The Dreams by Naguib Mahfouz Read Free Book Online Page B

since dampened. And—while I wouldn’t demand the return of my down payment—he had to stay away from me. He stopped approaching me, but still kept showing up most places I would go.
    Finally, I became fed up, hating him so much that I decided to move to Alexandria. At Sidi Gaber station, I saw him, standing there as though in waiting.

Dream 51

    T he train came to a stop, though there was no station. My lady companion asked why this had happened, but I didn’t know how to answer her.
    Next, squadrons of soldiers from the army encircled the train, then burst inside, wielding their guns. Many military officers who had been on the train, plus a certain number of civilians, were driven outside. I was among those placed under arrest, leaving my girlfriend distraught and afraid. We found ourselves out in the desert. The armed soldiers ordered us to remove our clothes except for our underwear. Then they moved the military detainees to one side and the civilians to another. We began to whisper to each other that we were lost and that the end had come.
    The soldiers’ commander came and called out to each of us by name. A voice among us asked, “Will you kill us without trial?”
    The commander answered with candor, “There’s no need here for a trial.”
    The train pulled away—and I remembered the one with whom I had come.

Dream 52

    W e were invited to a meeting in the Azbakiya Gardens. There it was suggested that we honor our glorious professor on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of his birth. No one showed any enthusiasm—nor did anyone appear to object.
    The ceremony, it was agreed, would take place in the Foreign Ministry, where he spent the flower of his life, and accomplished his greatest deeds. On the appointed day, I went early to inspect the place, immediately heading to the chosen hall. It was as elegant and awe-inspiring as always, though this time it was made even more glamorous by the presence of hundreds of gorgeous women the man had loved throughout his life.
    They came dressed in identical uniforms for their role as hostesses, each one displaying the succulent splendor of youth. My heart pounded madly as I grew woozy amidst the charms of the raving beauties—succumbing to the lure of love. I simmered with the thoughts that I would utter in the speech conferring honor.

Dream 53

    I inquired about my friend, and was told that the great musician and songwriter, Shaykh Zakariya Ahmad, chanted his tunes each night in his house until dawn. “What good fortune!” I exclaimed, and was invited to come by one evening.
    I went into the vast room, whose walls were embellished with arabesques, and saw Shaykh Zakariya seated on a couch, cradling his
‘ud
. He sang, “
Would that please God
?” as his family—women and children—sat in a circle around a man hanging by his feet.
    Beneath the man’s head, but an arm’s length away sat a great vat of acid.
    I became confused.
    My confusion was compounded when I realized that everyone present was following the songs, paying not the slightest heed to the man being tortured.

Dream 54

    I n the closed room, the discussion went on between the lady broadcaster and myself about local versus foreign music. At different points in the conversation, I stood at the piano and played some songs.
    Every so often, the door would open and a woman from the household—she might have been my mother or someone else of her stature—would enter to offer drinks. Without doubt, she regarded our seclusion with suspicion. Tired of her surveillance, I decided to challenge it by doing the unexpected. So, when next I heard the door opening, I rushed toward the broadcaster and clutched her to my chest.
    I saw nothing wrong or unusual in what I had done. When I had finished my act of defiance, the woman had not only disappeared from the room, but from the house entirely.

Dream 55

    T he debate raged between a man, a woman, and her five sons about the right of the mother—who had