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ALAWIYA SOBH something special to offer. However, these things didn’t satisfy her anymore, and she blamed her late grandfather for not appearing to her in a dream to bring her good news of a marriage proposal in the offing. At some point she had concluded that someone must have produced a magic amulet, tied it to a rock, and thrown it into the depths of the sea, and that this amulet was the source of a curse that prevented men from proposing to her. It was so potent, in fact, that even all the water in the sea had been powerless to nullify its effect by dissolving its pages or erasing its contents. Add to this the fact that her unseen spiritual companion, who could only deliver her from harm on dry land, was unable to reach the amulet in its hidden location deep beneath the sea. This companion would hurt people who had hurt Amina and, tender-hearted girl that she was, tears came to her eyes when she told us about this. “Once, when the three of us were having dinner together early in our friendship, Amina told Anisa and me how her grandfather had pampered her because she was the only girl among six children. After he died, she said, his spirit had attached itself to her, and he’d started appearing to her in dreams. He would tell her things that would happen in the future, and his predictions would come true. Anisa and I were inclined to believe it, too. Many times she’d predicted things that actually happened.That same evening over dinner, Amina told us that after her first night vision came true, everyone in her family and even her entire village stopped dreaming altogether.Whoever did happen to have a dream would forget it as soon as they’d opened their eyes. She was the only person in the village who both dreamed and remembered what she had dreamed, as a result of which she’d been dubbed ‘the dream snatcher.’ “She told us that lovers, young women anxious to find husbands, married women hoping to divorce or fearful that their husbands would take another wife, people dreaming of recovery from some illness – in short, all those with wishes they wanted fulfilled in their lives – would knock on her door and ask her if she had seen her grandfather in a dream, hopeful that he might have told her something about them.Whenever she answered this question in the negative, the inquirer would leave crestfallen, hoping and praying that the hoped-for nocturnal visitation might still come. Her grandfather’s spirit had thus become the village clairvoyant, the one who could discern their secret hopes and fears and tell them what the 94 BANIPAL 70 – SPRING 2021
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ALAWIYA SOBH future held for them, whether for good or for ill. “I smile when I remember Anisa’s rounded belly during the fourth month of her first pregnancy. On my way home from her house one day, I ran my hand over my own belly, wondering if I could put up with having a tiny life growing in my womb, and whether I’d look as beautiful pregnant as Anisa did. Thinking about such things sent a tremor of fear though my whole body – fear of the dilemma of unplanned motherhood.To this day, I haven’t been able to identify the real reasons for a fear like this, except for the fact that I didn’t want to tie myself down with any commitment that might rob me of my capacity for art. Dancing – like freedom, like love – had always been my most passionate pursuit. “After Anisa married Riyadh, she was shocked to find out what he was really like. One day she said to me:‘If Jahiz had been Riyadh’s contemporary, he could have written the entire Book of Misers with examples from the life of Riyadh alone. And if you compared him to Molière’s miser Anselme, the latter would come out looking as generous as Hatim al-Ta’i*. Riyadh’s fingers are like pincers – all they know how to do is grab. For all I know, he’s never opened his hand to give anybody anything in his entire life! Even when he shakes somebody’s hand, he extends his fist instead of his palm. He brags about the fact that he’s never been to a café, even for a cup of coffee, unless one of his friends picks up the tab, since frequenting such places is, according to him, a sinful extravagance. I’ve caught him counting the eggs and packages of cheese in the refrigerator to see how many of them have been used up, and when he finishes doing the count, he goes berserk. He puts his head in his hands and wails: “O my God, there are monsters around here eating us out of house and home! Nobody has any fear of God, not even my own kids.What kind of a life is this!”’ “Once when we were sitting in a coffee shop, she told me:‘Sometimes Riyadh acts in unpredictable ways. So, for example, I don’t tell him how much I make at the magazine, because he might take it from me. I hide some of it away for my personal expenses, though it isn’t enough for me. But if I ask him for money to buy a dress because the one I’ve got is faded and worn out, he yells in my face, saying: “I swear to God, my grandmother went on wearing the same * A sixth-century Arabian poet, Hatim al-Ta’i is remembered for his proverbial generosity; thus the expression “as generous as Hatim al-Ta’i”. BANIPAL 70 – SPRING 2021 95

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ALAWIYA SOBH

future held for them, whether for good or for ill.

“I smile when I remember Anisa’s rounded belly during the fourth month of her first pregnancy. On my way home from her house one day, I ran my hand over my own belly, wondering if I could put up with having a tiny life growing in my womb, and whether I’d look as beautiful pregnant as Anisa did. Thinking about such things sent a tremor of fear though my whole body – fear of the dilemma of unplanned motherhood.To this day, I haven’t been able to identify the real reasons for a fear like this, except for the fact that I didn’t want to tie myself down with any commitment that might rob me of my capacity for art. Dancing – like freedom, like love – had always been my most passionate pursuit.

“After Anisa married Riyadh, she was shocked to find out what he was really like. One day she said to me:‘If Jahiz had been Riyadh’s contemporary, he could have written the entire Book of Misers with examples from the life of Riyadh alone. And if you compared him to Molière’s miser Anselme, the latter would come out looking as generous as Hatim al-Ta’i*. Riyadh’s fingers are like pincers – all they know how to do is grab. For all I know, he’s never opened his hand to give anybody anything in his entire life! Even when he shakes somebody’s hand, he extends his fist instead of his palm. He brags about the fact that he’s never been to a café, even for a cup of coffee, unless one of his friends picks up the tab, since frequenting such places is, according to him, a sinful extravagance. I’ve caught him counting the eggs and packages of cheese in the refrigerator to see how many of them have been used up, and when he finishes doing the count, he goes berserk. He puts his head in his hands and wails: “O my God, there are monsters around here eating us out of house and home! Nobody has any fear of God, not even my own kids.What kind of a life is this!”’

“Once when we were sitting in a coffee shop, she told me:‘Sometimes Riyadh acts in unpredictable ways. So, for example, I don’t tell him how much I make at the magazine, because he might take it from me. I hide some of it away for my personal expenses, though it isn’t enough for me. But if I ask him for money to buy a dress because the one I’ve got is faded and worn out, he yells in my face, saying: “I swear to God, my grandmother went on wearing the same

* A sixth-century Arabian poet, Hatim al-Ta’i is remembered for his proverbial generosity; thus the expression “as generous as Hatim al-Ta’i”.

BANIPAL 70 – SPRING 2021 95

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