“We always badmouth time’s treachery but do not swallow the bitterness of this treachery till time betrays us.”
“Did you believe that heroism consists of withstanding the thrusts of spears or the blades of swords? Today, do you believe that true heroism means bearing the blows of the age — not those of people armed with weapons?”
“That’s true. The masses puff us up with their cheap praise. Then we believe the lie and strut among people with all the arrogance of peacocks. We do not discover the fraud till the Spirit World frowns and inflicts punishment on the empty lands.”
“Here, at last, you speak with the tongue of wisdom.”
“But why doesn’t wisdom come before it is too late?”
“This is the nature of wisdom. This is the secret of wisdom.”
He was silent, and so was she. After a lengthy pause she repeated to herself, “This is the secret of wisdom.”
6
The day of the confrontation, the disclosure began with a stern question. “Do you understand that a man can bear being betrayed by a bosom friend but not by a sweetheart?”
She drew the scarf around her captivating cheeks, which were draining of color and losing their beautiful complexion.
Anger overwhelmed him, immediately robbing him of a wise man’s dignity. He shouted in a voice that was totally unlike any he had ever used: “I have come to hear the truth from you now.”
Pallor assailed her entire face, and its beauty retreated in alarm. Worry’s shadow peered from her captivating eyes. She muttered, “What do you want to hear?”
“I want to hear what must be heard.”
“What’s the point of hearing what you will hate to hear?”
“I want to double my pain. Perhaps the draft of poison I consume will prove poison’s antidote.”
She looked down at the earth. Anxiety disappeared from her eyes, where enigmatic mystery now settled.
She gazed up at him suddenly. Then mystery turned to defiance in the wink of an eye.
She spoke calmly, almost coldly. She addressed him with the composure that has always been the hallmark of the brave. “He was a wayfarer!”
“What are you saying?”
“He came as a wayfarer. So I offered him the only hospitality a woman can offer a man.”
“What are you saying?”
“I told myself that the transient paradise belongs to the transient, as the Law has taught us, and that the paradise of the male transient is a woman.”
“Are you lying?”
“I offered him a treasure that has always been man’s safe deposit with woman!”
“If only I had lost my sense of hearing and not my sight so I wouldn’t be hearing what I am now!”
“Don’t think I acted this way to satisfy some caprice or in response to the desire of a woman whose husband is away. I did it as retribution!”
“Did you say ‘retribution’?”
“Yes. Absolutely. A woman does not lie in the same bedchamber with another man unless she is plotting some revenge. Don’t believe what is said about the phenomenon of flirtatious women.”
“What revenge are you discussing?”
She shot him a spiteful glance. Looks like this escape a woman unintentionally and glow like sparks from a flint, but are immediately extinguished when the woman regains her self-control. She deleted the spiteful look and replaced it with captivating seduction when she pelted him with this cutting question: “Have you forgotten that you abducted me from my father’s home?”
He lifted his hand to the cloth bandaging his eyes and grasped the piece of linen as if intending to rip it off and toss it far away. He swayed back and forth like a man in mourning. Suddenly he became still.
Then he asked, “Did I do something the first peoples didn’t? Did I violate the Law we inherited from our fathers? Did I perform some foul deed when I took you from a tent that was a prison for you?”
“That tent you term a prison was my only safe nook.”
“I’m amazed by what I hear.”
“Know that a woman never forgives her man for taking her from her father’s home.”
“You speak about your father’s home the way inhabitants of the desert speak about the alleged paradise.”
“You may doubt whether the paradise the desert’s inhabitants sing about exists, but beware of doubting the father’s paradise!”
“Amazing!”
“A father’s home is a nest for the virgin. If she leaves it one day, she will never return. If she leaves it one day, she loses the way back to it — and loses herself as well.”
“I’ve never heard anything like what you’re saying.”
“Woman watches for opportunities for revenge, because she hasn’t found the treasure they deceitfully told her she would find in man’s arms — happiness!”
“Happiness?”
“This fairy tale definitely does not exist beside a man.”
“I doubt that this fairy tale exists anywhere.”
“Woman is the only creature who knows where this treasure is found.”
“You’re talking about happiness? Who can say decisively where happiness hides?”
“Man’s happiness is with a woman, but a woman’s exists elsewhere.”
“Amazing!”
“Man’s happiness is with a woman, but a woman’s exists elsewhere.”
7
Revenge….
Revenge is a way of life in the realm of the desert. Successive generations have reported that many other advocates preceded the advocate of revenge to the desert.
The advocate of revenge was the last partisan to enter the barren land but surpassed all others in sovereignty and sorcery.
He is said to have found his predecessors embracing one another and pretending to be fond of each other by day but competing to plot conspiracies against each other once night fell. Thus the desert’s very pillars rocked with their ignominy. Then the desert’s inhabitants were in an uproar because of this chaos.
The cunning strategist climbed a mountain and from it spied on his rivals in sorcery. The advocate of anger darted at his companions’ faces like a raging dust cloud. The advocate of envy smirked while fashioning snares behind his back. The advocate of hatred was taking advantage of his two foes’ distraction while bracing to deliver his own blow with a hand held out of sight.
The advocate of revenge chuckled, then the summit trembled, and the mountain’s rocks shook. This wily strategist told himself that his adversaries posed no threat to him, because they had only been provided with a limited knowledge of the science of duplicity. He characterized them out loud as playful tikes and empty puppets the winds tossed about. Then….
Then the cunning strategist decided to enter the playing field to teach these fools some tricky moves.
He donned a slave’s tattered rags and approached his rivals at noon, when they were hugging and pretending to like each other while performing rituals of mutual respect. He told them he was a mamluk of the leader and had come as a messenger from His Majesty to deliver an invitation to a banquet grander than any the desert had ever witnessed throughout its long history. They stared at him suspiciously at first. Then the advocate of anger darted at this messenger, demanding a sign from him. Before the wily strategist responded to this demand, the advocate of envy jumped up and pointed at the mount’s bridle, which was embellished with gold galloons and set with rows of precious stones. He asked, “How could a slave have a treasure like that bridle? When have slaves ridden beasts adorned with treasures? I wager, wretch, the donkey also belongs to your master!” The wily strategist prostrated himself till his turban touched the naked land’s dirt and asked reverentially, “Does a mamluk in our desert own anything besides his dreams, master?” So the fools chuckled together for a long time. Then the advocate of hatred remarked, “You’re right, wretch. We’re sure a slave doesn’t even possess his tongue, because his master can rip it out by the roots the moment he feels angry.” They guffawed together again. Then the emissary announced, “My master provided me with the gold bridle as a sign for you.” Doubts dissipated in hearts that had never known anything but doubts, and these master sorcerers raced each other to attend the leader’s banquet on the neighboring plain. The wily strategist seated them on a carpet of incomparable beauty, served them dishes more delicious than any people had ever tasted, and poured them a beverage so ambrosial they sang ecstatically. They became excited with desire and embraced each other according to banquet etiquette. When the wily strategist determined that the Day of Retribution had arrived, he rose to address them with a vengeful tongue for which these fools were totally unprepared.