Bensalem Himmich - A Muslim Suicide

As the old saying puts it, be alive during Rajab and you'll witness something wonderful!

By now I had been staying in Mecca for three years. Could there have been a more peculiar story than the one about the Egyptian lady who was residing near the sacred shrine? The warden of the Muwaffaq hostel came rushing over to ask me to come to her residence; she was extremely weak and was having trouble breathing. Once I had checked on the condition of the patient, who was lying on her bed, I discovered that she did indeed show some alarming signs: emaciation, pallor, and a sickly appearance. Her chest was heaving up and down, and the choking sounds coming out of her mouth sounded for all the world like a death rattle. I told the warden to bring a bowl, water, and herbs. No sooner had he left that she opened her watery eyes, pointed to my mouth and hers, and indicated that what she needed was mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After a moment's pause I did as she asked, but I stopped as soon as the warden came back with the things I had requested. I prepared a potion whose formula I knew and boiled it in hot water. I gave it to her to swallow slowly. A few moments later I was on the point of leaving, but watched as the woman sat up and gave me a warm smile. She told me she was hungry. The warden was amazed and delighted. "A miracle, by God," he said as he went out, "a veritable miracle!" I stayed and sat by her side, but the only communication we had was through our eyes. Once the man had come back with a tray of food, I departed, pursued by the warden's praises to God and the patient's glances.

What was so amazing was not the events that I have just described, but rather what she confided in me when I responded to her request and went back to check on her condition. Her face was radiant, and she looked in every way restored to health. I sat with her in a shady garden while the warden went back and forth offering his services.

"Good Sir," she told me in a muted tone, "I have been residing here in Mecca for more than a year now. My only guardian and helper is God Almighty. My family is in Egypt; some of them, my father and husband, are now dead, while others are in the waiting mode. I noticed you performing your first minor pilgrimage ritual; I was among the women who touched and kissed your hand. On the second occasion I was lucky enough to be the only woman who did so. Watching you performing the circumambulation on both occasions, I admired your appearance and was overwhelmed by your dignity. But there is no cause for alarm or concern. After all, the very model for all Muslims, men and women, the Lord of creation and the prophets has said, `While circumambulating the Ka`ba, I happened to see a woman whose appearance pleased me.' Beyond that, I saw with my own eyes the way you rescued that girl from Khurasan and restored her to life through your own pure breaths and the assistance of God Almighty."

She now paused for a moment, as though she were making ready to tell me something momentous. I too remained silent, unable to decide the best way of responding to her remarkable story. However, what she went on to say only increased my feelings of uncertainty and bafflement.

"Good Sir," she told me, her eyes closed and her cheeks blushing, "I am in love with you through God. All I ask in my loneliness is that you keep me company to the extent that you wish and guide me along the path of righteous Sufi belief. My dearest wish is that you should accept me as a disciple, one who will be obedient and cause no problems. I faked my illness so that I could get to see you and share my devotion and thoughts with you. Is God prepared to renounce one who seeks access to Him through one of His holy men? 0 Lord, if I have committed a terrible sin, then You are generous in understanding and forgiveness. So there it is. You have been my goal all along, and you are the arbiter. So please tell me what you think, or else reflect on it for a while and then get back in touch with me in whatever way you see fit."

How was I supposed to respond to this woman, when my mind was churning in sheer amazement?

"Handmaid of God," I stammered in reply, "I will certainly have to think about your request. If it takes me a while to respond, then it will be because of some impediment that God alone will be able to remove."

I asked her permission to leave, then said my farewells and departed.

Almost three months went by following this amazing and baffling conversation. During that time I only met a few people and debated issues with them. I also performed my third minor pilgrimage. As I circumambulated the Ka`ba and ran between Safa and Marwa, my mind was completely focused on the One Existent. I was assessing my own inevitable attraction toward his illumination through the Unity of the Absolute Existent. After that I took advantage of the final ten days of Ramadan to isolate myself, spending part of the time in my house and part in the all-blessed Hira' Cave.

On the morning of the feast at the end of the fasting month I purified myself, then joined the other people in the residence for their celebrations. On the second day of the festivities, the Egyptian lady came to visit me again in the evening, and I received her in the garden. Our company also included Ghaylan, who insisted on plying us with yoghourt and sweetmeats of various kinds. It was a short meeting, during which we exchanged names and words of congratulation on the feast and also on our health and well-being. I did not want her to feel I was being rude or mean, so I made a point of sounding both sincere and warm in my greetings. As she stood up to leave, she whispered in my ear, "`Abd al-Haqq, you know where my house is."

Yes indeed, I certainly did know where this noble lady, whose name was the same as my mother's, Umama, lived. But how on earth could I go there without arousing all kinds of suspicions and chit-chat?

How nice it was for this woman to be in love with me through God and for me to share the same sentiment with her! And equally nice to seek consolation in the line of poetry by Imru' al-Qays*:

But what was supposed to happen if this entree proceeded to a point where I was no longer in control or where the consequences would be bad? That is precisely what had happened years earlier with Maymuna, my elder brother's divorced wife, and with many others whom I do not even remember. This was a tricky question, one that I had posed to the image of Fayha', my wife, as soon as I had met this strange lady from Egypt. The gestures that I had got back counseled extreme caution. However, when I sought her advice again, her face was shrouded in a veil of total silence and rigid neutrality. As I pondered the situation, I decided that what it meant was that Fayha' was leaving the decision entirely in my hands and giving me complete discretion in the matter.

So be it!

However, I have a personal problem, one that I must try to solve, or else it's going to totally preoccupy my attention. The issue concerns monogamy: that I'm married to one woman and only one, Fayha', my very life and the sweet perfume of the monotheistic phase in which I am living and functioning. 0 God, please resolve this problem for me, unravel my uncertainties, and show me the path that You prefer me to follow!

I kept repeating that prayer beneath the sacred waterspout and in every single holy spot that I visited; in my prayers, litanies, and supplications; sitting and standing, every single place I went. But days and months went by without my getting any answer or even part of one. No light shone on the topic, not even the glimmer of one. All praise be to God who decides and predestines!

Ah me, how days and seasons can weigh one down when there is no certain news about one's homeland and family!