Mahmoud Dowlatabadi - Thirst

‘Death. Have you ever thought deeply about death, Lieutenant?’

‘If I ever find out why I was born, then maybe I’ll also find the time to think about death, Dove.’

‘No, really, I’m speaking in earnest, because it’s perfectly possible that you won’t come back.’

So I responded just as earnestly. ‘Do you want me to go mad thinking about death before it comes? Why? Isn’t it the case that the whole meaning of my life and death is summed up in my circling this damned hill, dragging myself up like a wild cat and eliminating the sniper whose eyes and hand never make mistakes? I’m only sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to stop those five hot-headed young men. But in the suffocating atmosphere of the trench how could I simultaneously issue orders and obey them too? I wish at least one was left; that’d make it easier to take out that sniper, as we could crawl up both sides of that damned hill.’

‘So now I find myself as the sixth man, and having no choice I set off to conquer. I’ve said farewell to the seventh, but … I will not say goodbye to you, Dove. Time is short. We’ll see each other again up there.’

* Arabic, meaning ‘You! Drink, drink!’

† Reference to the first line from a poem by Khaqani, a 12th-century Persian poet: ‘The desert is a sea, the camel a ship, and Arabs waves / Waqese the border of the sea and Mecca its end in their eyes.’ Waqese was one of the caravan stops on the way between Kufa and Mecca. The poem refers to the pleasantness of an otherwise harsh desert in the eyes of Hajj pilgrims.

‡ Besmel refers here to the supplication required in Islam before the sacrifice of any animal (known as the besmellah , or bismillah , meaning ‘in the name of Allah’). The speed of the ritual is such that the animal (or person) is dead before the recitation can even be completed. The full incantation runs as follows: Allah humma hada minka wa lak. Besmellah. Allah o Akbar . (‘O Allah, this [animal or sacrifice] is from You and for You. In the Name of Allah. Allah is the Greatest’).

§ Farsi, meaning ‘small blanket’.

A KNOCK at the door!

It’s late at night. Outside the door stands the major. In the background, the silhouette of a jeep can be seen, but this view is soon obstructed as the major steps inside, passing a folder from his left hand to his right, and with each movement the folder cries out quietly: do you see what you are doing to me, Katib? This folder is not allowed to be taken out of the military zone. It’s a standing order. It belongs to the classified-secrets section … it has a Red Crescent seal on it … I argued the matter all day with Red Crescent officials and their idiotic interpreters! I can’t keep the corpse in the morgue any longer. The case must be closed. Every incident has a certain amount of time allotted to it according to its importance, and no longer. So, finish the job, will you? I even escorted you into the military zone, which was strictly against the rules! I showed you the film, the confessions … they’ve even been written down and documented. I showed you the culprits and left you alone to speak with them. What more do you want? Are you trying to suggest with your denial and this silence that what you’ve seen or heard is a lie? That I’m a liar who wants you to craft a lie? That the army is some kind of factory of lies? That I … merely want a plain detailed report of my lie from you?

He has scared the flies away with the flapping of his hands and has robbed the family of their sleep, despite a curtain which was hastily drawn between the kitchen and the family’s sleeping quarters when the major burst in. The katib tries to suppress his initial outrage at the major’s midnight invasion of his house, to say nothing of that primitive man’s aggression and bullying tone, which has no humane or ethical justification whatsoever. Which is why he has not yet lit the cigarette he’s holding between his lips and is waiting for his adversary’s fit of rage to subside; in the meantime he turns off the heat under the percolator, places the coffee pot, sugar, two cups and two teaspoons on a tray, and goes and stands in front of the major and says calmly: ‘Let’s go into the other room. There are candles there, and an ashtray … Let me bring some matches and cigarettes too. You won’t be comfortable talking here. After you! No, no help required. I know the stairway better. I’m familiar with it. I’ve been living in this house for at least thirty years. Before the war and the compulsory blackout, the half-storey up there served as my office! I’ve glued black cardboard on the inside of the windows there, it’s not terribly spacious, but it’ll do for two people … yes … turn the doorknob and open the door … now if you can get the matches out of the pocket of my coat and … oh, you have a lighter? Even better! There are two candles on my desk. Thanks. Please take a seat wherever you like. A cup of coffee shouldn’t do you any harm. It’s clear to me that you don’t sleep well at night, either. Or maybe the opposite, if so I can bring you a bowl of cool water. I have a small fridge up here; it runs on oil. You know, Major, people like me should never get married. But whether to marry or not is something that’s not … not entirely a matter of free will. It’s not subject to reason! That’s both its advantage and disadvantage. After all … how can I put it? Behaving logically all the time isn’t very reasonable either. When I saw Sabrieh for the first time it was as if she was made for me and for my heart. It was only afterwards that I learnt she felt the same way when she clapped eyes on me. Isn’t that weird? Isn’t it strange that two people should experience the same feelings and affection for each other at exactly the same time? What’s your take on human beings, Major? How do humans strike you? Are you aware that in our holy book, human beings have been called the most noble of creatures? “Noblest of all creation”! Do you agree with such an accolade?’

‘What are you trying to say?’

‘I mean, do you believe in the nobility of human beings, in the superiority of human beings over other creatures?’

‘And what if I do?’

‘What about the forgetfulness of human beings, the fact that humans are by nature forgetful creatures?’

‘Of course, one forgets things more often than not. This is why pen and paper were invented, so that one can write down things that might otherwise get forgotten. I do the same. I jot down my daily tasks in this notebook here, and before doing my final chore of the day, or even while I’m still doing it, I tear out the sheet of paper and discard it. Just like I’m doing now. Coming to talk to you was my last entry for today. Now show me where I can throw away these pieces of paper.’

‘In the basket, the basket next to my desk, which has kept filling and emptying again throughout my life as a writer. Before we get down to the matter in hand, though, I’ll quote from Socrates about the invention of pen and paper. Socrates claimed that from the moment writing was invented, mankind’s memory began to fade! This claim has been proved right through experiment and experience. Indeed, Socrates himself was living proof of this theory, for he was a man of words. At the same time, if writing had never been invented, Socrates’ words would never have come down to us, and if we’d never seen them in print they would have been forgotten! We were talking about forgetfulness just a moment ago, correct?’

‘You were talking about it, certainly.’

‘And enquiring — I was asking you a question, right?’

‘Yes, and I told you in reply that we can overcome forgetfulness by writing.’

‘But I didn’t mean forgetting daily chores.’