“I could not carry on living as if nothing had happened. Muhammad Shakroun felt sorry for me and watched over me carefully. One day, he asked me, ‘How long will you go on singing, drinking wine, and taking drugs?’
“When Marwana and the children were living with me, my life had a semblance of normality, regardless of the quality of that life. Now, Shakroun’s question was reasonable. I replied, without meaning what I said, ‘Until death.’
“He said, very seriously, ‘It is time for you to return to your grandfather.’
“‘Sheikh Jaafar al-Rawi is finished.’
“‘He can start all over again. We have to try,’ said Shakroun.
“‘I refuse to try.’
“‘Is it pride?’ asked Shakroun.
“‘I am simply being realistic.’
“‘What kind of reality is this?’
“‘It is not my favorite choice, but I have categorically and definitively given up the religious life. The life that my grandfather planned for me is totally unacceptable, and he won’t take me back unless I return to it.’
“‘He might give you your personal freedom,’ Shakroun said.
“‘He won’t. You do not know him like I do. I refuse to submit to a demeaning experience.’
“Shakroun said sincerely (and I never doubted his feelings), ‘You are a dear friend, and it is my duty to tell you honestly that you are leading a life unworthy of you. You are neither a singer nor a composer, and you must consider your future more seriously.’
“‘I can do that without living with my grandfather.’
“‘You do not seem to be happy now.’
“‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘but I embarked on a crazy adventure I will always be proud of. I am proud of the fact that I can adapt to any kind of life without complaint or weakness. You find me full of hope whether I live the life of a prince or a pauper. Here I am, holding on to the life of a pauper, and I refuse to go back to live in the palace. I refuse to be a respectable sheikh and a noble husband; to live by the fine traditions and norms not out of my own free will, but to fulfill my grandfather’s vision and enticed by the inheritance.’
“‘What about your future?’ asked Shakroun.
“‘I am thinking seriously about studying music and composition with Sheikh Taher al-Bunduqi. I can’t go through my life without a goal.’
“Marwana was the symbol of a past life, and an excuse to live a normal life without a goal. When she left I found myself adrift; I had to rethink my life. It was at this critical time that I met Huda Sadeeq.”
6
At a soirée in the Lipton Garden where Muhammad Shakroun was entertaining we were invited to meet Huda Sadeeq in her loge during the intermission. She received us with a smile that reflected her self-confidence. A very dark-complexioned woman sat beside her, and from her extreme politeness I guessed she was Huda Sadeeq’s lady-in-waiting.
“I was struck by Huda’s beauty, her conservative but elegant dress, and a certain pride that remained within the boundaries of politeness. She was enveloped in a halo of serious charm, but her feminine beauty was all in her eyes and her round face. I was certain that she was in her forties.
“She made a good impression on me, as I stood among the older members of the group, a healthy and tall young man, proud of my new suit. She invited us to sit down and ordered refreshments for us. She praised Muhammad Shakroun with these words,
“‘Your voice is pure and your group is excellent. I belong to a family that adores beautiful voices.’
“Shakroun thanked her profusely and mentioned her late father, whom artists remembered very well, in flattering terms.
“‘I have often heard my teacher, Sheikh Taher al-Bunduqi, say that your father’s palace was the home of eastern music.’
“She smiled approvingly and our eyes met more than once. Shakroun introduced me proudly: ‘My colleague Jaafar, grandson of Sayyid al-Rawi.’
“‘Is that so?’ she asked, interested.
“‘He is in love with art, as we all are,’ he added.
“‘Wonderful, but does the older Rawi approve of that?’ she asked.
“‘It is rare that a grandfather approves of the activities of his grandson,’ I replied.
“The lady turned to Muhammad Shakroun and said, ‘We shall meet again soon.’
“We left feeling happy, and Muhammad Shakroun explained to me that we would soon be invited to celebrate a soirée in her house. He added, very seriously, ‘She is from the al-Sadeeq family. She is the daughter of a great man and an extremely rich and cultured widow.’ He fell silent for a moment, choosing his words, and then said, ‘I believe she likes you.’
“I was elated. ‘Are you an expert in the interpretation of women’s glances?’ I asked him.
“‘Yes, I am. I saw her looking at you several times during the performance, even before she knew who you were.’
“‘May you be right, my friend.’
“He cautioned me: ‘Remember that she is a respectable woman.’
“I said, objecting, ‘What a pity!’
“I thought about her. She was, undoubtedly, a precious person, and the fact that she was at least ten years my senior did not diminish her value. On the contrary, it increased her appeal. But the madness that had once ensnared me could not be repeated.
“‘It is a great opportunity,’ said Shakroun.
“‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
“‘She is an excellent woman, as sweet as cream.’
“‘Suppose I do not love her?’ I said.
“‘Is this possible? Haven’t you smelled her sweet perfume?’
“I laughed loudly. Not long ago Muhammad Shakroun had fallen in love with a dancer and married her. He was happy.
“We went to al-Sadeeq’s house in Hilmiya to celebrate the circumcision of a child. The salamlik and the garden reminded me of my grandfather’s palace, though the garden was smaller and the wall was lower, and did not hide the house from the outside. A suradiq, the traditional tent, was set for us in the garden, where the fragrance of orange blossoms filled the air. It was springtime.
“Muhammad Shakroun sang with great joy, and we repeated after him with unusual enthusiasm. My voice rose above the others as I sang, ‘My heart worries about you, my heart cares for you.’
“After the second part of the program, wine and drugs had a strong effect on me. I sat under an orange tree in a state of total exhaustion. When Huda Hanim came to check on us and praise our performance, I stood to greet her, swaying.
“‘You are in a terrible state,’ she said.
“‘This is what happiness does to me,’ I explained.
“She ordered that a glass of lemonade with soda be brought to me, then said, ‘I like a spirit of adventure.’
“I realized she was alluding to my modest role in Muhammad Shakroun’s group. I said to her, ‘I decide my fate by my own free will.’
“She smiled. ‘The true adventure is in man’s mind.’
“‘What do you mean, my lady?’ I asked.
“She ignored the question and said, ‘I heard exciting accounts of a misunderstanding between you and your grandfather.’
“I said, defenseless, ‘So here we are. The news of my perdition is circulating among the ranks of high society.’
“She smiled charmingly and left. I felt that the gate to a new life was slowly opening. At the end of the party, Muhammad Shakroun escorted me to a café in Bab al-Khalq and talked to me in a serious tone.