Quotes from "The Smiles of The Saints"

Quotes from

 "The Smiles of The Saints"

By Ibrahim Farghali

Translated by: Andy Smart, Nadia Foda Smart

Your silent sobbing tore me apart Nadia, as you drove along Talaat Harb Street on your way to kidney center beside the university. You stopped crying only for few moments as you entered the elegant hospital entrance but it began again immediately afterward. No amount of tissues could coup with your tears.

What stopped you was the emergency call to go to the operating theater. I may be the only one who knows what goes on in your heart. That awful silence that you know now after those long years of inner roaring, created by his thoughts, has left you with nostalgia… Now what will you do?

p

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After the dramatic death of Sadat there was not a bearded to be seen. For my part I stayed at home most of the time like my companions – the Brothers- who were in the process of organizing themselves. Was this the outcome of those two whole years of indoctrination, those weekly sermons meetings, and retreats where they had made us repeat after them, passionate for the dominion of Allah and passing of the tyrant? Had they known all along the timing of the operation or were they just as surprised as we were by the dramatic events?

I stopped asking questions and gave up going to mosque, making do with praying at home. I felt it was the end of that chapter in my life. P39

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Break time in el Malik el Salih Preparatory School was the ideal time to stand on the concrete ledge that supported the railings in the middle of the school wall facing the great Iron Gate. From there, with my back to soccer players and their supporters, I had the opportunity to watch the girls in the dormitory of the Greek School opposite- slim, blond girls that exited my imagination. On one occasion while I was standing there on the ledge, I saw her as she was undressing, unaware of the open window or of my presence while I, in a fleeting whose image was to remain with me for a large part of my life, was conscious of her naked. But from where I am can see only her tender shoulders, the upper part of her back, and her tiny breasts that are visible only in those moments when she raises her arms before dropping them quickly, as she covers herself up, shutting off the view that shock my soul, taken my breath away, and unsettled me for so long. P48

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May be I was the fastest, Nadia. But I ran alone, racked with pain. I was accompanied by an imprecation and a vow and by prayers for Christmas and Easter. All in vain. Now I'm just a ghost seen by no one, with no trace even of Rami or Christine. Here in front of me stands Haneen, their daughter, a clear symbol of the irrational lives you all live, Nadia.. while you tell her stories that have almost been wiped from my memory by the force of the pain.

When We struck blindness

a chapter of

The Smiles Of The Saints

By Ibrahim Farghali

translated by Andy Smart

Nadia Fouda Smart

Games of time and chance have dominated my whole life- They helped me to escape being haunted by Christine through the appearance of Maria, who saved me from so many hallucinations and anxieties. It was those same 'games 'that replaced Maria's ghost with that of Christine, but this time there was an even bigger surprise.

I had more or less started getting used to life without Maria. I was venturing to walk past those places that were so painful and that could only reignite memories buried in the depth of my Soul each time I passed by them: The Greek School, Randoplo, Kasino el Nil, and so many others. Due to depression and lack of any will to go out I would spend most of the time sitting at home, reading whatever came my way, when my mind was clear enough. Or I would sit starring at the television screen without any real desire to watch anything in particular. I spent most of the time in my room, listening to music without tiring of it for only music could salve mu soul.

It was there in my room that I was amazed to receive news of her return, when Nadia opened my door with a surprisingly silly smile to tell me that Christine was there in the living room!

She offered her hand as she smiled in a friendly way, looking at me without saying anything. I felt the features of her face had become more mature. I took her hand determined to squeeze it a little, to convey to her what I could not put into words. I held her tender, warm palm, recalling an era of feeling that I thought had vanished from my life forever. I approached her to kiss her and she accepted my kiss calmly, without a word.

After Nadia had brought in the tea tray and I had got used to Christine's presence once again, the conversation began to focus a little, although after a while I realized I was chattering without pausing while she was generally distracted. I felt that her soul glowed less brightly than before.

Gradually we began to resume our relationship, as if trying to overcome the death of Emad and trying to find new expression for a relationship between two people that held no place for him except as a pale ghost of the days whose beauty we could not recapture. We tried also to revive the parts of our hearts that had died. It was not easy to recapture those feelings after my experiences with Maria, whose image forced a comparison with all that Christine did, and I could not believe that she could be the same person that she had been before she decided to become a nun. I told her about my studies at Faculty of Law and about some of the professors especially Dr. el Shafei Bashir who usually turned his weekly lecture on international law into the start of a campus demonstration that began as soon as we left the lecture hall.

She told me she had lost a year of school and had had to repeat her secondary school leaving exam.

I described the basic out lines of my experience with the Gama'a, since I was not enthusiastic about discussing the subject, and she told me briefly about the rituals with which she had begun her life in nunnery.

When I asked her what had made her leave the nunnery and abandoned her life as a nun she wrinkled her face for a moment before broaching the subject hesitantly. Then she fell silent again for a while before adding firmly "It's better if we don't talk about religion again".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't want to talk about anything to do with religion again. Please don't try to."

"Fine. Then I won't tell you why I left the Gama'a!"

She smiled without a comment.

After further silence I said, "Okay, so we won't even go and light a candle at Mar Girgis?"

Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. And I knew that what we had enjoyed together could not be repeated. I remembered the last occasion we had gone to Mar Girgis on Port Said Street, where we had lit candles for Emad for the final time.

We will miss those beautiful shared experiences, just as we will not see the pigeons that circle overhead, fluttering in brilliant light when we heard of the appearance of Virgin in some church. From now on we will be struck with blindness.