Khan Al-Khalili

15

The next morning he woke up exhausted. After all, joy is just like grief — an ancient foe of slumber. He was feeling so happy and full of joy that he simply brushed his tiredness aside. When in the past twenty years had he ever experienced such a joyous morning? He left the house happy and smiling, his heart beating like someone in the prime of youth. Now at last he had become a member of the particular group he had always regarded with envy and hatred: lover and loved. That morning his emotions were pure, completely unclogged by feelings of hatred and rancor. Even if it were just for a short while, he could have some respite from the specters of failure that swooped like bats over his dark memories. He felt no need to argue, confront, or get angry with any of the other employees at work. Instead, a dancing wave of contentment washed away the putrid, stagnant slime that lurked deep inside him.

When he went home at lunchtime he found a letter waiting for him. As soon as he took a look at the envelope, he recognized the handwriting — small, neat letters very similar to his own. He opened the letter with a smile and read its contents to the end.

“Rushdi is coming home on the morning of the day before Eid al-Fitr.”

Even though his parents had known ahead of time that his younger brother would be spending the Eid in Cairo, they were still thrilled by the news. However, the letter went on to convey some even happier news for the two parents.

“Rushdi goes on to say that an order’s been issued transferring him from Asyut to the headquarters in Cairo. He’s to get his new post there immediately after the Eid holiday.”

The parents were utterly delighted.

“We’ll have two festivals to celebrate,” Sitt Dawlat proclaimed. “I’ve missed him so much. I wonder how he’s managed to spend the entire year on his own in Asyut.”

“You’d better hope and pray,” Ahmad replied with a smile, “that he’s adopted a different lifestyle from the one he was following in Cairo before he left!”

Ahmad went to his room, took off his clothes, and lay down on the bed as usual to take a nap before evening — or rather, until his “love appointment” (as he now had to term it after such a notable day). The letter he had received from his brother temporarily distracted him from thoughts of sleep and the joyous feelings he was enjoying. Instead his mind was filled with memories of his younger brother.

It was rare for anyone to provoke such contradictory feelings as did Rushdi Akif in his elder brother’s mind, ranging from anger to love. Ahmad had felt a sense of real grievance when the need to stand surety for his younger brother had meant that he, Ahmad, would have to sacrifice his own future and the application of his genius! Then again, he had been annoyed when his brother had squandered his young adulthood by indulging in all kinds of diversions and pleasures and had refused to listen to reason. On the other hand, he loved his brother more than anything on earth, because the young man had shown his love for him in ways that far surpassed the love and respect he showed to his parents. He always remembered the way Ahmad had taken care of him and served as his benefactor. Rushdi adored his elder brother because the latter had crafted him with his own two hands, nourished him with his spirit, and spent his own money on his younger brother’s upbringing. Ahmad was both elder brother and loving parent. He had enjoyed his younger brother’s childhood, carrying him in his arms, teaching him to talk, and training him to walk. He had watched over him as a boy and directed his education. Later on, the younger brother’s success — after so much toil and trouble — had come as a reward for all the struggles his elder brother had undertaken and a proud achievement for his efforts. He was forever recalling his elder brother’s sacrifices on his behalf. Beyond all that, Rushdi was a lovable person: kind and cheerful, he had inherited from his mother the ability to open other people’s hearts without the slightest effort on his part; both of them — he and his mother — were generously endowed with beauty, sincerity, loyalty, and a fondness for company and conviviality. Unfortunately, those qualities were not accompanied by a similar level of moderation, poise, and commonsense. For him life was to be lived on the edge, at full throttle; everything had to be done to the maximum, and his natural bent pushed him forward without the slightest hint of restraint.

From the outset he had been brash and forward in his approach to life in general; and all this while the person who was supposed to be looking after him — namely his elder brother — was the exact opposite, trammeled by the fact that he was both spoiled and scared. As a result, Ahmad had tended to rely on the younger brother he was helping to bring up — who was reliable along with other people — when it came to doing things for him, buying whatever he needed, and borrowing books for him. The younger brother had thereby gained world experience, along with self-reliance, initiative, and masculinity. His elder brother needed him just as much as he needed his elder mentor. However, while he may have learned about the world and operated within it, he still had no fixed set of principles to protect him from its pitfalls. Ever since Akif Effendi had been pensioned off, he had kept to himself and left the running of family affairs to his elder son and his wife. As far as Rushdi was concerned, neither of those two dear people had the necessary resolution to provide him with guidance and restraint. He preferred to make his own way and to do everything on impulse. In fact, had he not been even-tempered and considerate, he might well have crossed the line from youthful indiscretion to criminality.

His early educational career in primary and secondary schools had often heralded great success; to such an extent that even Ahmad declared that Rushdi seemed to have inherited some of his own intellectual abilities. But once he had enrolled in the School of Commerce things changed. Corruption bent his will. He found himself drawn toward a group of young men who indulged in heavy drinking, betting on card games, and in general living a dissolute life. His behavior became more and more crazy; he went into debt several times and neglected his studies, to such an extent that it almost caused a rift between himself and his brother. Things reached a climax when he started thinking seriously of abandoning his university studies and becoming a singer, and all because he had heard a lot about the bohemian lifestyle of singers and their success in attracting women, quite apart from the fact that he was well aware of what a sweet, harmonious voice he had. With that, Ahmad’s patience snapped; he warned his brother that he would cut off his allowance if he didn’t immediately stop behaving in such a debauched and reckless fashion. Sometimes he became so angry that he really felt as though he hated his brother. So strong was his feeling of resentment that he found himself doing some things that he himself was actually incapable of undertaking on his own, one or two of which caused him no small amount of heartache.

And yet, in spite of everything, the two brothers still remained very fond of each other, due in no small part to the talents of the younger one. Whenever the elder brother applied pressure, the younger one slowed his pace a little; whenever the former frowned, the latter smiled; if Ahmad cursed and swore, Rushdi used to laugh and then either kiss his brother’s hand or nudge his shoulder; if Ahmad clenched his fist, Rushdi would tease him ever so gently. This phase came to an end with a miracle. Yes indeed, a miracle in the form of a BA degree. All of which drove Ahmad to observe that here was a student being awarded a degree that gave its holder precedence over himself! But then he gave a deep sigh and realized that now his own responsibilities were over. He would not have to concern himself — to an excessive degree — with his younger brother’s raucous behavior any longer; Rushdi was in charge of his own life. All that meant that the atmosphere between the two brothers calmed down a lot; their mutual affection returned to the way it used to be when Rushdi was a boy, with nothing to mar the picture. In fact, they were so comfortable with each other that Rushdi would often share with his brother stories about his love affairs, drawing from his wide experience involving both chaste and distinctly unchaste episodes. He was just as likely to look for adventure in low dives as he was to chase pretty girls across roads and squares. He managed to collect a number of photographs of pretty girls with this odd expression scribbled in pleasant handwriting: “To my beloved fiancé, Rushdi.” It was not that he meant any harm to these young women or that he found it in any way easy to plot dirty tricks against them. The truth of the matter was that it was all too easy for him to fall victim to his own intense passions. For him nothing was easier than to become a lover, a genuine and sincere one at that. But, once he was involved, he would never actually swear a lie, all too often he would break his word.

When his emotions became really intense, it often happened that he would take it further and make a genuine, truthful promise; then there would be an engagement. But not long afterward, his emotions would calm down or something else would happen. In his life there was no such thing as peace and quiet; it provided fertile ground for pleasures and passions, so much so that he actually wore himself out. He grew thinner and downright skinny, so much so that, according to his parents, he looked like a beanpole. Ahmad, who loved him and felt sorry for him, kept looking at him anxiously. “Have pity on yourself,” he told his brother, to which Rushdi replied with his usual merriment, “God have mercy on us and you!” When the bank had sent him to work in the Asyut branch, his family had been secretly delighted — even though they were sorry to see him go so far away. They clung to the single hope that in his new posting — his exile to the South — their younger son might adjust his lifestyle and regain some of the health he had lost. They also hoped that he would be able to save some of his salary as well. For that very reason they were delighted when they heard he had been moved back to Cairo, all the while keeping their worries to themselves.