A Hand Full of Stars by Rafik Schami

Author:Rafik Schami [Schami, Rafik]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781566568401
Publisher: Interlink Publishing

The

Third

Year

January 11 — Today I saw the madman. They let him out of jail. He was squatting outside the Umayyad Mosque, mute as one of its stone pillars. People went by without paying him any mind, though now and then someone tossed him a coin.

I recognized him right away, even though he is greatly changed. His hair has been cut; his skin is very pale. Two round scars gleam from his temples; they look like they were burned in with two glowing metal rods. He sat entirely still. The pigeons, which enjoy special protection in the proximity of the mosque and thus fly around cooing in droves, don’t interest him at all.

I squatted down beside him and started talking to him. He looked at me with wide eyes and repeated my question, “What’s wrong with you, Uncle? What’s wrong?” He rubbed his temples with his knotty fingers and began to cry. Then he gazed into the distance and was silent.

What horrifying torture this poor man must have endured. Out of a wise man they have made a miserable bundle of flesh and bones.

January 15 — Today I had an unpleasant row with Josef. From day to day he grows more enthusiastic about the army. He plans, because he is so big and strong, to join the paratroopers and go to war. I told him a joke I’d heard from Uncle Salim, who cannot tolerate any army on earth:

A parachutist is supposed to land behind enemy lines and carry out an act of sabotage. His commanding officer explains the delicate operation and how it should be accomplished: “Since your mission is very important, we have equipped you with a double parachute. After you’ve jumped, press the green button, and the chute will open. If it doesn’t work, which seldom happens, press the red button. Then the second chute will open with one-hundred-percent certainty. When you land, you will find a motorbike leaning against a tree. Get on it and go to the rendezvous.”

The paratrooper jumps. He presses the green button several times, but the chute doesn’t open. “Okay,” he says, and pushes the red button—once, twice—but the second chute doesn’t open either. “This is not my day,” he curses. “And when I land, I bet the motorcycle will have been stolen.”

Josef didn’t find the joke about the stupid paratrooper the least bit funny. He was annoyed and said that only cowards like myself and senile Uncle Salim could tell such jokes. That hurt me a lot.

January 20 — How can one publish a newspaper without the government banning it? Lots of underground parties print their own newspapers and then pass them from hand to hand. I’ve gotten copies of two such newspapers from acquaintances. They were one big yawn. Is it worth endangering your life for such imbecilic drivel? No!

Habib has left the ruling party. I share his happiness. Mariam and I had tea at his place. Eighteen years he was in the underground and suffered every disgrace because of his party.

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