Amylian
02-28-2009, 10:32 AM
Hello,
Well, I'd like you guys to check this chapter up and trade me with your thoughts. Hence the name "Letters of a Bahraini Slave Master," it is going to be changed soon so do not mind it. Moreover, the notes are colored in red.
“Letters of a Bahraini slave master”
“Chapter 1 – A prologue”
“Departure”
28th of Safar 1, 1534
“If poverty were a man, I would kill him” 2
We were tarnished by poverty after taking over Bahrain by the destructive sea forces of the Portuguese led by Commander Antonio Garreia in 1521. Their aggressive artillery and enormous warships were too heavy and too powerful for King Mugrin 3 to withstand, so his forces continued to fight helplessly until his death marked the end of war. My father used to tell me that he fought in that war and he witnessed the beheading of King Mugrin. “The grisly smell of death was everywhere, coming out of those dead, disfigured bodies,” he once said to me. “Injured I was at the time, and they took a pity on me so I was taken away to observe them beheading the King. I clearly remember his eyes as he waited for the moment where those fair eyes would not see the light again. Commander Antonio raised his sword and uttered foul words to the King, and struck him with all his might. The King’s head rolled over the ground and the sound of silence was so bizarre and somehow unbelievable. Only the cracking sound of the head and the drops of blood were heard. Then, a small of group of soldiers that belong in the frontline screamed “Allah Akbar”. But they tasted death as well, unfortunately.” However, my father died after five years later in 1526. The sea took a sip from his soul and begged him to stay in his depth, lost.
Since that war, the common people enjoyed bad luck and inconsistent support from the government, which is now controlled by the Portuguese as coruption still grips this land. Most of them were and are fishermen and pearls hunters. In which I have not spoken yet, it was the pearls hunters who suffered much as the industry’s most valuable money was shared between the government, the Portuguese commanding office, traders and merchants. Poor pearls hunters; they were the ones who suffered from persecution and imprisonment; many of them turned down many offers asked by the authorities for they knew they would gain nothing except little money.
Today, I have heard rumors that four ships are being hasty arranged for a voyage of discovery to the west. Out of curiosity, I took the liberty to go and have a look at Bandar Abbas 4. Ah! I have had a great deal of time today while riding on my horse on my way to the harbor. The scenes of those old temples that belong to the prehistorical period as I had read in many books and mosques, as well as the odor of the salty sea and the burned fronds of the palm trees burned in my mind, lingering to forge an unforgettable memory of the past. I used to fool around those places a lot with my friends, Uncle Ali Jaffar and my cousin Faisal Radhi. Now come to think of them, my Uncle Ali works with my grandfather, Jaffar Desmal. He helps him in his fishing trips. As for Faisal, he always locks himself up in his house, reading books about philosophers and geography and history. I think he wants to be a historian. He is such a knowledgable man, but he tends to be the most unintelligent person when it comes to numbers. Only my friend, Abdulla Ali, who is a genuis in Mathematics. I have heard he was going to be a ship engineers or something like that. Well, I still remember how hard it was on him to appreciate the works of literature such as the most valuble book to me, Odipus by Sophocles. Ah! I still remember how I hated Tiersias, the false prophet, which I used and still consider him be.
It was nearly noon when I arrived at the harbor, exhausted, but somehow satisfied. I got off of the back of the horse and alighted. It was noisy, but it is natural since it is a harbor where you can see many different people with many interesting languages. “isso é demasiado caro,”5 I heard a Portuguese man screaming loudly at a pearls merchant. I watched them both for a brief moment. The merchant looked disgusted and was about to explode. “Etha tebeehum, eshtar hum, Aw rooh wa Allah wiak.”6
I did not give them too much attention so I walked away. They probably killed each other by now. It is normal. Ah! The fragrant smell of fish is everywere coming out of those fishermen mixed with the scent of Persian Carpets . Not to mention the oriented fragrances from Turkia and the fruits and the bazaars that sell everything from books to eastern and northern clothes. It is so lively in here as if war did not happen. I was so happy when I felt peace, safe, that we can all live like this without any more wars over money or lands. We can trade with each others, help each others with everything from knowledge, medical treatments to festivals, too. But I am sure this is considered a childish dream, and rediculous.
I finally arrived at where the large Protugese-made ships floating. This is where departure marks the beginning. I wondered around and I have seen that the sailers were still working hard to finish what they had started. Some are fixing the shells of the ships and some arranging and repairing the bulkheads in case any catastrophe in the sea should happen, this would protect the ship from sinking as much as possible. Anyway, I climbed one the ships, the one in the middle, to check things a little, to get information about the proclaimed trip of exploration to the west. At the forefront of the ship, I glanced at an old man who had a hammer and knocking over and over. It seemed to me he was very tired as he always stop between now and then to take a break. I got closer to him and I was shocked; he was my grandfather,Hiji 7 Mohammad Desmal.
“Finally, It is nearly finished.” Said my grandfather, catching his breath and drying the sweat on his wrinkled forhead and bold, shinny head. His arms muscles seemed to be aching. He realized I was there, but I was pretending to look at the ship’s long pole.
“What brings you here my son?” He asked.
“Nothing more than just checking this astonishing ship.” I answered. Actually, I wanted to know whether or not the rumors about the exploration voyage to the west is true or not. That was what I really wanted to know.
“Say why you are here, tell me and leave,” with harsh tone he ordered me as if he was the Devil. “I have bussiness to take care of here.” I guess it is normal as all my family are fishermen and all of them are hard-tempered people.
“Is it true that these ships will set sail to explore the west?” I finally asked what I had wanted to ask from the beginning. I was happy, so I smiled.
“So, the rumors spread as fast as the wind. I wonder how the news reached Al- Muharraq .” 8
“Actually, I heard this rumor from my grandmother, Zahra.”
“To Jahannam 9 with you and your grandmother.” He cursed me and my grandmother. I stood laughing at the way he expressed his anger.
“This is it, go now.” He ordered me. Of all people, I think I know my grandfather more than anyone. I saw him sighing, which means he is worried.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied without thinking.
“Is there something that bothers you?”
“Ah, you are as presistent as your father once were. Go away.”
“Is this your way of saying you want to tell me?”
He laughed, but angirly.
“In fact, I am not at all feeling comfortable about this trip.”
“Why? What is wrong? I thought it is a rare apportunity to be part of such trip.”
“The ships are not ready for sail yet. We are still preparing the decks, the poles, and the helms. Sailing this noon would only bring disasters to them. The biggest hitch is that the King has decreed that the trip shall not be postponed and must be carried about.”
“And?” Not getting the full picture, I asked.
“Are you stupid? These ships might look strong, but there shall be no chance if any storm or wind came dancing. The ships will probably sink.”
“Why don’t you all protest?”
“Sixty-Seven sailors visited the office of the Knowkhatha 10 to let him know that it is impossible for these ships to sail. He refused and said that he received an order from his superiors that those complaints should be avoided and not to be considered at all.” Still knocking the hammar.
“Do not go , then.”
“Why not? I spent all my life in the sea and now when the sea himself calls, you want me to step back?”
“But father, you might face death?”
“Say nothing will happen to us except what Allah has decreed for us, ” He quoted from Al-Qura’an. 11
“But father, Fate sometimes betrays. Do not trust It.”
“I faced It countless times, and I knew It was trustworthy.”
“Haji Mohammad,” a voice behind my back echoed calling out to my grandfather. It was an old man waving his hands.
“What is it, Haji Hassan.” My grandfather grinned for a moment before he asked.
“The Knowkhatha is waiting in his chamber, he said that there is a meeting, come, quickly.” The old man was shouting.
“Ya Allah,” he stoof on his feet and addressed me. “Go home my son.”
“Where are YOU going?”
“Of course to the Knowkhatha’s chamber.”
“Say,” I was getting to ask him this particular question that overwhelmed me since I heard the rumors in our village. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I told you that we are going to explore the west, which has not been discovered yet according to our information.”
“What is IN the west?”
With a fierce look in his eyes, he replied: “Who knows,Humans maybe?”
“Humans?” I asked myself as he went on his way to the Knowkhatha’s chamber.
I got off the ship and then looked right and left as usual before I continue my next spot. Childern and women and men’s voices were all mixed together creating a symphony of chaos.
“I will go visit my cousin Fatima,” suddenly this strange idea came to my mind. Maybe because her home was closer from here than from my own home.
“Should I really go and see her?” I asked myself this question to make sure of my true intentions.
I would really love to go to see that pure body of hers and those conspicuous breasts made by Allah., which I like to steel the nipples from them. That venerated mouth and those eyes filled with Kohl 12 that enthrall lust I would desire to see one more time. I love her. But since that accident, I was prevented from seeing her again and it has been six long, lonely years. Her two brothers assulted me after discovering that I made love with her in this very room, where only I, the paper and the pen, and the tempestuous sea live. They all looked jealuous when me and her played together, naked, touching each other’s bodies, without those obscene clothes. Playing together with the virtuous clothing of exposure. Ah! I still dream of her bright, lovely face everyday.
Anyway, I waited a long time till noon so I can see those ships set sail and say goodbye to my grandfather. This noon was monochromatic,the sea was calm, and clouds prevented the eye of god in that far horizon in front of me.
“Come back safe Haji Ahmed.” Said an old woman to her husband. Her kids were looking directly at him.
“Do not cry; it is not meant to be for men,” he commented with a big smile on his brown face.
There was an old women wearing black clothes - Ubbaiah -, standing, and staring at the sea without moving. I approached her and asked : “What bothers you so much that you stare at the mighty sea without moving at all?”
She gave me a stir look and said: “It was my husband’s dream to travel with them on these ships, but the malignant disease took his life and prevented him from going. So, I have come here to gather some water from this sea and go back to his grave to water him.”
“This is strange,” I thought and then addressed her: “Hand over the pot and I will help you.”
“I don’t have a pot my son,” she replied. “I just gather the water by my two frail hands and when I go to visit his grave, only drops remains.”
“That is why you look so worn-out , you need help.”
“I am not tired, I am only afraid. That is why I am standing here, thinking about it.”
“What are you afraid of? The sea, well, I fear the sea,too.”
“No, I fear that one day this sea will turn to sand. If it does, how am I supposed to water my husband?”She looked so sad when she spoke.
“Do not feel bad, this sea would never turn into sand, it is impossible, Allah will prevent it.”
“You are still a young man, when I am dead and you are an old man, you will be surprised that you live beneath it.”
“Well, may Allah have mercy on your husband’s soul.”
“Thank you, my son.”
“I will go find a pot and help you carry some water to your husband after I am done saying goodbye to my grandfather.”
“Thank you, my son, and my Allah brings fortune upon you.”
“Wait here until I get back, mother 13.”
“Go, and may Allah let you come back safely.”
Grandfather was preparing for the trip and from the look of it, he apparently was nervous. It was so unlike him. I appraoched him, and greeted him.
“I hope you return to me safely,” I said.
“If Allah wills it,” replied he. He was wearing that old Wizar 14 and a white,torn shirt.
“And if you come back from the west, please, tell me all about it, I will always be waiting for you.”
Without a smile, he turned his face from me and offered me his back.
“Maybe, we will be waiting for you, instead.”
He climed the ship he was assigned to. I waved at him. The ships left and the people in the harbor were waving too.
Before going to the old woman I had gone to buy a pot for her. When I bought one, I got back and found her still staring fiercly at the sea.
“You are still staring at it,” I joked, but somehow it was not funny.
“I could not help it my son but to stare while you were gone,” she said, still sad.
“I brought you a pot, and I shall fill it with water.”
“May Allah bless you” she raised her both hands and prayed. “And marry you a girl that would provide you with happiness.”
“I hope so,” I laughed.
I filled the pot with water and walked with her to her husband’s grave. Ah! It has been a long time since I visited the cemetery. It still looks old with those crumbling walls and the badly-arranged graves. It can be so hard if you miss a month not visiting to find the grave of any of your relatives. In fact, I lost my mother, and brothers’ graves. Shame on me. Shame on me.
Silence was present, but Surat Al Fatiha from the Holy Quran was being read by many people in a sad tone. I stood by the grave of the old woman’s husband and read in low, unheard voice Surat Al Fatiha.
“Let me quench his thirst,” she said.
I handed her the pot. She filled the grave with water. The basils 15 were all over the grave and they appeared to be not in a corrupted state but rather fresh. This woman probably have come this morning plenty of times to decorate his grave.
“Do you feel well now?” I asked to make sure she was fine.
She cried.
I apologized and walked towards my lonely room, where the pen I am writing with, and the papers I am writing on, waiting for me. It is evening now and the muezzin started to call for prayer as everyone was heading towards the mosque except me. 16
I always wanted to explore the vast blue sea surrounding us just like my father who died in the sea. His body never had been found and he was lost in the depth of the mysterious world of the sea. Since then, I locked myself up in this room with this paper and pen. I became afraid of the sea, to be in the midst of the sea. I can only see it from here, from my window, beating the rocks as hard as he can. No matter how hard I think about it, In this land, the land of immortality, man has become valnurable to death, and in the sea, the pure sea of the gulf, man has become lost. I lost everything, my mother, my father, my brothers. It is only me now, me and the pen and the paper. In the case of this evening, when I am looking at the stars, I see them laughing, insulting me. What is wrong with me anyway? I will always sit by this pen’s side and those papers as well and let everyone makes fun of me, laughs at me, insults me. I do not care. If my dreams are going to be fulfilled by this pen, then words of the night take me.
Notes:
1-It is the name of an Arabic Month. It is Febury. It is spelled either “Safar” or “Sufir”. Two theories regarding this month is that the Pagan Arabs used to leave their houses empty (Zero) when they went on “looting expeditions”. Moreover, “Sufir” is also “yellow” and it is referred to Autmn where the leaves of trees turn yellow and scatter all over the ground. It is considered to be the one of the Unluckiest Months as in this month in the 28th, it is said that Imam Hussan, The Shia’s Imam, was martyred.
2- A proverb that is believed to have been said by Ali Bin Abi Talib.
3-Muqrin ibn Zamil is the ruler of Bahrain during the 16th century. He was captured and beheaded in battle but later his bleeding head was depicted on Antonio’s coat of arms.
4- Bandar Abbas has many various functional names. It is the name of a harbor located in the south of Persia in the Arabic Gulf (Persian Gulf) and is the capital of Hormozgān Province that belonged to Persia. Arabic and Persian languages were the most dominant.
5- “It is too expensive.” I later asked many men about this sentence and I finally knew what it means.
6- “if you want them, buy them, if not, may Allah be with you.” Which means “Leave.”
7- Hiji is an islamic honorfic name called for those who are eirther very old as it is considered respectful or for those who visited Mecca, and spend too much time in their travel. It is equivelend to “Piligram”
8- Muharraq (Arabic: المحرق) (meaning Place of Ashes), is Bahrain's second largest city.
9- Jahannam is the equivelant to Hell.
10- Knowkhatha (Arabic: (نوخذة is the equivelant to “Captin”. It is reffered to those who has so much knowledge about the way of the sea.
11- This is Surat Al Tauba (Repentance) Aya No. 51 from The Holy Quran.
12- Kohl is a mixture of soot and other ingredients used predominantly by Middle Eastern, African and South Asian women, and to a lesser extent men, to darken the eyelids and as mascara for the eyelashes.
13- It is out of respect to address old women as “mother” in Arabs culture.
14- Wizar (Pronounced Ozaarr/ Arabic: وزار); it is an old style clothing used by sailors where they wrapped it around their waste and tie it. They find it comfortable (Author’s Note)
15- In the Arabic Gulf, it is called “Mashmoom”. Arabs used to include it in their poetry, that is, for its lovely scent that purify the soul.
16- For a man to pray in his house is Certainly unacceptable. It is said that it brings misfortune. However, only women are allowed to pray in their homes. (Author’s Note)
I really hope to get some feedbacks...
Regards,
Amylian AKA Ali Makki
Well, I'd like you guys to check this chapter up and trade me with your thoughts. Hence the name "Letters of a Bahraini Slave Master," it is going to be changed soon so do not mind it. Moreover, the notes are colored in red.
“Letters of a Bahraini slave master”
“Chapter 1 – A prologue”
“Departure”
28th of Safar 1, 1534
“If poverty were a man, I would kill him” 2
We were tarnished by poverty after taking over Bahrain by the destructive sea forces of the Portuguese led by Commander Antonio Garreia in 1521. Their aggressive artillery and enormous warships were too heavy and too powerful for King Mugrin 3 to withstand, so his forces continued to fight helplessly until his death marked the end of war. My father used to tell me that he fought in that war and he witnessed the beheading of King Mugrin. “The grisly smell of death was everywhere, coming out of those dead, disfigured bodies,” he once said to me. “Injured I was at the time, and they took a pity on me so I was taken away to observe them beheading the King. I clearly remember his eyes as he waited for the moment where those fair eyes would not see the light again. Commander Antonio raised his sword and uttered foul words to the King, and struck him with all his might. The King’s head rolled over the ground and the sound of silence was so bizarre and somehow unbelievable. Only the cracking sound of the head and the drops of blood were heard. Then, a small of group of soldiers that belong in the frontline screamed “Allah Akbar”. But they tasted death as well, unfortunately.” However, my father died after five years later in 1526. The sea took a sip from his soul and begged him to stay in his depth, lost.
Since that war, the common people enjoyed bad luck and inconsistent support from the government, which is now controlled by the Portuguese as coruption still grips this land. Most of them were and are fishermen and pearls hunters. In which I have not spoken yet, it was the pearls hunters who suffered much as the industry’s most valuable money was shared between the government, the Portuguese commanding office, traders and merchants. Poor pearls hunters; they were the ones who suffered from persecution and imprisonment; many of them turned down many offers asked by the authorities for they knew they would gain nothing except little money.
Today, I have heard rumors that four ships are being hasty arranged for a voyage of discovery to the west. Out of curiosity, I took the liberty to go and have a look at Bandar Abbas 4. Ah! I have had a great deal of time today while riding on my horse on my way to the harbor. The scenes of those old temples that belong to the prehistorical period as I had read in many books and mosques, as well as the odor of the salty sea and the burned fronds of the palm trees burned in my mind, lingering to forge an unforgettable memory of the past. I used to fool around those places a lot with my friends, Uncle Ali Jaffar and my cousin Faisal Radhi. Now come to think of them, my Uncle Ali works with my grandfather, Jaffar Desmal. He helps him in his fishing trips. As for Faisal, he always locks himself up in his house, reading books about philosophers and geography and history. I think he wants to be a historian. He is such a knowledgable man, but he tends to be the most unintelligent person when it comes to numbers. Only my friend, Abdulla Ali, who is a genuis in Mathematics. I have heard he was going to be a ship engineers or something like that. Well, I still remember how hard it was on him to appreciate the works of literature such as the most valuble book to me, Odipus by Sophocles. Ah! I still remember how I hated Tiersias, the false prophet, which I used and still consider him be.
It was nearly noon when I arrived at the harbor, exhausted, but somehow satisfied. I got off of the back of the horse and alighted. It was noisy, but it is natural since it is a harbor where you can see many different people with many interesting languages. “isso é demasiado caro,”5 I heard a Portuguese man screaming loudly at a pearls merchant. I watched them both for a brief moment. The merchant looked disgusted and was about to explode. “Etha tebeehum, eshtar hum, Aw rooh wa Allah wiak.”6
I did not give them too much attention so I walked away. They probably killed each other by now. It is normal. Ah! The fragrant smell of fish is everywere coming out of those fishermen mixed with the scent of Persian Carpets . Not to mention the oriented fragrances from Turkia and the fruits and the bazaars that sell everything from books to eastern and northern clothes. It is so lively in here as if war did not happen. I was so happy when I felt peace, safe, that we can all live like this without any more wars over money or lands. We can trade with each others, help each others with everything from knowledge, medical treatments to festivals, too. But I am sure this is considered a childish dream, and rediculous.
I finally arrived at where the large Protugese-made ships floating. This is where departure marks the beginning. I wondered around and I have seen that the sailers were still working hard to finish what they had started. Some are fixing the shells of the ships and some arranging and repairing the bulkheads in case any catastrophe in the sea should happen, this would protect the ship from sinking as much as possible. Anyway, I climbed one the ships, the one in the middle, to check things a little, to get information about the proclaimed trip of exploration to the west. At the forefront of the ship, I glanced at an old man who had a hammer and knocking over and over. It seemed to me he was very tired as he always stop between now and then to take a break. I got closer to him and I was shocked; he was my grandfather,Hiji 7 Mohammad Desmal.
“Finally, It is nearly finished.” Said my grandfather, catching his breath and drying the sweat on his wrinkled forhead and bold, shinny head. His arms muscles seemed to be aching. He realized I was there, but I was pretending to look at the ship’s long pole.
“What brings you here my son?” He asked.
“Nothing more than just checking this astonishing ship.” I answered. Actually, I wanted to know whether or not the rumors about the exploration voyage to the west is true or not. That was what I really wanted to know.
“Say why you are here, tell me and leave,” with harsh tone he ordered me as if he was the Devil. “I have bussiness to take care of here.” I guess it is normal as all my family are fishermen and all of them are hard-tempered people.
“Is it true that these ships will set sail to explore the west?” I finally asked what I had wanted to ask from the beginning. I was happy, so I smiled.
“So, the rumors spread as fast as the wind. I wonder how the news reached Al- Muharraq .” 8
“Actually, I heard this rumor from my grandmother, Zahra.”
“To Jahannam 9 with you and your grandmother.” He cursed me and my grandmother. I stood laughing at the way he expressed his anger.
“This is it, go now.” He ordered me. Of all people, I think I know my grandfather more than anyone. I saw him sighing, which means he is worried.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied without thinking.
“Is there something that bothers you?”
“Ah, you are as presistent as your father once were. Go away.”
“Is this your way of saying you want to tell me?”
He laughed, but angirly.
“In fact, I am not at all feeling comfortable about this trip.”
“Why? What is wrong? I thought it is a rare apportunity to be part of such trip.”
“The ships are not ready for sail yet. We are still preparing the decks, the poles, and the helms. Sailing this noon would only bring disasters to them. The biggest hitch is that the King has decreed that the trip shall not be postponed and must be carried about.”
“And?” Not getting the full picture, I asked.
“Are you stupid? These ships might look strong, but there shall be no chance if any storm or wind came dancing. The ships will probably sink.”
“Why don’t you all protest?”
“Sixty-Seven sailors visited the office of the Knowkhatha 10 to let him know that it is impossible for these ships to sail. He refused and said that he received an order from his superiors that those complaints should be avoided and not to be considered at all.” Still knocking the hammar.
“Do not go , then.”
“Why not? I spent all my life in the sea and now when the sea himself calls, you want me to step back?”
“But father, you might face death?”
“Say nothing will happen to us except what Allah has decreed for us, ” He quoted from Al-Qura’an. 11
“But father, Fate sometimes betrays. Do not trust It.”
“I faced It countless times, and I knew It was trustworthy.”
“Haji Mohammad,” a voice behind my back echoed calling out to my grandfather. It was an old man waving his hands.
“What is it, Haji Hassan.” My grandfather grinned for a moment before he asked.
“The Knowkhatha is waiting in his chamber, he said that there is a meeting, come, quickly.” The old man was shouting.
“Ya Allah,” he stoof on his feet and addressed me. “Go home my son.”
“Where are YOU going?”
“Of course to the Knowkhatha’s chamber.”
“Say,” I was getting to ask him this particular question that overwhelmed me since I heard the rumors in our village. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I told you that we are going to explore the west, which has not been discovered yet according to our information.”
“What is IN the west?”
With a fierce look in his eyes, he replied: “Who knows,Humans maybe?”
“Humans?” I asked myself as he went on his way to the Knowkhatha’s chamber.
I got off the ship and then looked right and left as usual before I continue my next spot. Childern and women and men’s voices were all mixed together creating a symphony of chaos.
“I will go visit my cousin Fatima,” suddenly this strange idea came to my mind. Maybe because her home was closer from here than from my own home.
“Should I really go and see her?” I asked myself this question to make sure of my true intentions.
I would really love to go to see that pure body of hers and those conspicuous breasts made by Allah., which I like to steel the nipples from them. That venerated mouth and those eyes filled with Kohl 12 that enthrall lust I would desire to see one more time. I love her. But since that accident, I was prevented from seeing her again and it has been six long, lonely years. Her two brothers assulted me after discovering that I made love with her in this very room, where only I, the paper and the pen, and the tempestuous sea live. They all looked jealuous when me and her played together, naked, touching each other’s bodies, without those obscene clothes. Playing together with the virtuous clothing of exposure. Ah! I still dream of her bright, lovely face everyday.
Anyway, I waited a long time till noon so I can see those ships set sail and say goodbye to my grandfather. This noon was monochromatic,the sea was calm, and clouds prevented the eye of god in that far horizon in front of me.
“Come back safe Haji Ahmed.” Said an old woman to her husband. Her kids were looking directly at him.
“Do not cry; it is not meant to be for men,” he commented with a big smile on his brown face.
There was an old women wearing black clothes - Ubbaiah -, standing, and staring at the sea without moving. I approached her and asked : “What bothers you so much that you stare at the mighty sea without moving at all?”
She gave me a stir look and said: “It was my husband’s dream to travel with them on these ships, but the malignant disease took his life and prevented him from going. So, I have come here to gather some water from this sea and go back to his grave to water him.”
“This is strange,” I thought and then addressed her: “Hand over the pot and I will help you.”
“I don’t have a pot my son,” she replied. “I just gather the water by my two frail hands and when I go to visit his grave, only drops remains.”
“That is why you look so worn-out , you need help.”
“I am not tired, I am only afraid. That is why I am standing here, thinking about it.”
“What are you afraid of? The sea, well, I fear the sea,too.”
“No, I fear that one day this sea will turn to sand. If it does, how am I supposed to water my husband?”She looked so sad when she spoke.
“Do not feel bad, this sea would never turn into sand, it is impossible, Allah will prevent it.”
“You are still a young man, when I am dead and you are an old man, you will be surprised that you live beneath it.”
“Well, may Allah have mercy on your husband’s soul.”
“Thank you, my son.”
“I will go find a pot and help you carry some water to your husband after I am done saying goodbye to my grandfather.”
“Thank you, my son, and my Allah brings fortune upon you.”
“Wait here until I get back, mother 13.”
“Go, and may Allah let you come back safely.”
Grandfather was preparing for the trip and from the look of it, he apparently was nervous. It was so unlike him. I appraoched him, and greeted him.
“I hope you return to me safely,” I said.
“If Allah wills it,” replied he. He was wearing that old Wizar 14 and a white,torn shirt.
“And if you come back from the west, please, tell me all about it, I will always be waiting for you.”
Without a smile, he turned his face from me and offered me his back.
“Maybe, we will be waiting for you, instead.”
He climed the ship he was assigned to. I waved at him. The ships left and the people in the harbor were waving too.
Before going to the old woman I had gone to buy a pot for her. When I bought one, I got back and found her still staring fiercly at the sea.
“You are still staring at it,” I joked, but somehow it was not funny.
“I could not help it my son but to stare while you were gone,” she said, still sad.
“I brought you a pot, and I shall fill it with water.”
“May Allah bless you” she raised her both hands and prayed. “And marry you a girl that would provide you with happiness.”
“I hope so,” I laughed.
I filled the pot with water and walked with her to her husband’s grave. Ah! It has been a long time since I visited the cemetery. It still looks old with those crumbling walls and the badly-arranged graves. It can be so hard if you miss a month not visiting to find the grave of any of your relatives. In fact, I lost my mother, and brothers’ graves. Shame on me. Shame on me.
Silence was present, but Surat Al Fatiha from the Holy Quran was being read by many people in a sad tone. I stood by the grave of the old woman’s husband and read in low, unheard voice Surat Al Fatiha.
“Let me quench his thirst,” she said.
I handed her the pot. She filled the grave with water. The basils 15 were all over the grave and they appeared to be not in a corrupted state but rather fresh. This woman probably have come this morning plenty of times to decorate his grave.
“Do you feel well now?” I asked to make sure she was fine.
She cried.
I apologized and walked towards my lonely room, where the pen I am writing with, and the papers I am writing on, waiting for me. It is evening now and the muezzin started to call for prayer as everyone was heading towards the mosque except me. 16
I always wanted to explore the vast blue sea surrounding us just like my father who died in the sea. His body never had been found and he was lost in the depth of the mysterious world of the sea. Since then, I locked myself up in this room with this paper and pen. I became afraid of the sea, to be in the midst of the sea. I can only see it from here, from my window, beating the rocks as hard as he can. No matter how hard I think about it, In this land, the land of immortality, man has become valnurable to death, and in the sea, the pure sea of the gulf, man has become lost. I lost everything, my mother, my father, my brothers. It is only me now, me and the pen and the paper. In the case of this evening, when I am looking at the stars, I see them laughing, insulting me. What is wrong with me anyway? I will always sit by this pen’s side and those papers as well and let everyone makes fun of me, laughs at me, insults me. I do not care. If my dreams are going to be fulfilled by this pen, then words of the night take me.
Notes:
1-It is the name of an Arabic Month. It is Febury. It is spelled either “Safar” or “Sufir”. Two theories regarding this month is that the Pagan Arabs used to leave their houses empty (Zero) when they went on “looting expeditions”. Moreover, “Sufir” is also “yellow” and it is referred to Autmn where the leaves of trees turn yellow and scatter all over the ground. It is considered to be the one of the Unluckiest Months as in this month in the 28th, it is said that Imam Hussan, The Shia’s Imam, was martyred.
2- A proverb that is believed to have been said by Ali Bin Abi Talib.
3-Muqrin ibn Zamil is the ruler of Bahrain during the 16th century. He was captured and beheaded in battle but later his bleeding head was depicted on Antonio’s coat of arms.
4- Bandar Abbas has many various functional names. It is the name of a harbor located in the south of Persia in the Arabic Gulf (Persian Gulf) and is the capital of Hormozgān Province that belonged to Persia. Arabic and Persian languages were the most dominant.
5- “It is too expensive.” I later asked many men about this sentence and I finally knew what it means.
6- “if you want them, buy them, if not, may Allah be with you.” Which means “Leave.”
7- Hiji is an islamic honorfic name called for those who are eirther very old as it is considered respectful or for those who visited Mecca, and spend too much time in their travel. It is equivelend to “Piligram”
8- Muharraq (Arabic: المحرق) (meaning Place of Ashes), is Bahrain's second largest city.
9- Jahannam is the equivelant to Hell.
10- Knowkhatha (Arabic: (نوخذة is the equivelant to “Captin”. It is reffered to those who has so much knowledge about the way of the sea.
11- This is Surat Al Tauba (Repentance) Aya No. 51 from The Holy Quran.
12- Kohl is a mixture of soot and other ingredients used predominantly by Middle Eastern, African and South Asian women, and to a lesser extent men, to darken the eyelids and as mascara for the eyelashes.
13- It is out of respect to address old women as “mother” in Arabs culture.
14- Wizar (Pronounced Ozaarr/ Arabic: وزار); it is an old style clothing used by sailors where they wrapped it around their waste and tie it. They find it comfortable (Author’s Note)
15- In the Arabic Gulf, it is called “Mashmoom”. Arabs used to include it in their poetry, that is, for its lovely scent that purify the soul.
16- For a man to pray in his house is Certainly unacceptable. It is said that it brings misfortune. However, only women are allowed to pray in their homes. (Author’s Note)
I really hope to get some feedbacks...
Regards,
Amylian AKA Ali Makki