Sunday, October 4, 2009

An Inevitable Introduction

A novel by: Hisham Asam
Translated by: Hisham Adam

But! If that was not God's will what threw the serial coincidences on my way, what would it be? I do not dare to say that it was only by motive of curiosity and surfing, it seems to me more than that. Even more striking and imaginative novels can not create such daring coincidences.

Perhaps they were not coincidences as they were imperatives were not taken into account. Does the life go according to its own law immune from what we want and what we are looking for? Do we similarity with the laws of the world without being aware of that, or we are in conflict with them? Was this conflict necessary? Maybe! And maybe we were a part of the game free out of logical and justified ends. I do not know! But I feel the world a big cubic dice.

I stand now stick to my history, trying to re-read and interpret it, as if it is a history of someone I remember his name hardly. A person I met him by chance in the Easter holiday two years ago, shocked by shoulders and smiled at me apologetically and I liked the whiteness of his teeth or the smell of his perfume or his hairstyle.

It is really surprising that someone discovers he does not know himself, and he does not know even the closest people to him; while he did not chum them only because he thought he knew them well, and understands what makes them provoked, worries, rejoice and what do they think of. "No one knows anyone" This is the result that emerged from the first.

Now, things become clear to me and I can see them with another eye, if I did not see before, or if I were seeing things upside down! The Truth surprises us when we look for it, and then we find out that it is what looking for us, and it is what finds us always. We understand that the world is proceeding according to a perfect plan, without getting any attention to our random, and all our idiot perceptions, because when you get used to the noise; quiet confuses you!

Now, I understand some of the mystery hidden from me, and mastered the craft of eavesdropping on the senses. I know it will not help much, but it is better than believing that life is fruitless and that the luck is the master. All things in this world are balanced and in their places, even those calamities, evils, and the coincidences are ordered alphabetically and preplanned!

The world has its own secret, and things disclose about its holiness and it is full of insinuations and passwords that cached in all what we see; but we do not see and we do not understand too. Perhaps we were affected by our humanity then we could not able be as the world wants us to be, to see in every peccadillo a sign to the special kingdom.

Oh! How stupid we are when we claim acumen and knowledge! We do not know anything about ourselves, we do not know about life except what we want to delude ourselves that we know. We quarrel with the truth as if it is our eternal enemy and devil holds all the contradictions. How naïve we are when we always ask about life and its secret as if we just created to solve the puzzles! Only now I know that life is easy and complex just like pants' zipper.

According to the experts: "As much as Man grows up as much as he revealed the truth of things obviously, and as much as he learns something new as much as he gets closer from the fact. Every day Man matures and his ideas and vision of the world mature too. That is the philosophy of the Supreme entities, and the secret of our research and endless questions." I say: "As much as Man grows up as much as he further away from the truth, and as much as he learns something new as much as he gets less knowledge. And as much as he matures as much as he becomes more stupid and naive!"

Now, I say now: "When individual be able to capture the thick horns of the truth he will become an immortal beings." Probably the true knowledge is not a delusion, as much as the absolute ignorance is a law that has its ascendency. We know as much as Adam and Eve ate from the fruit of knowledge, and we miss eternity as far as they were close from it. What a Man! Since that time he was looking for knowledge and immortality and did not desponds yet?

I am not about to record the history of my life; it is worthless, but discovering myself was the biggest surprise to me bigger than my ability to surprise. I laughed so often before on everything that was going on around me of paradoxes, I thought them chaos conducive to a bigger mess, and I felt sorry about myself and others, because we are in a vicious circle, into a maze created by ourselves. Now, I know that we do not create chaos, and the chaos is just a highly regular cosmic pattern, and it draws us to it with a grace we do not feel it.

I thought I was born in the wrong time, and that all who around me are just ignorant clowns, and biological creatures do not do anything but only sex and defecation. I wrapped by the philosophy from the ignorance of this world, and wondered: "What is the sacred duty of Man? Knowing himself or knowing the world which he lives in?" Now I know that the most sacred duty is not to know, and that the ignorance is the beginning of the science and its end.

That helped me so much to alleviate my feelings of resentment towards myself, and gives me a sense of moderation and balance. It is just a feeling that may not be felt by anyone except ropes riders in the circus stunts, who defraud the middle ear shell, and mimics their antis. Man likes not to be himself, loves to challenge himself and his abilities; not because he is a refined and distinct creature, but because he knows, instinctively, he looks like the universe somehow, so he tries to be consistent with what he feels.

We feel very happy the scientific accomplishments, and its amazing inventions, but we will be frustrated when we know that our defended for science and knowledge is our jealousy of the rest of the creatures! The Man tries to imitate birds, fish, frogs, and inspired his major innovations from the most contemptible insects. He claims he enacts laws and constitutions, but in fact he inspires them from of the nature. Creatures feel comfortable because they are consistent and harmonious with the nature. The tragedy of the Man that he challenges nature and deludes himself by the victory.

What did Man add to this world? I say: "He did not add anything at all." He is either discover things exist, or claims invention of laws that working automatically even without he knows, or invents things inspiring their idea from this amazing world around him. We are a big deception; as we are who enact laws and abide by, then when we discover the grotesque of the laws, we blows them up and enact new ones.

Not All things are valuable, or they are all valuable but we delude ourselves that we are who assesses and values them according to clumsy laws. We are who prefers gold more than coal. We are who assumed superimposition of the Spirit on the body, and we are, ourselves, who made the paper and named it "Currency."

The Man is the only one who believes that some creatures excrete jewels; and therefore we consider the pearls as valuable, and the sweat of whale as perfume! We all are deluded but we like to live in this illusion and believe it.

Whenever secrets revealed to us, we discover how petty we are. And whenever we felt close to the truth, we discover the extent of illusion we are submerged into, despite all that we claim the knowledge and wisdom; however, the illusion remains the only and absolute truth.

The details surprised me first, then the totals! I did not know that this thing is deeper that much. Eventually, I discovered that we just know the peels of things, while things always maintain their secrets fresh, attractive and authentic. Just when things integrate we know how stupid we are.

While Robin Singer was dying I said to myself: "Here is he dying now after he achieved all his wishes!" I was drawing silly smiles trying to convey to him smiling infection, but he was more adroit than me even on his deathbed! The fever held his tongue, but his eyes said a lot to me.

I knew I will be sad for his death as I did for many other friends who they had gone before. Then, few days later I will come back to the pub down the street, drank champagne with the rest of survivors friends, share laughs and offensive comics with them, throw each others with hazelnuts peels and popcorn such as children, and echo brassy meaningless lyrics waiting for funeral of other new friend.

Only now, I know I was naive and foolish. Only now, I know that everything I have seen I did not descry it. It is just like someone reins a horse dragging a luxury wagon on his feet for miles without thinking that he could ride the horse.

Some of what happened here, I experienced them all and involved in its painful and exciting details, and also those dull and silly ones, but I never thought, while I am seeking for my glory in writing, that what I know and what I cohabit with will be my first and last novel. I knew why "One Hundred Years of Solitude," is the most beautiful novel had ever written by Marquez, and why "The Da Vinci Code" is the finest I have read for Dan Brown, and why many people considered "Roots" of Alex Haley a humanity saga; they are all characterized by the truth.

But! What about the ethical of writing about this story? Have I bought my expected glory with a certain betraying? How to get rid of the successive conscience curses which will not forgive me at night, so they haunt me like dead indignant ghosts, until I surrendered to their mad wishes, then I end up dumped from an immemorial rocky abyss, or hanging on trunk of an ancient oak tree, seesawed by the wind like a thin wilted hemp paper.

Couple of weeks ago and when I was overwhelmed into my curiosity and engaged ordering the messages, pictures, and printed papers that I found inside a miserable wardrobe, I do not know how this naive curiosity, later on, turned to a strong desire to write? And how those papers, messages and pictures turned to an integrated story which can be live as their characters wanted them to live? I do not know! But what I believe in is; that no doubts these coincidences were not for me.

I wonder about the feasibility of publishing this story now, and I feel as one of the cloth-brides tied by a thin thread to a proficient hand. A doll playing its role in chapters of story that she does not know much about it. Then it rests peacefully into dolls box after the curtain falls down without knowing that there is a great story behind the red velvet curtain. How petty ourselves and desires are!

Dear reader, in order not to reviling me and not the curses overflowing upon me, It is my duty to explain part of the truth; Everything you will read it here I knew it only few weeks ago, although I lived its beginning for years. It is a story which you have right to read it however you want, and feel it or not, and like or throw it in the wastebasket, I had gathered its chapters from the trash anyway!

Read it in Arabic

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