Read Online Khan Al-Khalili by Naguib Mahfouz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Naguib Mahfouz
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good fortune to be new neighbors, would we?”
Ahmad was aware that what the boss had said at first was intended to poke a bit of fun at him, even though it may not have been malicious. The rest of it obliged him to show some gratitude.
“Thank you, Boss,” he replied with a smile. “Prudent people have often told us that there is security to be found in the al-Husayn quarter.”
The other man took another huge puff and let out a cloud of thick smoke. “That’s true enough,” he said. “It’sa blessed and much loved quarter, much honored because of the person it’s named for. In days to come you’ll realize that from now on you won’t be able either to forget it or do without it. A deep-seated emotion will continually call you back. Here, take a puff from the shisha.”
Ahmad thanked him but declined. As he listened to his companion, he kept enjoying the sips of tea. Wanting to join his companion in a smoke, but of his own kind, he took out a cigarette and lit it with a smile. He felt very relaxed as he sat there talking to his new neighbor, probably because there was a strange quality about him, something he had never encountered in anyone before. His simplicity, frankness, and forceful presence, they all surprised him, but what was more important than any of those things was that Ahmad felt a sense of superiority that stroked his own tortured vanity. That impression made Ahmad want to get to know him better.
“Why don’t you like the shisha?” Boss Nunu asked. “It’s just like a cigarette except with water. The smoke’s filtered and purified. Beyond that, it conveys an aura of authority, and the gurgling sound it makes has a music of its own. And its very shape has sex appeal.”
Ahmad could not help laughing, but his laugh was drowned out by the ringing guffaws from the boss himself; they sounded like a continuous loud mooing and culminated in a burst of coughing that went on and on until he ran out of breath.
“Do you think we locals are stupid?” he asked Ahmad, his face still smiling. “Do you realize that English tourists come to visit this quarter in droves; many, many more than Arabs. But, in any case, by al-Husayn’s faith and God’s,may you find untold happiness in his quarter and may our relationship and your time here be a happy one too, in spite of whatever Hitler and Mussolini decide to do.”
“God willing, that will be so.”
“A number of distinguished government personnel like yourself live in the area,” the boss went on by way of encouragement.
“Oh Boss, please! I’m not that important.” Ahmad hurriedly replied.
“No, I swear by al-Husayn and his beloved grandfather, the Prophet himself. Most of my friends in the neighborhood are officials. The new apartments have attracted a lot of good families here. You’ll find everything you need: coffee, radios, kindness, and shishas. In fact, there’s enough available here to make God happy and angry in equal measure.”
“Heaven forbid we should make God angry!” Ahmad said with a laugh.
The boss stared hard at him, then carried on with his usual bluntness. It was as if he had known Ahmad for many years, not just a few minutes. “Pleasing God and angering Him are like night and day, inseparable from one other. Beyond them both lies God’s mercy and forgiveness. You’re not a Hanbali, are you?”
“Certainly not!”
“You surprise me!”
“But how can this quarter be big enough to cater to things that anger God?”
“Ah well, disaster always lurks, so they say, wherever people don’t pay attention. Just wait and make sure for yourself. But I have to say that whatever faults there maybe are not the fault of our quarter but of others. The corruption has spread so far that they can’t keep it within their own walls. They keep sending their excess over to us; and that’s exactly what the radio keeps telling us about world trade. Here we export primary goods and other quarters import them ready made. In some
Ahmad was aware that what the boss had said at first was intended to poke a bit of fun at him, even though it may not have been malicious. The rest of it obliged him to show some gratitude.
“Thank you, Boss,” he replied with a smile. “Prudent people have often told us that there is security to be found in the al-Husayn quarter.”
The other man took another huge puff and let out a cloud of thick smoke. “That’s true enough,” he said. “It’sa blessed and much loved quarter, much honored because of the person it’s named for. In days to come you’ll realize that from now on you won’t be able either to forget it or do without it. A deep-seated emotion will continually call you back. Here, take a puff from the shisha.”
Ahmad thanked him but declined. As he listened to his companion, he kept enjoying the sips of tea. Wanting to join his companion in a smoke, but of his own kind, he took out a cigarette and lit it with a smile. He felt very relaxed as he sat there talking to his new neighbor, probably because there was a strange quality about him, something he had never encountered in anyone before. His simplicity, frankness, and forceful presence, they all surprised him, but what was more important than any of those things was that Ahmad felt a sense of superiority that stroked his own tortured vanity. That impression made Ahmad want to get to know him better.
“Why don’t you like the shisha?” Boss Nunu asked. “It’s just like a cigarette except with water. The smoke’s filtered and purified. Beyond that, it conveys an aura of authority, and the gurgling sound it makes has a music of its own. And its very shape has sex appeal.”
Ahmad could not help laughing, but his laugh was drowned out by the ringing guffaws from the boss himself; they sounded like a continuous loud mooing and culminated in a burst of coughing that went on and on until he ran out of breath.
“Do you think we locals are stupid?” he asked Ahmad, his face still smiling. “Do you realize that English tourists come to visit this quarter in droves; many, many more than Arabs. But, in any case, by al-Husayn’s faith and God’s,may you find untold happiness in his quarter and may our relationship and your time here be a happy one too, in spite of whatever Hitler and Mussolini decide to do.”
“God willing, that will be so.”
“A number of distinguished government personnel like yourself live in the area,” the boss went on by way of encouragement.
“Oh Boss, please! I’m not that important.” Ahmad hurriedly replied.
“No, I swear by al-Husayn and his beloved grandfather, the Prophet himself. Most of my friends in the neighborhood are officials. The new apartments have attracted a lot of good families here. You’ll find everything you need: coffee, radios, kindness, and shishas. In fact, there’s enough available here to make God happy and angry in equal measure.”
“Heaven forbid we should make God angry!” Ahmad said with a laugh.
The boss stared hard at him, then carried on with his usual bluntness. It was as if he had known Ahmad for many years, not just a few minutes. “Pleasing God and angering Him are like night and day, inseparable from one other. Beyond them both lies God’s mercy and forgiveness. You’re not a Hanbali, are you?”
“Certainly not!”
“You surprise me!”
“But how can this quarter be big enough to cater to things that anger God?”
“Ah well, disaster always lurks, so they say, wherever people don’t pay attention. Just wait and make sure for yourself. But I have to say that whatever faults there maybe are not the fault of our quarter but of others. The corruption has spread so far that they can’t keep it within their own walls. They keep sending their excess over to us; and that’s exactly what the radio keeps telling us about world trade. Here we export primary goods and other quarters import them ready made. In some
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