know a man in Boulak — we used to meet up for dawn
prayers in the Abu ’l-Ala Mosque. I was invited to his house and got to know
his family He was the father of several daughters — six of them and any of them
was beautiful enough to be able to say to the moon "Get down and I’ll sit
in your place". After some time he said to me, “O Sudanese, you are a
religious and God—fearing man, let me give you one of my daughters in
marriage." In God’s truth, Wad Rayyes, I really fancied the eldest, but
shortly after this I got a telegram telling me of my late mother’s death, so I
left then and there.’
‘May God rest her soul,’ said Bakri. ‘She was a fine woman.’
Wad Rayyes gave a deep sigh and said, ‘What a pity — that’s life though. It
gives to those who don’t want to take. I swear to you if I’d been in your place
I’d have done all sorts of things. I’d have married and settled there and
tasted the sweetness of life with the Egyptian girls. What brought you back to
this barren, good-for-nothing place?’
‘The gazelle said, “To me my desert country is as beautiful
as Syria,” Bakri quoted the proverb.
Lighting up another cigarette and drawing strongly on it so
that the air in the room was clouded, Bint Majzoub said to Wad Rayyes, ‘You’re
not deprived of the sweetness of life even in this barren, good-for-nothing
place. Here you are, hail and hearty and growing no older though you’re over
seventy’
‘I swear, a mere seventy only not a day older, though you’re a good deal older than Hajj Ahmed.’
‘Have a fear of God, Wad Rayyes!’ my grandfather said to him.
‘Bint Majzoub wasn’t born when I married. She’s two or three years younger than
you.’
‘In any event,’ said Wad Rayyes, ‘as we stand today I’m the
most energetic one of you. And I’ll swear that when I’m between a woman’s
thighs I’m more energetic than even this grandson of yours.’
‘You’re a great one for talking,’ said Bint Majzoub. ‘You
doubtless run after women because what you’ve got to offer is no bigger than a fingerjoint.’
‘If only you’d married me, Bint Majzoub,’ said Wad Rayyes,
‘you’d have found something like a British cannon.’
‘The cannon were silenced when Wad Basheer died,’ said Bint Majzoub.
‘Wad Rayyes, you’re a man who talks rubbish. Your whole brain’s in the head of
your penis and the head of your penis is as small as your brain.’
Their voices were all raised in laughter, even that of Bakri
who had previously laughed quietly. My grandfather ceased altogether clicking
his prayer-beads and gave his thin, shrill, mischievous laugh. Bint Majzoub
laughed in her hoarse, manly voice, while Wad Rayyes’s laugh was more of a
snort than a laugh. As they wiped the tears from their eyes, my grandfather
said, ‘l ask forgiveness of Almighty God, I pray pardon of Him.’
‘I ask forgiveness of Almighty God,' said Bint Majzoub. ‘By
God, what a laugh we’ve had. May God bring us together again on some auspicious
occasion.’
‘I ask God’s forgiveness,’ said Bakri. ‘May God do as He wishes
with us all the days of our lives on this earth and in the Hereafter.’
‘l ask forgiveness of God,’ said Wad Rayyes. ‘We spend our
days on the face of the earth and in the Hereafter God does with us as He wills.’
Bint Majzoub sprang to her feet at a bound like a man in his
thirties and stood up perfectly straight, with no curve to her back or bend to
her shoulders. As though bearing some weight, Bakri stood up. Wad Rayyes rose,
leaning slightly on his stick. My grandfather got up from his prayer-rug and
seated himself on the couch with the short legs. I looked at them: three old
men and an old woman laughing a while as they stood at the grave’s edge.
Tomorrow they would be on their way. Tomorrow the grandson would become a
father, the father a grandfather, and the caravan would pass on.
Then they left. ‘Tomorrow, Effendi, you’re lunching with
prayers in the Abu ’l-Ala Mosque. I was invited to his house and got to know
his family He was the father of several daughters — six of them and any of them
was beautiful enough to be able to say to the moon "Get down and I’ll sit
in your place". After some time he said to me, “O Sudanese, you are a
religious and God—fearing man, let me give you one of my daughters in
marriage." In God’s truth, Wad Rayyes, I really fancied the eldest, but
shortly after this I got a telegram telling me of my late mother’s death, so I
left then and there.’
‘May God rest her soul,’ said Bakri. ‘She was a fine woman.’
Wad Rayyes gave a deep sigh and said, ‘What a pity — that’s life though. It
gives to those who don’t want to take. I swear to you if I’d been in your place
I’d have done all sorts of things. I’d have married and settled there and
tasted the sweetness of life with the Egyptian girls. What brought you back to
this barren, good-for-nothing place?’
‘The gazelle said, “To me my desert country is as beautiful
as Syria,” Bakri quoted the proverb.
Lighting up another cigarette and drawing strongly on it so
that the air in the room was clouded, Bint Majzoub said to Wad Rayyes, ‘You’re
not deprived of the sweetness of life even in this barren, good-for-nothing
place. Here you are, hail and hearty and growing no older though you’re over
seventy’
‘I swear, a mere seventy only not a day older, though you’re a good deal older than Hajj Ahmed.’
‘Have a fear of God, Wad Rayyes!’ my grandfather said to him.
‘Bint Majzoub wasn’t born when I married. She’s two or three years younger than
you.’
‘In any event,’ said Wad Rayyes, ‘as we stand today I’m the
most energetic one of you. And I’ll swear that when I’m between a woman’s
thighs I’m more energetic than even this grandson of yours.’
‘You’re a great one for talking,’ said Bint Majzoub. ‘You
doubtless run after women because what you’ve got to offer is no bigger than a fingerjoint.’
‘If only you’d married me, Bint Majzoub,’ said Wad Rayyes,
‘you’d have found something like a British cannon.’
‘The cannon were silenced when Wad Basheer died,’ said Bint Majzoub.
‘Wad Rayyes, you’re a man who talks rubbish. Your whole brain’s in the head of
your penis and the head of your penis is as small as your brain.’
Their voices were all raised in laughter, even that of Bakri
who had previously laughed quietly. My grandfather ceased altogether clicking
his prayer-beads and gave his thin, shrill, mischievous laugh. Bint Majzoub
laughed in her hoarse, manly voice, while Wad Rayyes’s laugh was more of a
snort than a laugh. As they wiped the tears from their eyes, my grandfather
said, ‘l ask forgiveness of Almighty God, I pray pardon of Him.’
‘I ask forgiveness of Almighty God,' said Bint Majzoub. ‘By
God, what a laugh we’ve had. May God bring us together again on some auspicious
occasion.’
‘I ask God’s forgiveness,’ said Bakri. ‘May God do as He wishes
with us all the days of our lives on this earth and in the Hereafter.’
‘l ask forgiveness of God,’ said Wad Rayyes. ‘We spend our
days on the face of the earth and in the Hereafter God does with us as He wills.’
Bint Majzoub sprang to her feet at a bound like a man in his
thirties and stood up perfectly straight, with no curve to her back or bend to
her shoulders. As though bearing some weight, Bakri stood up. Wad Rayyes rose,
leaning slightly on his stick. My grandfather got up from his prayer-rug and
seated himself on the couch with the short legs. I looked at them: three old
men and an old woman laughing a while as they stood at the grave’s edge.
Tomorrow they would be on their way. Tomorrow the grandson would become a
father, the father a grandfather, and the caravan would pass on.
Then they left. ‘Tomorrow, Effendi, you’re lunching with
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