Khan Al-Khalili

29

Life resumed its normal course. Even though Rushdi and Kamal Khalil had only known each other for a short while and they were so far apart in age, their friendship was soon on a firm footing, not least because Rushdi was so elegant and astute. Kamal invited Rushdi to the Zahra Café, and he came and sat down with his brother’s friends — and his brother as well. His mild manner and bright expression both insured that he soon earned their admiration.

He liked this group of friends and decided to spend some time there once in a while. Soon afterward, Kamal Khalil invited him to visit his home. Rushdi was, of course, delighted to do so, and bonds of friendship soon developed. The elder man trusted Rushdi to such a degree that he even introduced him to his wife and daughter, thus lifting the veil separating Rushdi from Kamal’s family life. For Rushdi the invitation came out of the blue. He had never expected anything like it from a family in the al-Husayn quarter, which was very conservative in its values. Actually, his own family was considered extremely conservative even though there were no daughters. Neither he, nor his brother — let alone their father — would even consider introducing a strange man to their mother. Even so, Rushdi was delighted by Kamal’s gesture; it thrilled him to find himself trusted to such an extent. He now managed to portray himself as a serious thinker and put on a display of stolid conservatism. As a result, he found himself taking over Professor Ahmad Rashid’s position as tutor to Nawal and Muhammad.

When Rushdi’s brother heard about this turn of events, he was thunderstruck; he did not know how this had come to pass. It was as though Rushdi had become a member of their neighbor’s family. In a single day he had somehow managed to train himself to achieve this kind of responsible position, one that Ahmad had not managed to achieve in twenty years! Once again Ahmad found himself staring at his brother with a blend of amazement and envy, but he managed to put on a show of complete ignorance about what was going on. He had already closed the window on his miseries, so now he would have to turn a blind eye to all this as well. He surrendered himself to patient endurance, with which he had long become inured.

From the outset their mother was fully aware of exactly what was going on. Rushdi was not one to hide secrets. Whenever he was at home, he would be by the window; when time came for tutorials, he would rush over to their neighbor’s home. A passion had grabbed him by the heart; signs of it were visible in the way he paid unusual attention to his appearance, in the nostalgic tone in his singing, and in the fact that he went out so early in the morning — the real reason for which was no longer a secret from anyone. In fact, the neighbor’s family seemed to be just as aware of something to which he had long since become inured; they all seemed to have high hopes for a happy outcome. Sitt Dawlat, the boys’ mother, was well aware of all of this. She questioned herself about it, but could not come up with any strong objections to the idea.

“How long, O Lord,” she would sometimes mutter to herself sorrowfully, “How long must I wait until I can be like every other mother and celebrate my own sons being happily married?”

But did Nawal really deserve her son? Why not? She was pretty and educated, from a good family; her father was a civil servant. Everything seemed right. But one thing troubled her: could Rushdi get married before his elder brother? But what was she supposed to do? She would have to wait and see what transpired in the days ahead, all in accordance with the all-prudent will of God Almighty.

This time Rushdi had fallen victim to his own love game. What had started as a usual case of flirting had now turned into true love. He was feeling a genuine affection for Nawal. After all, she was his beloved neighbor at the window; companion on the morning road to the hills garlanded with fluffy clouds; infatuated student with whom he could exchange loving looks over the table while they did arithmetic, algebra, and geometry; and cinema companion every Friday morning. Love hovered over these two joyful hearts and joined them together in a craving for affection and felicity.

By now Rushdi’s life had turned into a never-ending string of activities, one that preyed on his body and nerves. He was either focusing on his job at the bank, floating in a haze of passion, or carousing at the Ghamra Casino. He could only snatch a bit of sleep early in the morning. This new love of his had not managed to break his habits when it came to chronic gambling, indulgence in heavy drinking, or indeed in illicit sex. He told himself he was quite capable of handling such pleasures without any problems, and the plain fact that they had become habitual led him to forget entirely that they were actually major flaws in his character. Not for a single moment was he willing to forego his indulgence in all of them, nor did it occur to him that somehow his life might need to change. Money, booze, and love, those were the things he worshipped, although he may have had the occasional qualm over the amount of money and trouble this lifestyle managed to cause him.

“When I get married,” he used to say by way of consolation, “I’ll put a stop to it all!”

If he had been really honest with himself, he would have decided to forget about all this inappropriate frivolity in his life and to focus on marriage. However, what allowed him to make light of it all was that one day he managed to deposit the sum of fifty pounds in the bank — his profits from gambling. He told himself that if he could save enough of his salary for a whole year and add it to that amount, he would certainly have enough for his marriage expenses. But when would that year need to start?

It was this plan that he kept postponing, surrendering himself instead to the tyrannical demands of his own desires. He had yet to learn how to control his passions, impose limits on his desires, or curb his will. Eventually, however, he did begin to pause to contemplate his dilemma, with one eye on the debauched life he had been leading and another on the girl he desired.