Bensalem Himmich - A Muslim Suicide

I left the governor's presence without saying a word. He accompanied me to the door. As I made my way down the riyad's corridors toward the exit, I passed by a number of servants and guards, but saw no sign of the deputy governor.

So here we are, Fayha', facing another trial; I think this one is certainly the worst of all!

By God, I'm certainly not going to enter your quarters and sit with you when my expression is so utterly miserable and gloomy. How could it be otherwise, bearing in mind what has befallen me, let alone what awaits me?

If there was one fixed point in my exploration of the upper spheres, then it was always through extravagant, untrammeled imagination. But now I find myself buffeted and sorely wounded. Even if I could somehow mount the fabled steed of my passions and inner tensions, the only consequence would be a yet more bitter pill to swallow; I would find myself weaving a set of tales whose endings would consist of convulsions, maimings, and death.

Maybe the only recourse I have in dealing with this chronic sense of disruption is to sit by the seashore and let the lapping of the waves and the breezes waft over me. I turned in that direction and headed for a spot between two large rocks. As I sat down by the sea, my only concern was to seek refuge in its vast expanse and cast all my troubles and worries on its waters, although I did allow myself to gaze off toward the horizon shrouded in a variety of colors and differently hued clouds and to stare at the clashing waves that beat on the shore. While I sat there weary and totally distracted from everything going on around me, I heard someone yell, "You there, the sea never provides comfort or offers advice, so turn your face toward the Creator of seas and worlds, the One who enables and levels. To Him is the resource and the return."

Whoever it was who yelled brought me back to reality and restored my sense of peace and security. I took the opportunity to return home, fully intending to keep the bad situation in which I now found myself from my wife. Once I made my way into our bedroom, it was already nighttime, so I did my prayers by the dim light of a candle and added some other prayers in a soft voice so as not to wake my wife. But, no sooner had I finished than I heard Fayha" s voice under the bedcovers asking me how I was and how the governor was faring. I told her that, thanks be to God, we were both well. She then asked me to come to her, at which point I hurried over to her as my haven and source of comfort.

Next morning at breakfast, I told my wife about my earnest desire to perform the lesser pilgrimage and then the full pilgrimage afterward. She in turn told me that she too would like to accompany me to the holy places, but went on to say that she could not do it during the coming season because her uncle in Tangier was so ill and she had to look after him. She told me that she was leaving for that city next morning and our servant-boy would be following a day later. I stared at her lovely face for just a moment, and then agreed to her plan.

I spent the entire day in the company of the lady who was my chief source of joy and mistress of my heart. The night was spent in fierce passion as we indulged ourselves in that magic that marriage permits. Our feelings were, needless to say, mixed, as we both realized full well that we were about to part. However, I tried to overcome such feelings by concentrating on kisses, warm embraces, and complete fusion of our two bodies. It was as though I were putting a very precious commodity into storage in anticipation of meager times.

Next morning, I had hardly had the chance to say farewell to my beloved wife-holding back the tears as I did so-when Hamada came over with a note that Bilal had taken in from a young man who had immediately taken off. Here is what it said:

"My master, I am one of your Sabta students. Yesterday we all went to the governor's residence to ask that you be given permission to teach us, either in the mosque or wherever they decided. The police and their aides met us with canes and truncheons and laid into us in a totally barbaric fashion. They arrested some of us, but the rest managed to get away, albeit bruised and battered. This is what I need to report to my master-and we can only lodge our complaints with God Almighty, He who is the only granter of victory."

Next day I received yet another note from the same source, informing me that a number of my followers had been imprisoned, and my trio of confidants had been expelled from the Sabta plain. This ongoing succession of bad news sent me into a deep depression. Soon afterward, Bilal came to see me in order to bid me farewell; he was carrying his lute and flute with him. I asked him to stay a little while and to play a flute piece that he did particularly well. Somewhat taken aback, he sat down in front of me and started performing the piece I had requested. The sighs and plaints of the tune conformed exactly to my own sense of deep sorrow, and the invisible bloodletting implicit in the soulful tune exactly matched my own spiritual bleeding. All of a sudden he stopped playing and told me that his caravan would soon be leaving. I stood up and clutched him to me, entrusting Fayha' to his care and wishing him a pleasant journey. He gave me a tearful look, kissed my hand and shoulder with more fervor than he had ever shown before, then went out.

Early next morning I could hear a hubbub at the door of the house. When I went to see what was happening, I found myself facing two policemen who were cursing and swearing at Bilal. They kept telling him to summon his master immediately. All the while passers-by kept stopping to watch and children were making a din. I informed the two policemen that I was the one they were asking for. They then came over to me and told me to accompany them immediately to the deputy governor's residence where there was a matter that concerned me specifically. I asked them to give me a document signed by the deputy governor in person, but they refused. Instead they grabbed me by the arms, clearly intending to take me away against my will. With that, Bilal came over and rescued me from their clutches with an ease that I found remarkable. All that he needed to do to get them to let go of me was to bang their heads together, then crush their heads under his armpits. All the while the onlookers were guffawing their heads off. The policemen only managed to escape his clutches when I told him to go back to work and lock the front door of the house. Once that was done, I made my way to the kitchen, where I calmed down the two maidservants, who were really scared. I then went to my closet to consider my situation and decide what I needed to do next.

I spent half the night thinking about a variety of things, with the idea of going to the holy places to perform the minor pilgrimage and hajj at the top of the list. I came to see the idea as a pious deed that would restore a feeling of serenity to my battered soul and refresh and strengthen my spiritual energy. The best charity, as the saying has it, is that which comes quickest, something that would inevitably involve visits to holy sites and various rituals that I had often performed in my imagination as part of both night dreams and daydreams.

When I woke up, it was well nigh midday. As I went to check on things inside the house, I was full of misgivings, suspecting that this day too would bring its own share of misfortunes. My instincts proved correct because I could find no trace of Bilal either in his room, in the stable, or by the door. I asked the two servant-women, but they knew nothing. But then some of my neighbors told me that they had watched earlier as a column of soldiers had led my servant away bound and in chains. I made ready to go out and headed for the governor's residence on foot, my idea being to come up with a plan while on the way that would get Bilal released and confront the urgency of this situation. I was greeted by a whole group of the governor's or deputy governor's aides; they accompanied me to a narrow, dank room where they asked me to sit down and wait. As they stood disapprovingly by the door, I felt the time passing as slow as lead. Eventually I lost patience, went over to the men, and expressed my extreme displeasure at the way I was being treated. I demanded that they arrange for me to meet the governor as soon as possible. When I realized that they were not going to respond to my request, I asked to be taken to see Bilal. They immediately escorted me across an overgrown garden to a rickety, moss-covered set of steps that went down into a basement with cells on either side, each with a tiny amount of light and iron bars on the door. I could just make out the figures of prisoners inside, all of whom seemed downtrodden and eerily silent. Some of them started calling out my name as soon as they saw me and, praying for me in unison, they chanted, "God alone! God the living! In good times and bad. God alone has the power and might!"