Khan Al-Khalili

21

Nawal was quite upset when she got home. “How can this boy be so brazen?” she asked herself. “He’s been chasing me ever since he set eyes on me yesterday!”

At this point she was just over sixteen years old. She was certainly pretty. Her prettiness resided in two principal features: her naiveté and her charm. But, one might well ask, what did those things imply exactly? The naiveté was of the kind invoked by beauty in its most basic form, to be seen in a pure, bright-eyed expression and a straightforward look; certainly in no way linked to stupidity or simple-mindedness. The charm resulted from the neat way she dressed and the kindly disposition she showed toward people. Apart from that, she was not the slightest bit flirtatious or silly, nor did she seem particularly intelligent or clever. She had a lovely olive-colored complexion, something that her mother always maintained was the epitome of beauty and a source of charm. Actually, her mother preferred a whiter complexion. She was convinced that being a little plump gave the complexion a particular glow, and that is why she tried to counteract her daughter’s slim figure by regularly plying her with fattening foods to make her gain weight.

The daughter’s progress at secondary school suggested that she would do well. However, truth to tell, she may have been willing to go through the process but it was not what she really wanted; school was not the focus of her heart’s desires. Her dreams remained firmly fixed on the home, and she continued to regard her mother as her primary teacher, the one who was teaching her household skills such as cooking, weaving, and embroidery. As far as she was concerned, education was merely an accessory to be added to her femininity, a precious piece of jewelry that would require a larger dowry. For her, life was entirely focused on a single goal: heart, home, and marriage. After all, wasn’t that the very first prayer uttered by any prospective bride? What a wonderful prayer it was! That was precisely what she was aspiring to, and she was prepared to wait for her chance with patience and hope. That is why she had chosen to sanctify marriage long before she herself was ready for it. She was in love with “the man,” although that remained for her both an unknown dream and an unclear feeling. She was therefore a ripe piece of fruit, ready for plucking and waiting for the right person to do so.

The young lawyer, Ahmad Rashid, had been the first man ever — apart from her own family members, that is — to have any close contact with her, and that was in order to give her some tutoring. From the outset she had greeted him shyly and had eyed him with both curiosity and hope. As far as she was concerned, he was not so much a teacher as a real man. Her heart softened a little, and life began to quicken its pulse. However, the young lawyer was far more strict and serious than necessary, and she was totally incapable of gauging the real feelings that lurked behind his dark eyes. At first he merely patronized her, but, when he started actually scolding her as well, she came to regard him as being both gloomy and somewhat frightening. With that she changed her mind about him and lost hope.

He would often talk to her in ways that she could not understand or make nasty comments such as, “It seems to me you don’t appreciate learning the way you should, even though you’re not lacking in either initiative or basic intelligence. You should appreciate it as much as you do life; after all, the two are linked in the same way the mind is to the person: you must use learning to feed your mind in the same way as you use food to nourish your body. Where is that longing for the world’s great secrets? Where is the passion for knowledge? When it comes to the realms of knowledge and the unknown, it is simply not right for a woman’s heart to be in any way less advanced than that of a man.”

“What are you planning to do after you get your high school diploma?” he asked her on another occasion. “Haven’t you thought about what you want to study at university yet?”

“I don’t know,” she had replied at the time.

“Oh, I see!” the young man replied angrily. “You’re still feeling negative about knowledge, is that it?”

She obviously did not realize that this young man was trying to mold her into the kind of woman that he wanted her to be; she thought instead that all he was doing was mocking her. And that made her dislike him even more.

Then along came Ahmad Akif, the new arrival in the neighborhood. Rumor had it that he was still a bachelor. She was overjoyed when she saw him sneaking glances in her direction; her heart was edging its way in his direction just as a pair of hands will move toward a brazier of hot coals on a freezing cold night. “He’s not young any more,” she told herself, “but he’s still in the prime of middle-age. He must be a well-regarded government employee; by the time such a person is his age, they have to be respected.” Whatever the case, she could not ignore the glances that he was directing at her with such amiable diffidence or fail to realize that love was the motivating factor. If that were not the case, she asked herself, why on earth would he spend hour after hour every afternoon waiting by the window? And why, she wondered, wasn’t he taking the next step, but seemed content just to steal glances at her? Hadn’t he smiled at her, and signaled a greeting to her? Did bashfulness affect men’s minds the way it did women’s? If so, why didn’t he talk to her father? Or why didn’t he ask his mother to act as intermediary? Nawal was a lively girl, and needed someone to be pursuing her. Now chance had sent her a middle-aged man who desperately needed someone to pursue him. By this time she had despaired of his plucking up enough courage to make the first move, so she took the initiative. She waved at him from her balcony and received a beautiful response. Now her heart told her that her aspirations might soon be fulfilled.

But at about noon on the day before the festival a new face had appeared in the very same apartment; in fact, in the room that directly faced her own bedroom. She realized at once that this new young man was the younger brother of her middle-aged acquaintance. But where had he been before, she wondered. What did he think he was doing staring at her in such a brazen fashion, something that sent the blood rushing to her cheeks from every extremity in her body and made her run away? What a nice-looking young man he was! And how he stared at her, enough to send the heart into palpitations. Did he behave this way with every pretty girl he spotted, or had he detected something unusual about her face? Would he be staying in that same room from now on, or would he disappear again just as suddenly as he had appeared? Her heart told her that this young man was inarguably better than his middle-aged brother, and yet the elder brother wasn’t a stranger any more. They had exchanged greetings. If he asked for her hand, he would be the favorite. She needed to bear in mind that they had made a silent pact, one that, God willing, would soon turn into the noise of wedding instruments, glittering chandeliers, and bright confetti to delight onlookers.

On the morning of the feast she had put on her new clothes. Her heart told her she should make an appearance on the balcony so that her middle-aged friend could see her looking her very best. She had found him standing by the window looking as fine as he possibly could; his gallabiya and skullcap reminded her of her own father. They exchanged greetings, then she went back to her room. At that moment her feelings urged her to take a look at the other window as well. There she found the younger brother, apparently waiting for her. When he stared straight at her, she quickly withdrew.

She had convinced herself that his brazen behavior would never go beyond the window, so it was a total shock to find him waiting for her by the New Road. On the trolley she kept asking herself whether he was actually following her or she was simply imagining things. It did not take long for her to realize that he was quite deliberately following her and was not to be diverted from his purpose. Funnily enough, he had managed to forget about her while they were in the cinema because he was so entranced by Umm Kulthum’s singing, but she spent the entire time fully aware of the fact that he was sitting very close to her.

When she went home, she was feeling happier than she had ever known. “If all young men were as persistent as he is,” she chuckled to herself, “there wouldn’t be a single unmarried girl!” Now her heart started scolding her for being so quick to exchange greetings with the elder brother. But then, how was she supposed to have any knowledge of the unseen? She was completely flustered, and did not enjoy the special Eid stew or the fish either.

That afternoon she left her family’s apartment, intending to pay a visit to Sayyid Effendi Arif’s wife. But before she paid the visit, she decided to go up to the roof and cast her eye over the minarets and domes of the old city. Now that she could no longer play with the younger girls in the street, the roof had become her favorite spot. She walked slowly alongside the parapet, taking in the view and looking out toward the horizon. Just then she felt a strong urge to look toward the entrance to the roof. She was amazed to find him standing there, his tall form completely filling up the doorway. He was staring straight at her, a gentle smile evident in his beautiful eyes. The very sight of him gave her a jolt and made her feel scared and a bit panic stricken. However, she soon recovered her composure. Realizing that the situation was serious and required something more than a simple display of bashfulness, she gave him a glare that registered both disapproval and dismay.