Read Online The Day the Leader Was Killed by Naguib Mahfouz - Free Book Online
Authors: Naguib Mahfouz
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it!” I said sharply—the first sharp words uttered during our honeymoon.
“The sooner, the better,” he said with a smile.
Biting sarcasm. I felt that my experience was rapidly proving to be a failure. I found myself amid men who were drinking, laughing boisterously, leaping to break all boundaries. I could hear a dirty joke now and felt a wave of irritation and anger surging up within me.
“Enough!” I said coldly.
They looked at me gloomily.
“Enough drinking!” I said roughly.
“Were we being impolite?” asked one of them.
“It seems so!” I answered coldly.
“Is this an indication that we should leave?”
“Definitely!” I said, growing angrier.
I was in the sorriest of states as I stood waiting, tormented by misgivings and apprehensions. When he returned around midnight, he turned pale as soon as he set eyes on me, and asked:
“Is everything fine?”
“Absolutely not. This is a house, not a bar.”
“What happened?”
“In a word, I threw them out. Interpret it as you wish.”
He sank silently into the seat facing me. Following a period of silence, he muttered:
“A great structure has just collapsed.”
“On top of a handful of bastards,” I shrieked.
“A disappointment.”
“Don’t you want to understand?” I asked, highly incensed.
“I thought you understood things better,” he said in an irritatingly calm tone.
“Actually, I don’t understand you. You’re a strange person,” I continued.
And, again, with his irritating calmness, he added:
“It’s simply a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
“I mean a misjudgment on my part.”
“You are indeed a vile person!” I shrieked.
With a wave of his hand, he indicated that I should control myself and then continued:
“No, no, no need to bring up this subject. I’ve lived a lifetime without getting angry.”
“This speaks for you.”
“Calm down. There’s been a mistake and it can be corrected.”
“I’m going,” I said insistently.
“Why the hurry? Wait until morning.”
“I shall not remain in this house a minute longer!”
“Do what you please, but no need to get angry,” he said, giving up on me.
Muhtashimi Zayed
H
e loves not the evildoers
. What is this decree all about? You declare a revolution on May 5 and then annul it on September 5? You throw all sorts of Egyptians into prison—Muslims, Copts, party men, and intellectuals? Only the opportunists are on the loose. God help you, Egypt!
And whosoever is blind in this world shall be blind in the world to come, and he shall be even further astray from the way
.
I remember the day Saad Zaghloul was placed under house arrest in Bayt al-Umma and the opportunists started crawling toward the Palace in a show of affected loyalty. Why are you replaying that old drama that looms large in the repertoire of Egyptian tragedies? I remember the dark days of oppression. Was 1919 then a dream or a myth? (Might does not make right. The mighty are those who can, when incensed, exert self-control.) Iwonder what the morrow has in store for us? As for me, I lost my closest and very last friend yesterday. Our friendship lasted seventy-five years, ever since we first set foot in primary school. Were it not for old age and poor means of transport … Oh! I insisted on attending the funeral services, a painful journey like the pilgrimage. I leaned on Elwan. Later, during the condolence services, I recalled old memories: school, the street, the café, the pub, student committees, weddings, birthdays. That face and that smile. Have you heard the latest? Complaints about the hardships of life. We saw eye to eye about everything except football: are you for the Zamalek team or the National team? Drink a glass of water on an empty stomach. Don’t forget the medicine for the memory. I missed your comments on September 5, but I know exactly what you would have said. The Quranic recitation begins:
Every soul shall taste of death
.
Soon death came
“The sooner, the better,” he said with a smile.
Biting sarcasm. I felt that my experience was rapidly proving to be a failure. I found myself amid men who were drinking, laughing boisterously, leaping to break all boundaries. I could hear a dirty joke now and felt a wave of irritation and anger surging up within me.
“Enough!” I said coldly.
They looked at me gloomily.
“Enough drinking!” I said roughly.
“Were we being impolite?” asked one of them.
“It seems so!” I answered coldly.
“Is this an indication that we should leave?”
“Definitely!” I said, growing angrier.
I was in the sorriest of states as I stood waiting, tormented by misgivings and apprehensions. When he returned around midnight, he turned pale as soon as he set eyes on me, and asked:
“Is everything fine?”
“Absolutely not. This is a house, not a bar.”
“What happened?”
“In a word, I threw them out. Interpret it as you wish.”
He sank silently into the seat facing me. Following a period of silence, he muttered:
“A great structure has just collapsed.”
“On top of a handful of bastards,” I shrieked.
“A disappointment.”
“Don’t you want to understand?” I asked, highly incensed.
“I thought you understood things better,” he said in an irritatingly calm tone.
“Actually, I don’t understand you. You’re a strange person,” I continued.
And, again, with his irritating calmness, he added:
“It’s simply a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
“I mean a misjudgment on my part.”
“You are indeed a vile person!” I shrieked.
With a wave of his hand, he indicated that I should control myself and then continued:
“No, no, no need to bring up this subject. I’ve lived a lifetime without getting angry.”
“This speaks for you.”
“Calm down. There’s been a mistake and it can be corrected.”
“I’m going,” I said insistently.
“Why the hurry? Wait until morning.”
“I shall not remain in this house a minute longer!”
“Do what you please, but no need to get angry,” he said, giving up on me.
Muhtashimi Zayed
H
e loves not the evildoers
. What is this decree all about? You declare a revolution on May 5 and then annul it on September 5? You throw all sorts of Egyptians into prison—Muslims, Copts, party men, and intellectuals? Only the opportunists are on the loose. God help you, Egypt!
And whosoever is blind in this world shall be blind in the world to come, and he shall be even further astray from the way
.
I remember the day Saad Zaghloul was placed under house arrest in Bayt al-Umma and the opportunists started crawling toward the Palace in a show of affected loyalty. Why are you replaying that old drama that looms large in the repertoire of Egyptian tragedies? I remember the dark days of oppression. Was 1919 then a dream or a myth? (Might does not make right. The mighty are those who can, when incensed, exert self-control.) Iwonder what the morrow has in store for us? As for me, I lost my closest and very last friend yesterday. Our friendship lasted seventy-five years, ever since we first set foot in primary school. Were it not for old age and poor means of transport … Oh! I insisted on attending the funeral services, a painful journey like the pilgrimage. I leaned on Elwan. Later, during the condolence services, I recalled old memories: school, the street, the café, the pub, student committees, weddings, birthdays. That face and that smile. Have you heard the latest? Complaints about the hardships of life. We saw eye to eye about everything except football: are you for the Zamalek team or the National team? Drink a glass of water on an empty stomach. Don’t forget the medicine for the memory. I missed your comments on September 5, but I know exactly what you would have said. The Quranic recitation begins:
Every soul shall taste of death
.
Soon death came
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