskulltofindtheerrantveininhisheadthat–ifitflaredandmovedtoofar–wouldmeanthedeathofeveryboybornafterhim.Whenthedoctorpinpointedthelocationofthevein,heshoutedthenewsatthetopofhisvoice.HeheatedametalskeweroveraflameandsearedSulayman’sheadwherehebelievedthevein–ortheqashi’a–tobe,untilitdiedcompletely,nevermakinganotherappearancethatwouldkillhismalesiblings.SoMerchantHilalhadthreechildrenwholived:SulaymanandhisverylastsonIshaq.Therewasalsoagirl,scrawnyandpale,whospentherentirechildhood

asarecluse,mindandbodyshutaway,untilshewasmarriedofftoamaternalcousin,andlateron,tothatcousin’sbrother.Bothcousinsdivorcedherinturn.Zarifahatedher.Ishaqresembledhismotherinherhesitantbearingandintroversion.It

wasSulaymanwhoinheritedeverything:hisfather’smercantilesavvy,quickmind,tallandimposingfigure,gravedignity,andthelargehousebuiltofplaster–aswellashisnervousdispositionandthetitleofMerchant.ButSulaymandidnottradeinweapons.Toallappearances,dateswerewhatoccupiedhisworkdays,althoughhisrealprofitswerebuiltontheslavetrade.

Masouda,stillhere

Inhershut-awayroomthathadoncebeenathreshingfloor,MasoudarealisedthatherdaughterShannahadgoneawaywithherhusband,Sanjar.Sheknewshewouldnotseeherdaughteragain,andthatnow,herfoodandhygienewerehostagetothecharityoftheneighbourwomen.Daybydayhervoicegrewfainterassherepeated,Iamhere...over

here.IamMasouda.Herframewasmorebentthanever.InoddmomentsneighboursaskedthemselvesifMasoudawouldbeburiedinhermisshapenpostureorwhether,afterdeath,herspinewouldregainitsstraightness.Memoriesofthedistantpast,ascloudyastheywere,begantofill

Masouda’sheadasthedaysshewaslivingthroughandthosejustbeforegrewevermoreabsent.Shebegantoseemomentsintimethat,yearsago,shehadnotbelievedherheadwouldeverbecapableoffacing.Shesawathickdarkdawnandherselfgoingtogatherwood.Sheheard

arustlingintheroomofMerchantSulayman.Shecouldnotcontrolhernaturalcuriosity.Shepressedherselftothewallandpeeredintothebackwindow.Heandhiswifehadbeensleepinginseparateroomssincethebirthof

hissonAbdallahthreeweeksbefore,sohewasalonewhenhissisterrappedonthedoorandimmediately,withouthearingaresponse,openeditandcamein.Heturnedinhisbed.Everythingallright?heasked,startled.Shestaredathim.Yourwife,shesaid.Hegotoutofbed,tookhisdishdashafromtheironhookandstruggled

intoit.Hefacedhissister.Whataboutmywife?What’swrong?You’retheonewhosaidtome,Getmarried,stopdoingyourbusinesswiththeslavewomen.SoImarriedthiswoman.Thenyoucarpedatme,Why

haven’tyouhadababyyet?Andshe’shadthisboy.Whatdoyouwantnow?Hewassittingontheedgeofthebed.Shestoodoverhim.Hervoice,

alwayslow,wasquietnow,butheheardher.Isawher,shesaid.HerandSaleem,ShaykhSaid’sslave.Atthebasilbush.MerchantSulaymanbegantoshiver.Shefinishedwhatshehadtosay

withoutanychangeinthetoneofhervoice:Nevermind,leaveitalltome.Andshewentout.Thatmorning,MerchantSulaymanhadtotraveltoSalalahforsome

business.Whenhereturnedthreemonthslater,hiswifehaddied,leavingtinyAbdallahinthecareofhispaternalaunt.Saleem,ShaykhSaid’sslave,hadvanished.Masoudathoughtshehadobliteratedthismurkydawnscenefromher

mind.

Abdallah

IamnotsittinginthisseatsuspendedbetweenheavenandearthwaitingtoarriveinFrankfurtanymomentnow.IaminZarifa’slapintheeastcourtyardoftheBigHouse,myeyesopentothefullmoonhighinthesky,Zarifaisstrokingmyhairandtellingmeastory.EverydaywhenMamaGoatleftthehouse,shewarnedheroldest

children,ZaydandRabab,saying,Ifanyoneknocks,donotopenthedoor.ItcouldbeMrWolfandhewouldeatyouup.Ifit’smeatthedoor,Iwillsay,YooRabab,yooZayd,openthedoor!Onyourmama’sbackthere’sgrasstoeat,andgoodgoodmilkineachteat!Whenyouhearmesaythat,youcanopenthedoor.Sothechildrenobeyedher.ButonedayMrWolfheardMamaGoatremindingherchildrenwhattodo.Aftershe’dgone,hebeganrappingonthedoor,andsaying,YooRabab,yooZayd,openthedoor!Onyourmama’sbackthere’sgrasstoeat,andgoodgoodmilkineachteat!He’dchangedhisvoiceandhefooledthechildren.TheyopenedthedoorandMrWolfatethemup.WhenMamaGoatcamehomeshebeganknockingatthedoor.She

knockedandknocked,butinvain,assherepeatedherwords.YooRabab,yooZayd...Whenshe’dgottennoanswershebuttedthedooropenwithherhornsandwentinside.Butshedidn’tfindZaydorRabab.MamaGoatwentoutsideataruntosearchforherlittleones.She

passedaspider,shepassedalamb.Sheaskedeveryoneshepassed,Didyouseemychildren?Buttheyallsaid,No,theyhadn’tseenthem.Untilshepassedadove.Thewolfcamebyhere,saidthedove.Andhisstomachwasverybig.Hemusthaveeatenyourchildren.Quick,goafterhim,youwillfindhimasleepundertherocks.First,MamaGoathurriedtotheblacksmith.Sheaskedhimtosharpenherhornsuntiltheywereknifeblades.Shefoundthewolfasleep.Shedroveherhornsintohimand

slicedhistummywideopen.Herchildrencameout,andshesaid,Come,come!AndMamaandbabiesallwenthome.

London

Theminutesheputsdownthephone,Londonwilljumpoutofbed,scatteringherteddybears–arose-colouredstreakhereandaredonethere.Pickingupherphoneagain,shewillcallherfriendHanan.ShehastotellhereverythingAhmadhassaid,asshepacesroundandroundherroom.Bismillahial-rahmanal-rahim,girl!Doyouknowwhattimeitis?Listen,Hanan,thenewpoemhe’sgoingtoreciteintheOmanPoetry

Festival,whichiscomingup–itisdedicatedtome!Sowhat?HananrepliesinEnglish.Sowhat?Don’tyousee?Iamhisinspiration,hisangel,hismuse!I’m

thebeautifuldemonofhispoetry,astheArabpoetsallusedtosay.Well,congratulationstoyou,mydear.CanIgobacktosleepnow,

seeingasIdon’treallyunderstandpoetryatall,andIonlybelieveinwell-testedscientificanalysesthatgiveguaranteedresults?Onthedaytheyconcludedtheirbetrothalvowsandthemarriage

contractwassigned,theminutetheysaidgoodbyeandheleftherfather’shome,itwasalmosttimeforthedawnprayers.Shecalledherfriend.Hanan!Iamthemostblissfulgirlinthewholewideworld!Athousandcongratulations,love,youcertainlydeserveit.Soisyour

littledove-lovetimetogetherdone?He’sjustleft.Didhekissyou?No,Hanan!Hetoldmeourmarriageisavictoryoverthedisgusting

hideboundclassstructureofsociety,andacrowningoftruelove.Sheheardalaugh.Youmean,hegaveyoualectureinsteadofmaking

themostofhisopportunity?Imean,thiswasthecontract,right?Couldn’theatleastkissyou?

Hanaaan,stopit.Hanan’sfranknessnolongersmarted;Londonwastoousedtoit.

Anyway,Hanan’spositiononallofthishadbeenclearfromthestart.Ahmad?Youmean,theguywhocallshimselfapoet?Whoiswithsomeoneneweveryday?Evenhispoetryistooheavyforanyonetobear.Whywouldyouwanthim?Evenhisappearance...like,hedoesn’tevenknowwhattodo,sometimesheletshisbeardgoandothertimesheshavesandeitherwayhelookswrong.Onedayyouseehiminadishdasha,thenextinjeans.MondayhishairislongandTuesdayhisskullisshaved.He’llbeactinglikethemostreligiousofthereligious,andthenthenexttimeyouseehim,he’scockingaroundlikehe’sthelatestthing.AhmadhadputalotofeffortintosecuringLondon.Youarethegirlof

mydreams,hewouldsay.Hepursuedherwithemailsandphonecallsandreallettersonpaper,withpoemsandsongsandphotos.Shewashooked.Whenhermotherdiscoveredthebusiness,shelockedLondonupin

herroomandsmashedherphone.ThemoreLondonresisted,themorestubbornhermotherbecame,asifshewantedtoseehowfarherdaughterwouldgo.Howhardwouldsheholdontothisdreamofhers?OritwaslikeMayyawaspunishingherself,andnotherdaughteratall,notthewomaninlove.London’sfatherwasbewilderedandtorn.Whenhefinallycrackedthe

whip,decreeingshecouldhavethismarriage,hermothersimplywithdrew.Onthedaythecontractwassigned,afteralloftheguestshadgone,

Ahmadkissedherhands.Doyouknowwhatitisaboutyouthatattractedme,London?Thatyou’reagirlwhoisn’teasy.Andwhenyoudiddecidetolovemeback,youlovedsincerely,andyoudefendedyourloveinthefaceofallthisbackwardnessanduglinessthatsurroundsusoneveryside.Eversinceshehadmethimshehadheardhimrepeatthesetwowords.

Backwardness.Ugliness.Sometimesheadded‘abhorrentclassism’.When

shesawhimlaughingwiththewomanwhoheadedthestudents’literarycollective,asheclaspedbothofherhands,hedidshowabitofembarrassment.Theywentouttohercar.Hedefendedhimselfbutitwasmorelikeanattack,eventhoughshehadn’tstartedit.Listentome,London.Yes,youaremyfiancée.Mybeloved.Butdon’tstarthemmingmeinwithyourjealousyandegotismandpossessivenessandreaction,okay?Thisselfishnessisugly,andjealousyisbackward,andpossessivenessisoneoftheprimitivepracticesfromthetimesofhatefulclassism.Iamapoet.Amanofletters.Mysoulisfree,completelyfree,likeadoveinthesky.Ah,yes,mywordsremindmeofMahmoudDarwish’spoem–thedoveflies,thedovelands...Anythingthattiesmedownthrottlesme.Stiflesmycreativity.Killsmyrushofpoeticlanguage.Iwantawomanwhounderstandsme.AwomanwhoknowsperfectlywellthatIamthewindandsheisthetree.Shesendsherrootsintotheground,Icircleoverheadinthesky.Londondidn’tsayanything,notthen.Shetuggedherlabcoattightly

aroundher,atethefalafelsandwichhehadboughtherfromCaféNasir,andrealisedthathe’dgivenheraclearviewofhischin,whichshedidn’tusuallyseelikethisbecausehedidn’tusuallycarryhisfacetippedsohigh.Thistime,tryingtostarehimintheeyeallshecouldseewashischin,bobbingupanddownwithhiswordsandthesandwichhewaseating.Someweekslatershediscoveredaphotographofthepresidentofthe

literarycollectiveinhiswallet.Shewassoangrythatshetoreittoshredsimmediately.Ahmadshoutedather.Yousillywoman,thisphotoisjustsomeofthematerialforthebookletwe’redoingforthepoetryevent.Whatastupidthingtodo.Backward,andugly!Theystoppedspeaking.Londonneededsomeonetotalkto.Butshedidn’twanttoexpose

herselftoHanan’sirritationandsarcasm.SheknewHanan’sopinionwellenough.Iwarnedyou,Hananwouldsnapather.Everynewpoemisdedicatedtoanewgirl.Whydidyouallowhimtoinsultyoulikethat?Hanandidn’tunderstand.Londonwascertainhelovedher,andthathe

wastellingherthetruth.Whatbusinessdidshehavewithhispreviouslife?Itdidn’tconcernherabit.Theimportantthingwastheirfuturetogether,andshedidn’twanttofail.Shewasafraidoffailure,itterrifiedher.Itwasthreeo’clockinthemorningandshecalledhim.Thenextdaytheywentinhiscarwiththedarkenedwindowsforalong

driveontheshore.Herejectedhersuggestionthattheygetoutandwalk,becauseitwassohot.Theyateicecreamandtalkedaboutthefuture.AssoonasIfinishmyinternyearI’llopenaprivateclinic,andthenafteryougraduateyoucanjoinit.Yourfatherwillhelpusstartit.OnceI’vegotmorefamousformypoetry,I’llleavethewholethingtoyousoIcanfreemyselfuptofollowmytalent.You’llbethewifeofthegreatestpoetofOman!Forthatmatter,themostcelebratedpoetinthewholeArabworld.Inthedarknessofthecar,heembracedher.London’sdreamwassomewhatdifferent.Afterfinishingherintern

yearshewouldworkinthegovernment’shospitalslongenoughtogetexperience.ThenshewouldtraveltoCanadaforafurtherdegreeinpaediatricmedicine.Afterthatshemightconsidertheclinicidea.Butshecouldn’tdiscussanyofthis.Thesmellofhisshampoofilledhernoseandshegaveintohishugs.Sheimaginedwhattheirchildrenwouldlooklikeandsheputherarmsaroundhim.Londonwasn’tblind.Shedidseeallthesigns,butshewouldn’tlethermindacceptthem.Lookhere,Hanansaid.Thisromancething.Withallduerespectfor

lovewhereveritis,tolovers,songs,NizarQabbani’spoetry,flowers,themoon,nightsofconversation,stars,andeverypoetwhohaseverexisted–thisisn’tbigonrationality.Nolistening,nolooking,nothinkingorrealplanning.Aguyyousawafewtimesinlecturehallsandatpoetryeveningsandyoutalkedtohiminthehallforafewminutesandthenonthephoneafewnights.YousplitasandwichinthehospitalcafeteriaonyourbreakandyoudrankaPepsitogetherinthemedcollegeparkinglot.Andthenyousay,I’mcrazyabouthim?Ican’tlivewithouthim?Heismyairandwater,mysunandmoon?What’sthisnonsense?Anditturnsouthisgrandfatherwasashepherdforyourgrandmother’sfatherfiftyyearsagoandyourgrandmotherswearsshe’llslityourthroatifyoumarryhim?

Theyhityouandbreakyourphoneandforbidyougoingtoclassesforseveraldays,andwhy?Forsomeguywhoisnodifferentthanthousandsofothermeninthisworld?He’snotevenastallasyouare.Andyousaytome‘love’andpatienceandsacrificeandifIdon’tmarryhimIwillkillmyself?IfIcan’ttalktohimIcan’tbreatheandifIdon’tseehimIcan’tlive?Whatlove,London?Didyou,like,walkintohimdeliberatelysoyoucouldfallinlove,inthefirstplace?You’realwayssayingtome,it’sthephonecalls,theemails...well,thisisexactlyyourmistake,London.Whenyouarenottrulywithsomeone,andyouonlyhearhisvoice,andthenallhetalksaboutishimself,youformtheimagethatyou’realreadyhopingfor.Youdon’texactlygetatruepicture.See,youdon’tknowhimatall.Poetryanddreamyphoneconversationswasalam!That’sallyou’vegot!Andthen–eitherImarryhimorIkillmyself?AndI’msogreatbecauseI’mrejectingthehatefulclasssystem?Youdon’tneedhisslogansinordertotrustyourownprinciples,London.Whathashedoneforyoursakeanyway?Heletsyourmothertortureyouandyourgrandmotherthreatenyou,andallhedoesisjustsittherewatching,waitingtoseewhattheoutcomewillbe.Thisisaman?Thisguy?AsfarasI’mconcernedwhatmarriageisdoesn’thavealottodowithlove.Loveisdreams,marriageisforreal:life,responsibility,child-ren.Noillusions.Therightpersonistheonewhorespectsandhonoursyou,andyoufeeltotallycomfortablewith,theonewhowillbeafatheryoucanbeproudof,foryourchildren’ssake.Notsomeonewithastupidinferioritycomplexwhomakesyoufeeljealous.Love,hesaid.Hah!IswearIthoughtyouhadsomebrains,London.Ithoughtyourmindwasongraduating,andonCanada,yourspecialization–untilallofthishappened.Whatareyougoingtodonow,ifyourmotherkeepsonslappingyou,iftheydon’tmarryyoutohim?Iwillkillmyself.Hananleft.ShewasassignedtoaschoolinDhofar.Refusingwasoutof

thequestion.Ifsheturnedthisjobdownshe’dloseherchances,probablyforever.WherewouldshefindafixerwhocouldgetherappointedinMuscatsothatshecouldstaywithherfamily?Shedidn’tknowanyone

withanyinfluence,andifshesaidnoandthejobflewoutofherhandsallthedreamsofherfamilywouldgoupinsmoke–herfather,retirednow,hermother,whowasill,herbrotherwhohadgottenengagedsevenyearsbeforebutonhismiserablesalaryhadstillnotbeenabletopaythedowry.Shepackedhercasesandtravelledsouth,dreamingofherfirstsalaryandherbrother’swedding.Londonbeganphoninghereveryotherday,intears.Hanan,Ihatethewordsfreedomandcultureandclassism.I’vestarted

doubtingmyselfcompletely.Canyouimagine,hesearchesmyphoneeverytimewemeet,hegoesthroughallthenumbersonittomakesurethereisnonewonethathedoesn’tknow.Hanansighed.Idon’tknowwhattosaytoyou,love.Thismandoesn’t

deserveyou.Idon’tunderstandanythinganymore.It’sasifI’mlivinginsidea

tornado.SuddenlyhestartednoticinghowdarkandthinIam,asifheneversawmebefore.Iswearthatguyhasnoshame.Whydon’tyoustanduptohim?Talkto

himaboutallofthis.I’vetried,andeverytimeIstart,hesaystome,Don’tthinkyouare

betterthanme.I’mthemanhere,andyourfamilyandalltherealestateyourfatherownsandhisbusinessdon’tconcernmeabit.Eventhough,Hanan,Ineversaidanythingaboutmyfamilytohim.Notevenonce,notatall.AllahAllah!Thismanissick,sweetheart.Giveitsomethoughtbefore

yougetanydeeperintoit...you’restilljustinthecontractperiod,meaning,it’sjustanengagement,really.Youwantustobreakup,Hanan?Ahmadismydarling,thedreamof

mylife.Wehavetosolveourproblems,Idon’twantmyfirstlovetofail.Idon’twantthewayI’veresistedmyfamilytogoinvain.Iwanttoproveoursuccesstotheworld,tomymotherandfatherandgrandmotherandourclassmates,thewholeworld.Idon’twanttobeadivorcedwoman.Butherfirstlovedidfail.Ithadfailedlongbeforeshecouldadmitit,

andafteralotofinsultsandpains.Finallyshedemandedanannulment

andrefusedtoseehim.HestoodathercardoorintheCollegeparkinglotandbeggedhertospeaktohim.Heblockedthecardoorwithhisbodytopreventherfromgettingin.London,myLondon,don’tleaveme...youaremine.Youarethegirlofmydreams.IsweartoGodIamsorry.Ididn’tmeantohityou.Iwasjustangry,IsweartoGod,I’msosorry,forgiveme.Ikissyourfeet.Ididn’tmeanwhatIsaid.Idon’twanttoloseyou,andanyway,youaremyproperty,myLondon.Youaremyvictoryandmyinspiration.Youaremine.Youwouldleavemeandbelongtosomeoneelse?wAllahiitwon’thappen,youbelongtome.Youaremygirl,mywife.Ikissyourhands,don’tleaveme.We’llgetmarried,thedate’sbeensetandwe’llgoonhoneymoontoEurope.We’llopentheclinictogether.Haveyouforgottenourdreams,London?You’remine,myLondon,mymuse.Mylove,mine.Youbelongtome.LondonlefttheparkinglotandwentbackintotheCollege.Itwasn’t

enoughtokeeponsayingtoherself,Iamnotyourpossession,andIdonotbelongtoanyone.Itwasn’tenough,anyofthis,tohealher.Sheknewyoucouldn’ttreatawoundjustbycleansingitwithanantisepticorpretendingitwasonlyascratch.Thedesperatelonginginhisfaceandvoiceasthey’dbeenbeforewasa

weaponherheartwavedinherface.Ihateyou,Ihateyourvoice,Ihatethelookofyou.Shetoreupallthepicturesofhimshecouldfind.Butshecouldn’tfeelthekindofhatredthatmightpullheroutofthis.Shejustfeltthesharpest,mostviolentbitternessandpain.

Khawla

AfterNasirhadtrulysettleddowninOman,andonceKhawla’stwolastchildrenhadarrived,andnowthatNasirwashardlyeverleavingthehouseexceptwhenhehadtogotowork,shedecided.Shewantedadivorce.Everyonethoughtshehadgoneinsane.Orperhapsshewasconcealing

someterriblesetofsecretsthathadpushedhertothiscrazydecision.ButKhawlawasn’thidinganything.Itwasjustthatshecouldn’tbearthepast.Everythingwascalmand

well-orderednow.Fayiz,theyoungestofherfivechildren,wasinhighschool.Monawasengagedtoarespectableengineer,andtheotherswerealldoingwell.Everythinginherlifewassocalm,infact,thatitwaslikeexistinginastillandsoundlesslandscape.Allofit:hermarriedlife,hermotherhood,herfriendships.Shewasatpeace,soherheartstoppedforgiving.Shecouldn’tbearthe

pastanylonger.Allofitseemednowtohavegrowntoanenormoussizeinsideher,anditchokedher.Everynight,theportraitoftheCanadiangirlonthekeyringgotbigger,andwenttosleeponKhawla’spillow.Everyday,allofthosehoursshehadspentaloneinmaternitywardsmarchedoutinforcetopounceonher.Everyday,shecouldseetheclothesherchildrenneverworebecausetheirfatherdidn’tevenknowhowoldtheywere.Everyday,shesawtheyearsthathadpassedwithherbedcold,herbeautywrecked,theneighbourstakingherchildrentothehospitaliftheyfellill,hersistersloaninghermoneywhensheneededit,hermotherscoldingher,andneighbours’eyesfullofpity.Thepastcamebackeverysingleday,awarrior’slancethatstabbedherthrough.Oh,Khawla!Thatwildforestinsideofyou,fullofroughunderbrush.Haditbeenasleepalltheseyears,andwasityouwhocloseditseyes?Who

coveredoveritspoisonedplants?Youcanseeitnow,though,asitripsthroughtheoldsheetswithwhichyoutriedtocoveritandchokeoffallthosethorns.Whatdoesitwant?Youdon’tknow,ofcourse.Howwouldyouknow?Asyoutakeasteponthestaircasethatleadsdownintoit,thestepbeforeitsplintersandthewaybackisgone.Thewhitesheetsthatcovereditaregone.WhatshesawnowwasnotNasir’ssweetness,thegentlenesshecould

show,thewayhedidlosehimselfservingherandthechildren.Shecouldn’tseehisloyalty,hisperfectrespect.Shesawthebirthingrooms,emptyexceptforhermoaningandthenewborn.Shesawthelongmorningsofpregnancy,asshelaytheresickandcold.Sheheardtheringingofhistelephoneaftermidnight.Sheheardhiswhisperingsandhissighsintothephone,sheheardthescreechofairplanesliftingofftherunway,headingforCanada,yearafteryearforanentiredecade,neverstopping.Sheheardthechildren’sscreams,theclattertheymade,andshefeltthecoldnessofherbedcreepingintoherbody.Allofit,Khawlacarriedonherback,andtheloadgrewheaviereveryday,andherbackbegantobreak.Tryingeverypossibleargument,hebeggedhertotakebackher

decision,butherearswerestoppedupnow.Shenolongerevenheardhisvoice.Shehadn’theardhisvoiceforalongtime,infact.Hepleadedwithher.Wordsthatundoubtedlywouldhaveoncemeltedherricochetedagainsthereardrumslikerustybitsofiron.Thefaultwasn’tinthewordsbutintheyears.Inallthosewinternightsandsummerdays.Theyearsdraggedallofthosewordsbehindthemandwhenthewordstriedtotakerootonherburdenedback,thestonygroundtherethrewthemoff.Orsheatethemtothebone,thewaysomecreaturesconsumetheiryoung.Theyearswerelivecreatures.Khawladidnotforgetanythingshehadgonethrough,daybyday,hourbyhour,minutebyminute,everythinginsidehersappingherspirit.Everydayplungedanotherbladeintothedeepearthinsideofher,turningitovermercilessly,sowingit.Atthelowestpoint,atKhawla’sbedrock,therewasnofreshsoilfitforplanting.Therewerewordsshewantedtosaytohim.Anythingatall,thatwould

havebeenenoughforme,anythingthatwouldhavewateredthefieldsofmyheartandmadethemflower.Anythingtofillthosebasketsheldouttoyou.Onlytoyou.Anything.Aletter.Justasinglepagewithonesingleword,inyourhandwriting.Theringofatelephoneaftermidnight,asnatcheddreaminwhichyoudidn’tturnyourback,asmallstep,asingleslowturntofaceme.Anything.Evenanangryscolding!Asighofexasperation.Acheapgift.Anythingwouldhavebeenalot.Butthatanythingnevercame.Nothing,ever.Andnow,everythingisnotenough.Everythingisalotlessthanasinglebud,asingleleafunfoldinginafieldwhippedbywinter.Butshedidn’tsayanyofit.Howtosayit,toamanwhohadspentthe

lasttenyearsworkinghimselfhardtoservehishomeandchildren,howcouldheunderstandthattheseedplantedinthosefirsttenyearshadsuddenlyeruptedinherbody,growingthornsthattoreherintoshreds?

Abdallah

WewereontheshoreatSib.MyLexuswasparkedatoneofthenewlamppoststhatvaguelyresembletheBurjal-ArabinDubai.Muhammadwassittingnexttome.Hesaidshewasbeinginsanely

jealous,andpreventinghimfromdoingwhatheloved.Shewasspyingonhim,lookingathisphone.Thecarseemedtoleanintothelamppost.Who?IaskedMuhammad.Whoisshe?Helookedatme,startled.Mywife,hesaid.Mayya.Iheardafaintlaughcomingfromthebackseat.Suppressedand

derisive,itwasalaughIknewverywell.Ibroughtmyarminfromthecarwindowandsaidwithoutturningaround,Don’tlaughatme,Papa.Youaren’tevenhereanymore.YoudiedtheyearMuhammadwasborn.ThelaughonlygrewlouderandinthecarmirrorIsawmyfather’swhitebeardshaking.Salimpassedbythecarwindow,running,followedbytwoyoung

fellows,butolderthanhewas,chasinghiminaPorsche.IturnedtowardMuhammadbutIfoundLondon,crying.Yes,Papa,shesaid.Iamsuccessful,yes.Muhammadwasababyinherlap,shakinghisheadhardinoneofthoseendlessjerkymovementshealwaysmade.ThecarfadedawayandMuhammadandIweresittingonthebeach.Muhammadlookedlikeatotallyordinarystrappingyoungman.Hewaswhistlinghappily,andsuddenlyhesaidtome,Ican’tstanditanymore,Abdallah,herjealousywillkillme.Iturnedtohim.Whoisshe?Whodoyoumean?Mywife,hesaid.Igrabbedthesleeveofhisgreydishdasha.Butyouarestilllittle,andyouaresick,andyoudonothaveawife.Hescreamed.Mywifewillkillme!Shekeepshereyesonmyphone,

shesurroundsme.Hecollapsed,stillshouting.Sheisalwaysbentoverthatdamnedsewingmachine,shestrokesit,butsheneveroncebends

overme.Thesalivabegantodripfromhismouthashishandmadethoserepeatedsharpnervousmovements.Islappedhim,sayingoverandover,Shutup,you’remakingascene,you’rescandalizingus.Myfathersnatchedthewhipfrommyhands.Hethrewitintothesea.

Butyouaredead,Papa,Isaidtohim.Howcanyoucomebacklikethis?Hewentaway,notturningbackonce.Ishoutedafterhim.Takehim

withyou,Papa!TakeMuhammadwithyou.Everythingwentdark.Iheardthesoundofmycarstarting,Iheardit

leaving.IcaughtaglimpseofLondonatthewheel.IscoopedMuhammadintomyarms.Heislikeafish,Muhammadis,Isuddenlythought.Iwalkeddowntothewater.Thewaveswerewellingup,andIwentinuptomychest.WhenIopenedmyarmsMuhammadslippedawaylikeafish.AndIcameoutofthewaterdry.