Palace of Desire

107

Kamal had come to the alley by himself this evening. Inebriated, he was singing under his breath as he made his way boldly through the boisterous tide of humanity. Finding Rose's door vacant, he did not hesitate as he would have when first getting to know the alley. Instead, he headed straight for the house and entered without knocking. He climbed the stairs to the hallway and once there glanced at the closed door, where light was visible through the keyhole. He went to the waiting room, which fortunately was empty. He sat down in a wooden chair and stretched his legs out with satisfaction. A few minutes later he heard the door creak open and prepared to stand up. The other man's movements as he left the bedroom and headed for the stairs were revealed by his footsteps. Kamal tarried a few moments before rising to go into the hall. Through the open door of her room he saw Rose, who was remaking the bed. When she noticed him, she smiled and called for him to sit back down a minute. He retraced his steps, smiling with the confidence of a regular customer. He soon heard someone come up the stairs, and that upset him. He hated to have to wait with other clients, but the new arrival headed for Rose's room.

Kamal heard the woman tell this man gently, "I have a customer. Go to the parlor and wait". Then she raised her voice to summon Kamal: "Please come in."

He rose without any hesitation and ran into the new arrival in the hall, He found himself face to face with Yasin. Their stunned eyes met. Kamal immediately looked down, seething with shame, confusion, and discomfort. He was about to run off as fast as he could, but Yasin forestalled that with a laugh so loud it reverberated strangely against the hall ceiling. The youth looked up at his brother, whose arms were opened wide as he yelled delightedly, "A thousand magnificent evenings! A thousand days of imperial splendor!" He roared with laughter as the dazed Kamal stared at him. When life started to flow through the youth again, he emerged from his stupor and a quizzical smile appeared on his lips. He regained his composure but did not lose his embarrassment.

In an oratorical tone, Yasin burst out, "This is a happy night: Thursday, October 28, 1926, a truly joyous evening. We'll have to celebrate it every year, for on this night two brothers discovered each other and it was demonstrated that the baby of the family's grown up. He's bearing aloft the banner of our glorious traditions in the world of pleasures."

Rose walked up and asked Yasin, "Your friend?"

Laughing, Yasin replied, "No, my brother. The son of my father and… No, my father's son. That says it all. So you see, you're the darling of the whole family, you nobody."

She murmured, "Swell". Then she told Kamal, "Etiquette dictates that you yield your turn to your older brother, kid."

Yasin roared his mighty laugh and said, "Etiquette dictates'! Who taught you the manners of sex? Can you imagine a brother waiting outside the door? Ha-ha…"

Giving him a warning look, she said, "If you laugh in that alarming way, drunkard, the police will hear. But you're excused, since your kid brother's always tipsy when he getshere."

Yasin looked at Kamal with astonished admiration. "You've learned that too!" he exclaimed. "My Lord, we really are blood brothers, in every way. Bring your mouth up close so I can smell it. But what's the use? A drunk can't detect the smell of liquor on anyone else's breath. Tell me now: What's your opinion of this wisdom you've gained from life instead of from books?" Then he pointed toward Rose and exclaimed, "One visit to this hussy's equivalent to reading ten banned books. So, you get drunk, Kamal…. A thousand bright days! We've been friends from the beginning. I'm the one who tau …"

"God, God! Am I going to have to wait till daybreak?"

Yasin gave Kamal a shove and said, "You go with her, and I'll wait."

But Kamal fell back, shaking his head in vehement rejection. Then he spoke for the first time: "No way! Not… not tonight". Putting his hand in his pocket, he took out ten piasters, which he gave to the woman.

Yasin cried out admiringly, "Long live gallantry! But I won't let you go off alone…". Giving Rose's shoulder a goodbye pat, he took Kamal's arm, and they left the building together.

Yasiti was saying, "We must celebrate this evening. So let's spend some time in a bar. I usually do my drinking on Muhammad Ali Street with a group of civil servants and some others, but it's not an appropriate place for you, and besides, it's far. Let's choose somewhere nearby, so we can get home in good time. Since my latest marriage, I'm as eager as you to return home early. Where did you get drunk tonight, hero?"

Kamal stammered with embarrassment, "The Finish."

"Great! Let's go there. Take advantage of this moment and make the most of it. Tomorrow when you're a teacher, visiting this district with its brothels and taverns will be difficult for you". Then, laughing, he continued: "Imagine one of your pupils running into you here…. Even so, the field of pleasure's wide open, and you'll soon advance in it to ever more beautiful experiences."

They continued on to the Finish Bar in silence. Fortunately the bond between Yasin and Kamal had not been affected by Yasin's exodus from the old house, and there was no artificial reserve between them. It was typical of Yasin to overlook his prerogatives as the eldest brother. What Kamal knew from firsthand observation of his brother's conduct as well as from other people's comments gave him every reason to believe that Yasin was addicted to women and easily influenced by passion. Even so, meeting his brother at Rose's was a violent shock, for his imagination had never pictured Yasin intoxicated or loitering down this alley. As time passed, Kamal began to recover gradually from the shock, and his alarm began to give way to confidence and even relief. When the brothers reached the Finish, they found it packed. So Yasin suggested they take a table outside, choosing one toward the edge of the sidewalk at the corner of the street, to be as far as possible from other people. Smiling, they sat down opposite each other.

Yasin asked, "How much have you had to drink?"

Kamal answered hesitantly, "Two glasses."

"No doubt our unexpected meeting destroyed their effect. Let's start all over. I only have a few, seven or eight…."

"You don't say! Is that a few?"

"Skip the naive astonishment, because you're not naive anymore."

"By the way, two months ago I didn't even know what it tasted like."

Yasin observed disapprovingly, "It seems I've given you more credit than you deserve."

They laughed together, and Yasin ordered a couple of drinks. Then he renewed his questioning: "When did you meet Rose?"

"I was introduced to Rose and whiskey the same night."

"What other experiences have you had with women?"

"None."

Yasin bowed his head slightly and looked at Kamal from beneath eyebrows contracted in a smiling frown as if to protest: "Come on now!" Then he said, "Don't play the fool. I had many opportunities to observe your flirtations with the daughter of Abu Sari', who grills snacks. At times it was a glance, then a gesture. Remember? Pimp, these matters can't be hidden from an expert. No doubt you were content to play with her, so you wouldn't find yourself obliged to make Abu Sari' your father-in-law unlike my former mother-in-law, who got involved in a marriage with Bayumi the drinks seller. Yes? Now he's a man of property and your next-door neighbor. I wonder where Maryam's hiding. No one's heard anything about her. Her father was a good man. Don't you remember Mr. Muhammad Ridwan? See what's become of his household. But it's all a question of manners. Any woman who neglects them will find herself despised."

Kamal could not help laughing as he asked, "What about men? Can they neglect their manners without getting in trouble?"

Yasin laughed in his forceful way and replied, "Men and women are two different things, smart aleck. Tell me, how's your mother? Is that good woman still angry at me, even after I've divorced Maryam?"

"I think she's forgotten the whole affair. She has a fine heart, as you know."

Yasin endorsed his brother's words and then shook his head sadly. The waiter brought the drinks and the appetizers. Yasin immediately raised his glass and said, "To the health of al-Sayyid Ahmad's family."

Kamal raised his too and drank half, hoping to regain his lost mirth. His mouth full of black bread and cheese, Yasin commented, "I imagined that, like our late brother, you resembled your mother in temperament. I thought you'd be a straight arrow, but you, but we …"

Kamal cast his brother a questioning look. Yasin smilingly continued: "But we're both created from our father's mold."

"Our father! He's so serious it's hardly possible to live with him."

Yasin roared with laughter. He hesitated a little before saying, "You don't know your father. I didn't either, but then an entirely different man was disclosed to me, an extraordinary one". He stopped speaking.

With great curiosity and interest Kamal asked, "What do you know that I don't?"

"I know he's a princely wit with a deep appreciation of music. Don't stare at me like an idiot. Don't think I'm drunk. Your father's a master of jests, music, and love."

"My father?"

"I learned that for the first time in the home of the singer Zubayda."

"Zubayda! What are you saying? … Ha-ha…"

But since Yasin's expression was anything but joking, Kamal stopped laughing even before his face could regain its serious look. His mouth closed gradually, until his lips were pressed together. He gazed silently at his brother's face as Yasin related in exhaustive detail what he had seen and heard of their father.

Was Yasin fabricating lies about his father? How could that be? What motive would justify it? No, he was only telling what he knew. So this was what Kamal's father was like.

"My Lord!" Kamal exclaimed to himself. "The seriousness, dignity, and gravity what are they? If you hear tomorrow that the earth's flat or that mankind really did spring from Adam, don't be surprised or alarmed."

Finally Kamal asked, "Does my mother know about this?"

Yasin laughingly replied, "She's no doubt aware of the drinking at least."

"I wonder what effect that's had on her," Kamal brooded. "She becomes alarmed for no reason at all. Is my mother like me in presenting a happy front while feeling wretched inside?"

As though marshaling excuseshe did not believe in, Kamal observed, "People love to exaggerate. Don't believe everything they say. Besides, his health showshe's a temperate man."

Gesturing for the waiter to bring another round, Yasin said admiringly, "He's a marvel! His body's a miracle. His spirit's another. Everything about him's miraculous, even his glib tongue". They both laughed. Then Yasin continued: "Imagine, in spite of all this, he rules his family with the firm hand you know and maintains his dignity as you can plainly see. How come I'm such a failure?"

"Consider these wonders," Kamal advised himself. "You're drinking with Yasin. Your father's a shameless old man. What's genuine and what's not? Is there any relationship between reality and what's in our heads? What value does history have? What connection is there between the beloved A'ida and the pregnant A'ida? I myself who am I? Why did you suffer this savage pain from which you've yet to recover? Laugh till you're exhausted."

"What would happen if he saw us sitting here?"

Yasin snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "I take refuge in God!"

"Is Zubayda really beautiful?"

Yasin whistled and wriggled his eyebrows.

"Surely it's unfair that our father gets to enjoy such a sumptuous treat while all we can find are skinny girls."

"Wait your turn. You're still a beginner."

"Hasn't your relationship with him changed since you discovered his secret?"

"Anything but that!"

There was a dreamy look in Kamal's eyes as he said, "If only he had bestowed some of his charm on us…."

"If only…."

"We couldn't be much worse off than we are."

"What's so bad about loving women and drinking? …"

"How can you reconcile his conduct with his deep faith?"

"Am I an atheist? Are you? Were those caliphs who indulged their carnal appetites pagans? God's merciful and forgiving."

Kamal asked himself, "What would my father say? I really wish I could discuss these issues with him. Any thing's possible, but I can't believe he's a hypocrite. No, he's not that. The only new dimension of his character revealed is love."

Kamal's final swallow left him in a jesting mood. He commented, "It's too bad he didn't go into acting."

Yasin laughed loudly and replied, "If he'd known the opportunities life offers actors to enjoy women and wine, he would have dedicated his life to this art."

"Is al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad really the butt of this joke?" Kamal wondered. "But is he any more exalted than Adam? And even so., you learned the truth of man's origin by accident. Chance occurrences have played a most significant role in your life. If I had not met Yasin by accident in the alley, the veil of ignorance would not have been lifted from my eyes. If Yasin, ignorant though he is, had not gotten me interested in reading, today I'd be in the Medical School, as my father hoped. If I'd enrolled in a different secondary school, like al-Sa'idiya, I wouldn't have met Aida. In that case, I would be a different person now. I'd see existence in some other fashion. People like to fault Darwin for his reliance on chance in the explanation of the mechanics of his system…."

Yasin observed sagely, "Time will teach you what you haven't learned yet". Of himself he said sarcastically, "It's taught me to get my enjoyment early in the evening, so I don't awaken my wife's doubts." Then he added, "She's the most forceful of my three wives. I imagine I'll never get rid of her."

Pointing toward the alley, Kamal asked with considerable interest, "What takes you there, now that you're on your third marriage?"

Yasin repeated a famous phrase from the song Kamal had first heard at Aisha's wedding: "Because … because … because …" Then, smiling uneasily, he continued: "Zanuba told me once, 'You've never been married. You've always considered marriage a love affair. It's time for you to start taking it seriously.' Isn't it strange that a woman entertainer should say such things? But she seems more dedicated to married life than either of my two previous spouses. She's determined to remain my wife until I die. But I can't resist women. I fall in love quickly and get bored quickly. For this reason, I repair to alleys like this one to satisfy my desires immediately without any need to get involved in a long affair. If it weren't for boredom, I wouldn't look for women in Massage Alley."

With ever-increasing interest, Kamal asked, "Aren't these women like any others?"

"Certainly not. A prostitute's a woman without a heart. For her, love's a commodity."

His eyes sparkling with hope, Kamal asked, "What do you think distinguishes one woman from another?"

Yasm nodded his head proudly because of the status conferred on him by Kamal's questions. With the confident tone of an expert, he responded, "A woman's place within the ranks of females is determined by her moral and emotional qualities, without consideration of family or class. I think more highly of Zanuba, for example, than I did of Zaynab, because Zanuba's more emotional, more sincere, and more dedicated to our marriage. But in the end, you'll find they're all the same. Even if you had an affair with the Queen of Sheba herself, you'd inevitably find she became boring to look at and like a song you're tired of hearing."

The gleam in Kamal's eyes disappeared. Had Aida become boring to look at and an overly familiar song? "That's really hard to believe," he told himself. "But you are reality's victim. It's even hard to gloat at her misfortune. Learning that time could turn the beloved, whom the soul still misses, into an overly familiar sight and a tired song might drive a person crazy. In fact, if you had a choice, wouldn't you rather regret her loss than come to find her boring? Of course, at times I sigh for boredom because my desire's so strong, just as Yasin longs for desire because he's bored. Raise your head to the Lord of the heavens and ask Him for a happy solution."

"Haven't you ever been in love?"

"So what do you think I'm currently drowning in?"

"I mean genuine love, not passing lust."

Yasin finished his third drink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, twisted his mustache, and then said, "Don't hold it against me if love's concentrated for me in certain locations, like the mouth, the hand, and so forth."

"Yasin's handsome," Kamal observed to himself. "She would never have made fun of his head or nose. But his words make him seem truly pitiable. How can a man be a real man without love? But what's the use of it, since all it has brought you is pain?"

Gesturing for Kamal to empty his glass, Yasin continued: "Don't believe what they say about love in novels. Love's an emotion that lasts a few days or at best a few weeks."

"I've stopped believing in immortality, but is it possible to forget love?" Kamal asked himself. "I'm no longer the way I was. I'm escaping from love's hellish suffering. Life occasionally distracts me. But then I slip back. Once I directed my attention toward death. Today I look to life, although a hopeless one. It's amazing, that you rebel against the idea of forgetting her. You almost seem to be blaming yourself for something. Or are you afraid you'll discover the most exalted thing you ever reverenced was just a fantasy? Are you refusing to let oblivion carry off this splendid manifestation of life for fear you'll wake up to find yourself of no more significance than if you'd never been born? Don't you remember why you spread your hands out in prayer to ask God to rescue you from torment and grant you forgetfulness?"

"But true love exists. We read about its effects in the papers, not just in novels."

Yasin smiled sarcastically and said, "Afflicted though I am by the love of women, I won't admit that 'true' love exists. The tragedies we read about in newspapers are actually accounts of youthful inexperience. Have you heard of the ancient Arab poet called 'Layla's Fool' because love for her drove him crazy? There are probably others like him in your stories, but he, Majnun, never married Layla. Show me one person who went insane because he loved his wife too much. Alas! Husbands are rational men, very rational, even when it goes against the grain. But a wife's madness commences with her wedding day, because nothing less than devouring her husband will satisfy her. It seems to me that crazy people become lovers because they're crazy. Lovers don't go insane just because they're in love. You'll observe these lunatics talking about a woman as though she were an angel. A woman's nothing more than a woman. She's a tasty dish of which you quickly get your fill. Let those crazy lovers share a bed with her so they can see what she looks like when she wakes up or smell her sweat or other odors. After that are they going to talk about angels? A woman's charm is a matter of cosmetics and other seductive devices. Once you fall into her trap, you see her for the human being she really is. The secret forces holding marriages together aren't beauty or charm but children, the dowry's balance demanded in exchange for a divorce, and the support payments."

"It would only be fitting if he'd change his opinion on seeing Ai'da," Kamal told himself. "But you better rethink this question of love. You once considered it an angelic inspiration, but now you deny the existence of angels. So search for it within man's essence. Insert it into the list of theoretical and practical realities you wis ti to confront boldly. In this way you'll learn the secret of your tragedy and strip the veil away from Ai'da's hidden essence. You won't discover her to be an angel, but the door of enchantment will swing open for you. How wretched it makes me to think of things like pregnancy and its craving, A'ida as an overly familiar sight, and body odors."

With distress that Yasin did not notice, Kamal said, "Man's a filthy creature. Couldn't he have been created better and cleaner?"

Although not looking at anything in particular, Yasin reared his head back and said with curious joy, "God… God, my soul's so shimmering it's turning into a song. My limbs are turning into musical instruments. The world's sweet and full of creatures dear to my heart. The weather's delightful. Reality's a figment of our imaginations, and what's imaginary's real. Trouble is nothing but a legend. God, God, what a beautiful thing alcohol is, Kamal. May God grant it a long existence, perpetuate it for us, and grant us the health and strength to drink it to the end of our days. May God destroy the home of anyone who tampers with it or fabricates lies about it. Relish this beautiful intoxication. Reflect on it. Close your eyes. Does any other pleasure compare with this? God… God… God!"

Lowering his head to look at Kamal, he continued: "What did you say, my son? 'Man's a filthy creature'? Were you offended by my comments about women? I wasn't saying that to arouse disgust for them. The fact is that I love them. I love them with all their faults. But I wanted to demonstrate that the angelic woman does not exist. In fact, if she did, I doubt I'd love her. Like your father, I love full hips. An angel with a heavy bottom wouldn't be able to fly. Take care to understand me and don't misinterpret my words, by the life of our father, al-Sayyid Ahmad."

Kamal quickly grew as tipsy as his brother and said, "Once alcohol's circulating through the body, the world certainly seems adorable."

"God bless your mouth! Now even the usual refrain of beggars in the street sounds enchanting to the ear."

"And our sorrows seem to belong to other men."

"But their women seem our own."

"It all amounts to the same thing, my father's son."

"God, God, I don't want to sober up."

"One vile aspect of life is that we can't stay drunk as long as we'd like."

"Please understand that I don't see drunkenness as just an amusement but as the heavenly goal of life on a par with knowledge and our highest ideals."

"In that case I'm a great philosopher."

"You will be, when you believe what I've said; not before."

"May God grant you a long life, Father, for you've begotten philosophers just like you."

"Why should a man be miserable when all he needs is a drink and a woman, since there are plenty of bottles and women too?"

"Why? … Why?"

"I'll tell you the answer once I've drunk one more."

"No," Yasin said in a voice that betrayed a fleeting sobriety. Then he cautioned Kamal again, "Don't overdo it. I'm your drinking partner tonight, so I'm responsible for you. What time is it?" He took out his watch and exclaimed, "Twelve-thirty! Hero, we're in trouble. We're both late. You have our father to worry about, and I've got Zanuba. Let's go."

In no time at all they had left the bar and boarded a carriage that rushed off with them toward al-Ataba, circling the fence around the Ezbekiya Garden on a road buried in darkness. Every now and then they saw a pedestrian hurry or stagger by. Whenever the carriage passed an intersection, the fresh breeze carried to them the sound of people singing. Above the buildings and the lofty trees of the Garden, vigilant stars glittered.

Yasin laughingly said, "Tonight I'll be able to swear quite confidently that I've done nothing reprehensible."

Kamal said rather anxiously, "I hope I get home before my father.'"

"Nothing's more wretched than fear. Long live the revolution!"

"Yes, long live the revolution!"

"Down with the tyrannical wife!"

"Down with the tyrannical father!"