Heart of the Night by Naguib Mahfouz Read Free Book Online

in their homes provide wonderful opportunities for interaction. All you have to do is change your religious clothes in my house before you go there.’
    “I laughed and refused all solutions with pride and dignity. I was happy to endure my pain and overcome it, saying to myself, ‘Blessings be upon me. I defeat Satan at least once a day. I am truly worthy of my chaste future.’
    “I turned my attention to other matters, and asked Bahga for the first time about my grandmother: ‘When did she die?’
    “‘May her soul rest in peace,’ she said, ‘she died almost twenty years ago.’
    “‘Did my father’s tragedy have anything to do with her death?’
    “‘Only God decides a person’s death.’
    “‘Why didn’t my grandfather remarry after her death?’ I asked.
    “‘That’s his business.’
    “I wondered about my grandfather’s sexual life, but shivered at the strangeness of the idea. I said to myself that, as usual, he would read my thoughts in my eyes and a new tragedy would occur. I thought that part of me was pursuing my grandfather with an inclination for revenge. This meant that my love for him was not whole, but was tainted by my inability to completely forget my father’s tragedy. I persisted with my questions to Bahga, until she admitted that my mother had been the daughter of a peddler who frequently visited the house. I asked if she was a woman of ill repute, which she denied, saying, ‘Your grandfather does not acknowledge anonymous people!’
    “I was resentful, and objected: ‘But all people, with very few exceptions, are anonymous. He dreams of a world filled with “divine beings,” as he says, but isn’t he aware of the cruelty of his dream?’
    “I decided to fast during the three months of Rajab, Shaaban, and Ramadan every year. My life was one of endeavor, diligence, and purity, followed closely and attentively by my grandfather. He would often say to me, ‘God’s will is great.’”

5
    I was walking with Muhammad Shakroun at the edge of al-Darrasa when we encountered a herd of sheep led by two women. When we stepped aside to let them pass, I was able to see the women up close, most probably a mother and a daughter, very much alike. The daughter wore a long belted black dress, was draped in a black shawl, and had on a loose burqa that revealed her eyes. She was barefoot and held a spindle.”
    Jaafar fell silent for a long time.
    “What happened?” I asked.
    He turned toward me and said, “I, too, wonder what happened.”
    “What do you mean?”
    He went on: “To sum it up, I looked at the girl’s eyes and was struck by a state of total madness. But let’s leave this for the time being and discuss it later. I will tell you now what happened. I felt I had died and that a new person was born through me. You will even agree with me that it was a new person in the full meaning of the word, a person with no connection to the one who had just died, a drunkard whose heart overflowed with passion and who had an extraordinary capacity for defiance and struggle. I heard Muhammad Shakroun say, ‘When will you resume walking?’ He then examined me closely and smiling, said, ‘It must be the shepherdess!’
    “‘It’s fate,’ I replied.
    “‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
    “‘We must find out where she lives.’
    “‘Fine,’ said Shakroun, ‘but remember that you are wearing a turban.’
    “A force of another kind guided me. We walked behind the herd, crossing al-Nahhasin district, then al-Husseiniya, and then I saw al-Abbasiya and al-Wayliya. I did not feel any fatigue and I had no pity for my friend’s limp, but walked extremely fast, like a crazy, intoxicated man. The springs of adventure overwhelmed my heart, though Muhammad Shakroun uttered a litany of complaints.
    “‘May God forgive you,’ he said.
    “‘What’s wrong with you?’ I asked.
    “‘The girl is aware that you are following her.’
    “‘These are gypsies; they’re worse than