We would labor together to assuage each other’s hunger, to the hum of the gossip about who would be wedding whom.
Dream 100
This is a trial and this a bench and sitting at it is a single judge and this is the seat of the accused and sitting at it is a group of national leaders and this is the courtroom, where I have sat down longing to get to know the party responsible for what has befallen us. But I grow confused when the dialogue between the judge and the leaders is conducted in a language I have never before heard, until the magistrate adjusts himself in his seat as he prepares to announce the verdict in the Arabic tongue. I lean forward to hear, but then the judge points at me—to pronounce a sentence of death upon me. I cry out in alarm that I’m not part of this proceeding and that I’d come of my own free will simply to watch and see—but no one even notices my scream.
Dream 101
We prettied up the house to welcome back the son—during his time away, he’d become a celebrity. We spent the evening on our balcony with its beautiful view and its cleansing breeze, as the prodigal one entertained us with poetry and songs well into the night.
But in the morning we found the balcony’s entrance blocked by a monstrous wardrobe. I felt ashamed—nor did our son hide his dismay when it dawned on him that folks from the heart of his family detested his presence, despising his delightful work.
Dream 102
At length I went down to the toilet on the lower floor of the old house. Soon, however, I became annoyed with its dampness and discomfort, and went out searching all over again until I wound up on the upper floor. This was better than all the other areas, but then it rained with unusual intensity. The water ran down from the roof and forced us to heap up the furniture and to cover it completely, following which we fled the flat for the stairwell. When it dawned on the new resident of the lower level that we were there, he came out to us—inviting us with extreme insistence to go inside where it was warm, safe, and dry.
Dream 103
What’s happening in our house? All the chairs are lined up with their feet nailed down and the ceilings are stripped of their lamps and the walls of their pictures and the floors of their carpets—so what’s going on in our house?
They say it’s all to protect our home against the many burglaries of apartments. But I reply without pause that a break-in would be dearer to my heart than ugliness and chaos.
Dream 104
I saw myself in Abbasiya wandering in the vastness of my memories, recalling in particular the late Lady Eye. So I contacted her by telephone, inviting her to meet me by the fountain, and there I welcomed her with a passionate heart.
I suggested that we spend the evening together in Fishawi Café, as in our happiest days. But when we reached the familiar place, the deceased blind bookseller came over to us and greeted us warmly—though he scolded the dearly departed Eye for her long absence.
She told him what had kept her away was Death. But he rejected that excuse—for Death, he said, can never come between lovers.
Dream 105
All the men in our quarter get their grooming done in Uncle Abduh’s salon—pulled in by the irresistible woman who sits behind the counter. We all want to better ourselves financially, so we have our beards trimmed there every morning in the realm of beauty.
One day as I walked down a street that was shining clean and lovely, the belle of Uncle Abduh’s shop drew close to me. I had to turn and stare at her. Suddenly she stuck out her tongue at me—then, just as quickly, her face changed into a thick block of wood.
Fleeing from her as fast as I could, a great laugh caught up with me. Peering in the direction from which it came, I saw the gorgeous creature dancing in the arms of her boss, both in the grip of merriment and glee.
Dream 106
The ministry shook with the news that a coup d’etat had taken place early that morning: the employees all gathered before the television to catch the first official bulletin. One of the older men said that he’d heard the same announcement early in his youth.
Meanwhile, I discovered that the coup’s leader was one of my closest friends. After broadcasting the fact excitedly, I relaxed with joy, convinced that life would now be laughing with me.
But my aged colleague recalled that the world had laughed for him, once, too—when he’d found himself condemned without a trial.
Dream 107
What a peculiar prayer for the dead!
Indeed, here lay a coffin upon which was written, “This is so-and-so’s funeral, carried out according to his wishes.” Furthermore, it said, “He was a worthy fellow, renowned for his streak of bad luck, as hardly a single reader knew his many writings.”
So many people came to take part or just to look on, that when the procession reached the cemetery, it was the largest demonstration ever seen on such an occasion.
By the time that night fell, the deceased’s name lived on everyone’s lips.
Dream 108
I left the beautiful train, my heart filled with a brilliant light—but around me I found a blighted landscape. Where was the garden, unmatched in any country?
I spotted a handsome man approaching: as he drew near, I recognized the one who had married my sweetheart years before. He apologized that the wars had delayed his coming. He had, he said, finally made up his mind to return this week—and that in exactly one month life would come back to his most beautiful friend in all existence.
Though I didn’t expect to, I believed him. And I hoped one day my darling and I would dwell in the Garden together, the way we’d grown up with each other in our ancient quarter.
Dream 109
This was my pupil to whom I taught music and singing, and who quickly became a wealthy star. Meanwhile, I fell into obscurity, utterly forgotten in my protégé’s shadow—so I left my beautiful and arduous profession, to take up training in the field of archaeology.
But my student gave up learning and knowledge altogether. Addicted to drugs, he let his voice go to waste. One evening we met at a party by chance: he didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him.
Many there began to wonder how we had both fallen so far—and why.
Dream 110
At the end of an exhausting errand, I came to a locked gate. Gathering all my remaining strength, I shook it till it began to open.
Beyond it I could see a lake, from which missiles were being launched into space. As each one exploded in the air, it lit up the face of a former lover—the heavens were filled with those I adored.
Yet still I wait for the glowing face of the one who taught me love, who made me long to live forever.
Dream 111
The gloom approached relentlessly, spreading toward us without pause. “They mean to kill us!” my friend said in warning—and I told him I could finally see a way out.
I couldn’t deny that the path would be hard. “But I have nothing better to offer,” I said, “so follow me if you wish.”
My friend thought for a long while, then fell in behind me—for, “All lives,” he declared, “are in the hands of God alone!”
Dream 112
What a horrendous uproar! There are voices clashing and the sound of scurrying footsteps, then other footsteps running away; a scream here and a shout there, plus bullets being fired, and a woman wailing for help from God.
I was dazed by the resemblance between her voice and that of my dearly departed mother. Quickly I dashed onto the roof where my brothers and sisters were gathered, my elder brother discussing the call for help and our mother.
Absolutely sure that I was right, I told them this was our mother’s voice, that no other’s could be like hers.
Dream 113
At last, the new minister arrived.
I presented myself to him as his parliamentary secretary, but he didn’t understand a word I said. I tried to explain my work to him, but he brushed me off nastily, ordering that I be transferred from my position—and so began my life’s suffering.
Then Fa
te decreed that he and I should be thrust together in an unexpected venue: prison. Once over the shock, I began to remind him of our first encounter and all that came from it—until he himself recalled it, expressing his regret and apologizing for what he’d done to me.
At this, I seized upon our being held in the same place to tell him about the job of parliamentary secretary.
Dream 114
The new housemaid came, accompanied by some of her relatives. It’s almost as though they wanted to inspect the place, to be sure it was suitable for their lovely daughter.
Yet she did not stay with us more than half a day—and left anger and anxiety behind her. Then one evening I spied her slinking out of a neighbor’s flat, in a frankly licentious state.
Suddenly, the hidden truth struck me, and I saw what they were looking for when they visited our house.
Dream 115
A dispute over repairs to our house arose between the lady who lives in the lower floor and the landlady, who dwells above.
As their voices rang out through the tiny alley, doors and windows opened; some took the side of the building’s owner, while others rooted for the woman downstairs.
The argument kept raging until insults flew—the red anger warning that bloodshed would follow.
Dream 116
I went to congratulate an old friend on his appointment as minister, but contrary to my expectation, I was met with absolute apathy as I awaited the rendezvous in vain. It began to dawn on me that some people had lied about me, and my old friend’s affection had rotted as a result. Finally, I made to leave—blind to all before me—but ran into a colleague on my way out.
He had not lost his feeling for me, calling God’s curse down on the wagging tongues who had slandered me. So I asked him, “Why didn’t the minister come to meet me, simply to inquire into the truth of the matter?”
“A long time has passed,” he replied, “and the legal period to hear more witnesses has expired.”
Dream 117
I was sitting in the café, when, without seeking my leave, our neighborhood’s chief bully sat down next to me.
As I welcomed him with distaste, he announced that he had chosen me to marry his daughter, a divorcée. My limbs trembling, I replied that I was going to wed my paternal uncle’s daughter that weekend.
He answered with confident simplicity, “You’re going to marry my daughter, and your uncle’s daughter’s going to marry me.”
Dream 118
I was in Ramle Station, always bustling with people, when at one end I caught sight of the man whose slogans the masses love to repeat, wooing a stunning woman.
“If you’re doing something scandalous,” I whispered in his ear, “then you should be discreet.”
But he answered me bluntly, “Is there anything more discreet than this?”
Dream 119
I arrived at the station at a critical moment, squeezing into the queue that stretched from the ticket window.
We remained stuck between the platform and the window until the last whistle sounded, warning us to get aboard. But I was still far down the line.
And that is how I missed the train.
Dream 120
We sailed to the kingdom of whose splendors the poets sing. There we joined our chosen guide, who took us from vista to vista, from mountains to sea, from museum to mausoleum.
Finally, the guide said, “The only place left on our tour is the Crystal Garden”—and he urged us to rest and reflect for a bit, so we would not be too dazzled by the sight. But we asked him, “Is there anything more stunning than what we’ve already seen?”
He just smiled and resumed walking—and we followed right behind.
Dream 121
I was strolling down the corniche in Alexandria toward the building where I would see the elegant lady on a balcony with her husband and young children. As I neared my destination, everything began to fade and dissolve smoothly and magically before me, until I found myself on Abbasiya Street.
I was still advancing toward the new block of flats from whose window the unforgettably enticing woman gazed down at me. The window was empty, so I resolved to wait at the tram station as usual.
But I found no sign of the station at all—nor a trace of the rails the whole length of the street.
Dream 122
The night was calm as we settled into a room, the darkness falling gently over our furtive pleasure and intimate joy. Abruptly, a clamor came toward us from the street outside.
Quickly I ran over to peek through the window—and saw a crowd of people surrounding a familiar-looking man. They rained a hail of curses and harsh rebuke upon him, while he offered no resistance. They kept doing this until the words, I felt, were tearing my own body apart.
Dream 123
I’m heading from Opera Square to the Horreya Café. When I get there I’m surprised to find it empty. Instead of being jammed with patrons as usual, there is only one man engrossed in reading some papers spread out before him.
Suddenly I realize this is my mentor, Shaykh Mustafa Abd al-Raziq. I rush over to him ecstatically, expecting to share our old intimacy, but he turns toward me scowling—and my heart sinks as rapidly as it just had risen.
Pointing toward the papers, the shaykh says he’s sorry to have seen my name listed among the witnesses against him.
I have no idea what to say, or how to get away.
Dream 124
Many times we gathered in a spot between the fields and the main road, until once my friend told me that it wasn’t always a truly safe place to meet.
From that moment I became disturbed, until one morning I awoke to a mighty commotion of shouts outside.
Below my window I beheld a limitless crowd, in which nothing stood out but its boundless rage.
Dream 125
Arriving at my flat, I found it swaying from side to side, none of its furniture in its usual place. Little boys and girls whom I’d never seen before were playing all around, not even aware that I was there.
With heart pounding, I stepped onto the balcony overlooking the garden nearby, where a hugely spreading tree’s branches were filled with chirping birds. Their flitting around and singing made me forget about everything but the sound of their choir.
Dream 126
We went to congratulate the new minister: we were all old friends, so he greeted us warmly. We found other dear ones there as well—we all reminisced about our childhood together.
The next morning, the radio broadcast the proclamation that the Army had begun to move. But when we reached the Secretariat, we were warned not to say too much in welcoming the news, until we could see what it really would bring.
Dream 127
In this villa’s garden we spent merry evenings together in complete freedom. But then the villa’s owner suddenly changed and arbitrarily imposed his will on everything: he dictated the place where we sat, the topic of conversation, and the food and drink, as well.
We took it as a joke, but he persisted, and we became alarmed—though we concealed our feelings from him out of deference for his position. Yet one of us could not hide his emotions forever. One night his suppressed rage exploded; he began screaming and pulled out a pistol, pointing it toward us with a trembling hand.
We split up in terror as he ran through the garden, chasing us with insults and curses.
Dream 128
An antique shop shining with brightness and cheer. A miraculously pretty girl sat inside, serving the patrons. Walking around it for a while, I chanced upon a restaurant.
I ate a sandwich and smoked a cigarette, before going back for another glimpse of the adolescent beauty. But instead of her, I found in her place a creaking old crone. My breast quivered as my eyes searched in vain for the gorgeous one for whom I’d come.
I kept staring in confusion at the mirror over her head. There I beheld an old man leaning on a heavy cane, whose legs, and heart, and memory, had faltered.
Dream 129
&nbs
p; I was still just waking up, determined to retain my patience, resolve, and persistence until I reached a peak—when I decided to take a break.
Then a young man appeared who was struggling to go up. My heart went out to him and I offered him my hand.
But he shoved me aside so forcefully I was powerless to resist—and I helplessly rolled away.