Midaq Alley

33

It was a day of joyful leave-taking. Radwan Hussainy was loved and respected by everyone in the alley. Hussainy had hoped God would choose him to make the holy pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina this year and so He had. Everyone knew this was the day Radwan Hussainy would leave for Suez on his way to those holy lands, and his house was filled with well-wishers, lifelong friends and devout Muslims.

They clustered in his modest room, which had so often echoed with their pious and friendly discussions. They chatted about the pilgrimage and their reminiscences of it, their voices rising from every corner of the room and mixing with a trail of smoke billowing up from the brazier. They told tales of the modern pilgrimage and those of bygone days and related holy traditions and beautiful verses concerning it. One man, with a melodious voice, chanted verses from the Holy Qur'an, and then they all listened to a long and eloquent speech by Radwan Hussainy that expressed his heart's goodness.

A pious friend wished him: "A happy journey and safe return." Hussainy beamed and replied in his most gentle manner, "Please, my friend, don't remind me of my return. Anyone who visits God's house with a longing for home deserves to have God deny him reward, ignore his prayers, and destroy his happiness. I will think of returning only when I have left the scene of the revelations on my way back to Egypt. And by 'returning' I mean going back on the pilgrimage again, with the help and permission of the All Merciful. If only I could spend the rest of my life in the Holy Land, seeing the ground which once was trod by the Prophet, the sky once filled with the angels singing, and listening to the divine revelation coming down to earth and rising to the skies again with souls from the earth. There one's mind is filled only with the revelations of eternity. One throbs with love for God. There are the remedy and the cure. Oh, my brother, I long for Mecca and its bright heavens. I long to hear the whispering of time at every corner, to walk down its streets and lose myself in its holy places. How I long to drink from the well of Zamzam and take the road of the Messenger on his Flight, followed by the multitudes of thirteen hundred years ago and those of today, too. I long to feel my heart grow chill when I visit the grave of the Prophet and pray in the Holy Garden. I can see myself now, my brothers, walking through the lanes of Mecca reciting verses from the Qur'an just as they were first revealed, as if I were listening to a lesson given by the Almighty Being. What joy! I can see myself kneeling in the garden imagining the beloved face of the Prophet before me, just as it appears to me in my sleep. What joy! I can see myself prostrated low before the edifice and pleading for forgiveness. What peace I'll have! I see myself going to the well of Zamzam, saturating with water those wounds of passion and crying out for a cure — what divine peace! My brother, speak not of my return, but pray with me to God to fulfill my hopes…"

His friend replied, "May God fulfill your hopes and give you a long and happy life."

Radwan Hussainy lifted his outstretched palm to his beard, his eyes glistening with joy and passion, and continued: "A fine prayer! My love for the afterlife does not turn me toward asceticism or make me dissatisfied with life. You all know of my love for life, and why not? It is a part of the creation of the All Merciful, who filled it with tears and with joys. Let, then, he who will give thought and thanks. I love life in all its colors and sounds, its nights and days, joys and sorrows, beginnings and ends. I love all things living and moving and still. It is all pure goodness. Evil is no more than the inability of the sick to see the good concealed in the crevices. The weak and sick suspect God's world. I believe that love of life is half of worshipping and love of the afterlife is the other half. Therefore, too, I am shocked by the tears and suffering, rage and anger, spite and malice which weigh down the world, and the criticism with which, as well as all these, the weak and sick afflict it. Would they prefer their lives had not been created? Would they ever have loved if they had not been created from nonexistence? Are they really tempted to deny divine wisdom? I do not declare myself innocent. Once sorrow overcame me too and it ate away a piece of my heart. In the throes of my pain and sorrow I asked myself: Why did God not leave my child to enjoy his share of life and happiness? Did not He, the Glorious and Almighty, create the child? Why, then, should He not take him back when He wished? If God had wanted him to have life, then the child would have remained on earth until His will was done. But He reclaimed my child in all the wisdom His will decreed. God does nothing that is not wise, and wisdom is good. My Lord wished well of both me and the child. A feeling of joy overcame me when I realized that His wisdom was greater than my sorrow. I told myself: O God, You brought affliction upon me and put me to the test. I have come through the test with my faith still firm, certain of Your wisdom. Thank You, O God.

"It has since been my practice that whenever anything afflicts me, I express my joyful thanks from the bottom of my heart. Why should I not do so?"

"Whenever I pass over some test to the shores of peace and faith, I become more and more convinced of the wisdom with which He uses His power. In this way my afflictions always keep me in touch with His wisdom. Why, you could even imagine me as a child playing in his own little world. God treated me severely to rebuke me, frightening me with His mock sternness to double my delight in His real and everlasting kindness. Lovers often put their loved ones to a test, and if they only realized that test is merely a trick and not serious, then their delight in their lovers would be increased. I have always believed that those afflicted on earth are the closest favorites of God. He lavishes love on them in secret, lying in wait for them not far off, to see whether they are really worthy of His love and mercy. All praise to God, for because of his generosity I have been able to comfort those who thought me in need of consolation."

He drew his hand happily over his broad chest, feeling, in so expressing himself, much the same contentment as a singer lost in the rhythm of a melody and elated with the power of his art. He continued with firm conviction: "Some consider that such tragedies afflicting apparently blameless people are signs of a revengeful justice, the wisdom of which is beyond the understanding of most people. So you will hear them say that if the bereaved father, for example, thought deeply, he would realize his loss was a just punishment for some sin either he or his forebears committed. Yet surely God is more just and merciful than to treat the innocent as the guilty. Yet you hear these people justify their opinion by God's Qur'anic description of Himself as 'mighty and revengeful.' But I tell you, gentlemen, that Almighty God has no need of revenge and only adopted this attribute to advise man to practice it. God had already stated that the affairs of this life should be settled only on the basis of reward and punishment. Dear and Almighty God's own essential attributes are wisdom and mercy."

"If I saw in the loss of my children a punishment or penalty I merit, then I would agree with that philosophy and be censured. But I would still be depressed and dissatisfied and no doubt protest that an innocent child died for a weak man's sins. And is that forgiveness and mercy? And where is the tragedy in what reveals wisdom, goodness, and joy?"

Radwan Hussainy's opinions drew objections based on both the literal texts and the scholastic interpretations of Islam. Some present insisted that what seemed revenge was in fact mercy. Many of the other men were both more eloquent and erudite than Radwan, but he had not really been inviting argument. He had merely been expressing the love and joy welling up within him. He smiled, as innocent as a child, his face flushed and his eyes beaming, and went on: "Please forgive me, gentlemen. Permit me to disclose a hidden secret. Do you know what has prompted me to make the pilgrimage this year?"

Radwan Hussainy was silent a moment, his clear eyes glistening with a brilliant light. Then he spoke, in reply to the interested looks in his direction: "I don't deny that I always longed to make the pilgrimage, but each time it was God's will that I put the matter off. Then, as you know, certain things happened here in the alley. The devil managed to ensnare three of our neighbors — a girl and two men. He led the two men to rob a tomb and then left them in prison. As for the girl, the devil led her to the well of sensuality and plunged her into the slime of depravity. All this nearly broke my heart. And I don't wish to disguise from you, gentlemen, my feelings of guilt, for one of the two men lived by mere crumbs of food. He ransacked the graves and decayed bones seeking something of value like a stray dog scratching for food from a garbage heap. His hunger made me think of my own well-fed body and I was overcome with shame and humility. I asked myself what I had done, after all God's goodness to me, to prevent his tragic plight. Had I not simply let the devil amuse himself with my neighbors while I remained lost in my own complacent joy? Cannot a good man unknowingly be an accomplice of the devil by keeping to himself? My conscience told me that I should seek forgiveness in the land of repentance and stay there as long as God wills. I will return with a pure heart and I will put my all to good works in God's kingdom…" The holy men said prayers for him and happily continued their conversation.

After leaving his house, Radwan Hussainy visited Kirsha's cafe to say farewell. He was surrounded by Kirsha, Uncle Kamil, Sheikh Darwish, Abbas, and Hussain Kirsha. Husniya, the baker-ess, entered and kissed his hand, asking him to pay her respects to the Holy Land. Radwan Hussainy addressed them all: "The pilgrimage is a duty for all who can make it. One should perform it for oneself and for all those who cannot go."

Uncle Kamil said in his childlike voice, "May peace and safety accompany you and perhaps you will bring us back some prayer beads from Mecca."

Hussainy smiled and said, "I won't be like that fellow who gave you a shroud and then laughed at you."

Uncle Kamil chuckled and would have pursued the matter had he not seen Abbas' somber face. Radwan Hussainy had deliberately brought up this subject in the hope of getting through to the miserable Abbas. He turned to him sympathetically and said gently but firmly, "Abbas, please listen to me like the nice sensible fellow you are. Take my advice. Go back to Tell el-Kebir today. Work hard and save your money for a new life, God willing. Don't worry about your past bad luck. You're still only in your late twenties and your disillusion is only a small part of what every man suffers in his lifetime. Why, you'll get over this just as a child gets over measles. Be brave, and act like a man. In later life you'll recall it with the smile of a conqueror. Go on, put your trust in patience and faith. Earn as much as possible and be as happy as a pious man convinced that God has chosen him to help those in need."

Abbas made no reply, but when he saw Radwan Hussainy's eyes fixed on him, he smiled and said vaguely, "Everything will pass just as though it never happened."

Radwan Hussainy turned to Hussain Kirsha, saying, "Welcome to the cleverest fellow in our alley! I will pray to God to lead you where your prayers will be answered. God willing, I hope to find you in your father's place when I get back, just as he wants."

At this, Sheikh Darwish emerged from his silence and said thoughtfully, "Oh, Radwan Hussainy, remember me when you are in the ritual dress and tell the People of the House that their lover's passion has drained and drunk him dry. Tell them he has spent all his wealth and possessions in pursuit of a futile love. Complain to them of the treatment he has suffered from the Lady of Ladies."

Radwan Hussainy left the cafe surrounded by his friends. He was now joined by two relatives who intended to travel with him as far as Suez. Hussainy turned off into the alley's business premises and found Salim Alwan poring over his ledgers. He greeted him cheerfully. "It's time for me to go; let me say farewell to you."

Alwan lifted his colorless face in surprise; he knew that Hussainy was leaving, but it did not interest him in the least. Radwan Hussainy knew, as everyone else did, of Alwan's sad condition, but he ignored his indifference and refused to leave the quarter before saying goodbye. Alwan now seemed a bit embarrassed by his indifference. Suddenly Radwan Hussainy folded Alwan in his arms, kissed him, and said a long prayer for him. Hussainy then rose, saying, "Let's pray to God that next year we can make the pilgrimage together."

"If God wills," muttered Salim Alwan mechanically.

They embraced once more, and Radwan Hussainy rejoined his friends. They all walked to the alley entrance, where a carriage loaded with baggage was waiting. The traveler shook hands heartily with his well-wishers, and he and his relatives got into the carriage. His friends watched it move slowly toward Ghouriya Street and then turn into Azhar Street.