sterile puzzles, like the will in Schopenhauer, the absolute in Hegel, or the elan vital in Bergson. Life as a whole was inanimate and unimportant. 'See how a glance, a gesture, or a smile can make the earth tremble today?'
This significant encounter had taken place shortly before 5 p m as he was cutting through al-Urman Gardens on his way to the Arts Faculty. He had suddenly found himself being observed by Budur and three other girls, who were waiting on a bench until time for class. His eyes had met Budur's as memorably as in the classroom. He had wanted to greet the girls when he drew closer to them, but the path had veered away, as if refusing to participate in this improvised romantic plot. When he had gone a short distance beyond them, he had looked back and seen that the other girls were smiling and whispering to Budur, whose head was resting in her hand, as if to hide her face.
What washe to make of this exquisite scene? If Riyad had been there, he would have been able to describe and analyze it perfectly. But Kamal had no need for his friend's professional skills. They were surely whispering to her about him, and she had hidden her face in embarrassment. Was any other explanation possible? In the words of a popular song, 'Had his eyes revealed his love?' Perhapshe had unwittingly gone too far and made himself the target of gossip. Where would he be if the whispering graduated into insinuating remarks voiced by fiendish male students?
He had seriously considered ending his visits to the Arts Faculty, but that evening he found her sitting next to him on a streetcar bound for al-Abbasiya. The only time this had happened before had been the very first night. He waited for her to look his way so he could greet her, no matter what that led to, but when he felt the waiting had lasted a bit too long, he turned to glance at her himself. Affecting surprise at seeing her seated beside him, he whispered politely, 'Good evening.'
He had no memory of A'ida ever employing any feminine wiles, but Budur glanced at him as if she too was astonished and then whispered, 'Good evening.'
Two colleagues had exchanged greetings. There was nothing objectionable about this. He had not been so bold with her sister, but A'ida had been his senior. He had been the young innocent.
'I believe you're from al-Abbasiya?'
'Yes '
'She's not going to take an active role in this conversation,' he reflected.
'Unfortunately I missed most of the lectures, since I started to attend so late.'
'Yes.'
'I hope that in the future I can make up what I missed.'
Her only response was a smile. 'Let me hear your voice some more,' he begged silently. 'It's the one bygone melody that time has not altered.'
'What do you plan to do once you have your degree? Study at the Teacher Training Institute?'
Displaying some enthusiasm about the conversation for the first time, she answered, 'I won't have to go on for further training since the Ministry of Education needs teachers in view of wartime conditions and the expansion of the school system.'
He bad craved a single tune but had been granted an entire song.
'So you're going to be a teacher!'
'Yes. Why not?'
'It's a hard profession. Ask me about it.'
'I've heard that you teach.'
'Yes. Oh! I forgot to introduce myself: Kamal Ahmad Abd al-Jawad.'
'I'm honored.'
Smiling, he observed, 'But I haven't had the honor yet.'
'Budur Abd al-Hamid Shaddad.'
'The honor's all mine, miss'. Then he added, as if astonished by something, 'Abd al-Hamid Shaddad! From al-Abbasiya? Are you the sister of Husayn Shaddad?'
Her eyes gleamed with interest as she replied, 'Yes.'
Kamal laughed as if amazed at the odd coincidence and exclaimed, 'Merciful heavens! He was my dearest friend. We spent an extremely happy time together. My Lord are you the little sister who used to play in the garden?'
She cast an inquiring look at him. It was absurd to think that she would remember him. 'Back then you were as wild about me as I was about your sister.'
'Of course, I don't recollect any ofthat.'
'Naturally. This story goes back to 1923 and continues to 1926, the year Husayn left for Europe. What ishe doing now?'
'He's in the South of France, in the area to which the French government retreated following the German occupation.'
'How ishe? I haven't had any news or letters from him for a long time.'
'He's fine…'. Her tone indicated that she did not wish to pursue this subject any further.
As the streetcar passed the site of her former mansion, Kamal wondered whether it had been a mistake to mention his friendship with her brother. Would that not limit his freedom to continue what he had begun? When they reached the stop beyond the Wayliya police station, she said goodbye and left the streetcar. He stayed put, as if oblivious to his own existence. Throughout the ride he had examined her at every opportunity in hopes of detecting the secret quality that had once enchanted him. But he had not discovered it, however close he might have been on several occasions.
She seemed charming, meek, and within his grasp. He now felt a mysterious disappointment and a sorrow that had no discernible causes. If he should wish to marry this girl, no serious obstacles would bar his way. In fact, she seemed responsive and receptive, in spite of or because of the appreciable age difference between them. Experience had taught him that his looks would not prevent him from marrying if he chose to. If he married Budur, he would willy-nilly become a member of Ai'da's family. But what substance was there to this ludicrous dream? And what was Aida to him now? The truth was that he no longer wanted Aida. But he still wished to learn her secret, which might at least convince him that the best years of his life had not been wasted. He was conscious of the desire, which he had frequently experienced during his life, to look again at his diary and at the candy box presented to him at Afda's wedding reception. Then his breast filled with so much longing that he wondered whether a man with a thorough understanding of the biological, societal, and psychological components of human affection could still fall in love. But did a chemist's knowledge of poisons prevent him from succumbing to them like any other victim? Why was his breast so agitated by emotions? Despite the disappointment he had experienced, despite the vast difference between then and now, despite the fact that he did not know whether he belonged to the past or to the present — all these considerations notwithstanding — his breast churned and his heart pounded.
158
Here at the tea garden, boughs and verdant branches formed the roof, and a duck could be seen swimming in an emerald pool with a grotto behind it. Employees of The New Man magazine had the day off, and Sawsan Hammad looked stunning in a lightweight blue dress that revealed her brown arms. Discreetly and cautiously, she had begun using cosmetics. The two had been colleagues for a year, and as they sat across from each other a smile of mutual understanding lit up their faces. On the table between them stood a water carafe and two ice-cream dishes containing only a milky residue colored pink by strawberries.
'She's dearer to me than anything else in the world,' he thought. 'I owe her all my happiness. All my hopes are pinned on her. We are devoted partners. We have never openly agreed to be in love, but I have no doubt that we are. Our cooperation is perfectly harmonious. We began as comrades in the struggle for freedom, working together like one person each of us a candidate for incarceration. Whenever I praise her beauty, she stares at me in protest, frowns, and reprimands me as if love were beneath us. Then I smile and return to the work at hand. One day I told her, love you! 1 love you! Do whatever you want about it.' She replied, 'Life's an extremely serious matter, but you wish to treat it as a joke.' I said, 'Like you, I think that capitalism is in its death throes, that it has served its purpose, that the working class has a duty to exert its will to guide the process of development since the
