Dream 46
We were gathered in a garden. As usual, our host was singing as we listened enraptured, sending up shouts of passion and approval. This disturbed the neighbors, who complained to the police. We saw the police coming and split up, trying to get away.
I ran in the previously agreed direction — and each time I looked behind me I saw a policeman running after me, as hard and as determined as I was myself. At the same time, it seemed there was someone running ahead of me as though in flight from me. Who could this person be?
The trim, comely figure reminded me of my absent girlfriend, which spurred me to run even faster. The policeman wanted to overtake me, while I wanted to escape him and catch up with my sweetheart. Thus we climbed the tower and ran up to its roof as I panted to embrace my darling — but then she leapt over the wall and plummeted to the ground from its height. I went out of my mind, and — my misery mounting — I jumped from the wall after my beloved as the policeman approached.
Hitting the ground like a bomb, I expected to feel the most horrendous pain — yet all was well. Completely unhurt, I stood up. Glancing around me, I found no sign of my girlfriend. Then I looked up to see the policeman leering down from the tower, drowning in laughter.
Dream 47
A group of boys were playing on the road just ahead of me: I felt they harbored some sort of ill will against me. This surprised me, for nothing to provoke that sentiment had ever occurred between us. As I walked on cautiously, I remembered with wonder the way I was at their age.
A huge shop loomed before me, which I took to be for selling pastry, as it said on its giant sign. The labor of preparation was at its most intense as I approached, asking: “Do the pastries you offer include baklava and kunafa?’
The men stopped their work to stare at me. At the same time, the gang of boys laughed boisterously and whistled. From the farthest corners of the shop, a man appeared and inquired, “Is it true there are still people who love baklava and kunafa?”
I strolled among the workers as the boys danced and whistled and thrust their clenched fists in my face.
Dream 48
I found the Harafish in the room when I arrived. I asked about the only one of us who was absent. They said they’d dispatched him to ask the great composer Sayyid Darwish to send the new ballet troupe along.
I hadn’t realized how spoiled the atmosphere had grown between us, as their faces all scowled at me. I wanted to go away — but at that moment the ballet troupe arrived, enveloped in music and dance. The tension between us lessened as we threw ourselves into the dancing and singing. Raptures raining down on us, our hearts became purified — love and affection pervading us all.
As we reveled with the male and female dancers and chanted in chorus with the hymns and songs, we all made a silent covenant to record the history of that night.
Dream 49
I was heading toward the elegant white building. In the heart of the great hall, the beautiful woman was sitting. We held a meeting with her, and she began to talk about the artistic production company that she had decided to form.
We all welcomed the company and its owner, presenting our individual views about work and production. We differed on nothing — except the salaries. She proposed setting each person’s salary by agreement with her. Some others thought the salaries should be based on a fixed percentage of the expenditures for films and plays. The debate carried over into the next session. I advised my colleagues that to stick to her idea would simply put us at her mercy: the percentage concept clarified the matter, shutting the door on any sort of opportunism.
The lady invited us to dinner, along with some other guests. After the meal, there was a celebration with music. Before we knew it, the woman had stripped off all her clothes and was dancing for us totally naked — an extremely enticing scene.
My final opinion was settled, once and for alclass="underline" I resolved to distance myself completely from the company — and from its owner, as well.
Dream 50
I was staring at a seductive woman as she walked down the street, when he boldly came up and whispered in my ear.
“If you have any orders,” he said, “she’s at your command.”
Despite the repulsive gleam in his eyes, I did not turn away. We agreed on a fee, one-half of which he demanded in advance: I gave him the half. He gave me an appointment, but when I showed up, I found him alone. He offered the excuse that she was indisposed, and he was perfectly prepared to repay the advance — but I believed him, leaving it with him.
He went on accosting me in my comings and goings, pleading for my patience. Fearing our encounters would damage my reputation, I informed him that my desire had 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
The 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
We 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.