Ma’rouf the governor of the quarter suggested with all modesty to the sultan that he transfer Sami Shukri the private secretary and Khalil Faris the chief of police to another quarter, and that he should be gracious enough to appoint Nur al-Din as personal secretary and the madman as chief of police under a new name—Abdullah al-Aqil, which is to say, “Abdullah the Sane.” It was extraordinary that the sultan should grant his request, although he did ask him, “Are you really happy about the madman being your chief of police?”
“Absolutely so,” answered Ma’rouf confidently.
He wished him all success, then asked, “What about your policy, Ma’rouf?”
“I have spent my life, Your Majesty,” the man said humbly, “mending shoes until mending has become lodged in my blood.”
The vizier Dandan was disturbed by this and said to the sultan after Ma’rouf’s departure, “Do you not think, Your Majesty, that the quarter has fallen into the hands of a group of people with no experience?”
“Let us venture,” said the sultan gently, “upon a new experience.”
The habitués of the Café of the Emirs were whiling away the evening in merry conversation in keeping with the change that had happened in their quarter, when a stranger appeared at the entrance to the café. Of slender build, rather tall, with a black and elegant beard, he was dressed in a Baghdad cloak, a Damascene turban, and Moroccan sandals, while in his hand he held a Persian string of prayer beads made of precious pearls. The people were tongue-tied and all eyes gravitated toward him. In spite of the fact that he was a stranger, he let his smiling eyes roam familiarly among the people there. Then suddenly Ragab the porter leapt to his feet, shouting, “Praise the Lord, it is none other than Sindbad!”
The newcomer guffawed loudly and took his old comrade in his arms. The two embraced warmly, and soon hands were being grasped in friendly handshakes. Then he went to an empty place beside Master Sahloul, drawing Ragab with him, who protested in whispered embarrassment, “That’s the place for the gentlemen!”
“As of now, you’re my business agent,” said Sindbad.
“How many years have you been away, Sindbad?” Shamloul the hunchback asked him.
“In truth, I’ve forgotten time!” he said in confusion.
“It seems like ten centuries,” said Ugr the barber.
“You have seen many worlds,” said the doctor Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni. “What did you see, Sindbad?”
He savored the great interest being taken in him, then said, “I have delightful and edifying tales, but everything in its due time. Have patience until I settle down.”
“We will tell you our own tales,” said Ugr.
“What has God done with you?”
“Many have died and have had their fill of death,” answered Hasan al-Attar, “and many have been born and have not had their fill of life. People have fallen down from the heights, and other people have risen up from the depths; some have grown rich after being hungry, while others are begging after having been of high rank. Some of the finest and the worst of jinn have arrived in our city, and the latest news is that Ma’rouf the cobbler has been appointed to govern our quarter.”
“I had reckoned that wonders would be restricted to my travels. Now I am truly amazed!”
“It is clear,” said Ibrahim the water-carrier, “that you have become rich, Sindbad.”
“God bestows fortune upon whom He will without limit.”
“Tell us,” said Galil the draper, “about the most extraordinary things you encountered.”
“There is a time for everything,” he said, swinging his string of Persian prayer beads. “I must buy a palace and I must open an agency for putting up for sale the rare and precious objects I have brought from the mountains and from the depths of the seas and unknown islands, and I shall shortly invite you to a dinner at which I shall present to you strange foods and drinks, after which I shall recount my extraordinary journeys.”
Immediately his choice fell on a palace in Cavalry Square. He entrusted to Sahloul the task of furnishing and decorating it, while he opened a new agency in the market, over which Ragab the porter was put in charge from the first day. Meanwhile he visited the governor. They were no sooner alone than they embraced like old friends. Ma’rouf told him his story, while Sindbad related what had happened to him during his seven voyages.
“You are deserving of your position,” Sindbad told him.
“I am the servant of the poor under God’s care,” answered Ma’rouf with conviction.
He visited Sheikh Abdullah al-Balkhi, his teacher when he was a young boy. Kissing his hands, he said to him, “I was under your tutelage only so long as was necessary for my primary schooling, but I gained from it some words that lit up the darkness for me when I was faced by misfortune.”
“It is useless to have good seed unless it is in good earth,” said the sheikh amiably.
“Perhaps, master, you would like to hear my adventures?”
“Knowledge is not gained by numerous narratives but through following knowledge and using it.”
“Master, you will find in them things to please you.”
“Blessed is he who has but one thing to worry about,” answered the sheikh with little enthusiasm, “and whose heart is not preoccupied by what his eyes have seen and his ears heard. He who has known God is abstemious about everything that distracts from Him.”
Having made his arrangements to settle down, Sindbad invited his friends to a feast. There he recounted what had happened to him on his seven voyages. From them the stories spread to the quarter and then to the city, and hearts were stirred and imaginations kindled.
One day Ma’rouf the governor of the quarter asked him to pay a visit.
“Rejoice, Sindbad, for His Majesty the Sultan Shahriyar wishes to see you.”
Sindbad was delighted and went off immediately to the palace in the company of the chief of police, Abdullah al-Aqil. As he presented himself before the sultan only at the beginning of the night, they took him to the garden. There he was shown to a seat in profound darkness, while the breaths of spring brought to the depths of his being a blending of the perfumes of flowers under a ceiling that sparkled with stars. The sultan talked gently, so he was put at ease and his sense of awe was replaced by feelings of love and intimacy. Shahriyar asked him about his original occupation, about sciences he had acquired, and about what it was that had caused him to resolve to travel. Sindbad answered with appropriate brevity, frankly and truthfully.
“People have told me of your travels,” said Shahriyar, “and I would like to hear from you what you learned from them, whether you have gained from them any useful knowledge—but don’t repeat anything unless it is necessary.”
Sindbad thought for a time, then said, “It is of God that one seeks help, Your Majesty.”
“I am listening to you, Sindbad.”
He filled his lungs with the delightful fragrance, then began:
“The first thing I have learned, Your Majesty, is that man may be deceived by illusion so that he thinks it is the truth, and that there is no safety for us unless we dwell on solid land. Thus when our ship sank on our first journey, I swam, clinging to a piece of wood until I reached a black island. I and those with me thanked God and we set off wandering about all over it searching for fruit. When we found none, we gathered together on the shore, with our hopes set upon a ship that might be passing by. All of a sudden someone shouted, ‘The earth is moving.’
“We looked and found that we were being shaken by the ground. We were overcome with terror. Then another man called out, ‘The earth is sinking!’
“It was indeed submerging into the water. So I threw myself into the sea. It then became apparent to us that what we had thought was land was in fact nothing but the back of a large whale which had been disturbed by our moving about on top of it and was taking itself off to its own world in stately fashion.
“I swam off, giving myself up to fate until my hands struck against some rocks and from these I crawled to a real island on which there was water and much fruit. I lived there for a time until a ship passed by and rescued me.”
“And how do you make a distinction between illusion and truth?” inquired the sultan.
“We must use such senses and intelligence as God has given us,” he answered after some hesitation.
“Continue, Sindbad.”
“I also learned, Your Majesty, that sleep is not permissible if wakefulness is necessary, and that while there is life, there is no reason to despair. The ship crashed against some projecting rocks and was wrecked, and those on it moved onto an island, a bare island that had no water and no trees, but we carried with us food and waterskins. I saw a large rock not so faraway and I told myself that I could sleep in its shade for a while. I slept and when I awoke I could find no trace of my companions. I called out but heard no answer. I ran toward the shore and saw a ship slipping beyond the horizon; I also saw waves surging and giving out an anthem of despair and death. I realized that the ship had picked up my comrades, who, in the ecstasy of being saved, had forgotten about their friend sleeping behind the rock. Not a sound issued from a living soul, not a thing was to be seen on the surface of the desolate land except for the rock. But what a rock! I looked, my eyes sharpened by terror, and I realized that it was not a rock, as it had seemed to my exhausted sight, but an egg—an egg the size of a large house. The egg of what possible bird? Terror seized hold of me at that unknown enemy, as I plunged into the void of a slow death. Then the light of the sun was extinguished and a dusk-like gloom descended. Raising my eyes, I saw a creature like an eagle, though hundreds of times bigger. I saw it coming slowly down until it settled over the egg. I realized that it was taking it up to fly off with it. A crazy idea occurred to me and I tied myself to the end of one of its legs, which was as big as a mast. The bird soared off with me, flying along above the ground. To my eyes everything looked so small and insignificant, as though neither hope nor pain pulsated there, until the bird came down on a mountain peak. I untied myself and crawled behind a towering tree, the like of which I had never seen before. The bird rested for a while then continued its journey toward the unknown, while I was vanquished by sleep. When I awoke the noon sun was shining. I chewed some grasses to assuage my hunger, while I quenched my thirst from a hollow that was full of clear water. Then I noticed that the earth was giving out beams that dazzled my eyes. When I investigated, the surface of the ground revealed uncut diamonds. Despite my wretchedness, my avidity was aroused and I tore out as many as I could and tied them up in my trousers. Then I went down from the mountain till I ended up on the shore, from where I was rescued by a passing ship.”
“It was the roc, which we have heard of but not seen,” said Shahriyar quietly. “You are the first human to exploit it to his own ends, Sindbad—you should know that too.”
“It is the will of Almighty God,” said Sindbad modestly. Then he went on with what he had to say.
“I also learned, Your Majesty, that food is nourishment when taken in moderation but is a danger when taken gluttonously—and this is also true of the carnal appetites. Like the one before, the ship was wrecked and we found ourselves on an island which was governed by a giant king. He was nevertheless a generous and hospitable man and gave us a welcome that surpassed all our hopes, and under his roof we did nothing but relax and spend our evenings in conversation. He produced for us every kind of food and we set about it like madmen. However, some words that I had learned of old in my childhood from my master Sheikh Abdullah al-Balkhi prevented me from eating to excess. Much time was afforded me for worship, while my companions spent their time in gobbling up food and in heavy sleep after filling themselves so that their weight increased enormously and they became barrel-shaped, full of flabby flesh and fat. One day the king came and looked us over man by man. He then invited my companions to his palace, while to me he turned in scorn.
“ ‘You’re like rocky ground that doesn’t give fruit,’ he said.
“I was displeased by this and it occurred to me that I might slip out at night and see what my companions were doing. So it was that I saw the king’s men slaughtering the captain and serving him up to their ruler. He gobbled him down with savage relish and the secret of his generosity was immediately borne upon me. I made my escape to the shore, where I was rescued by a ship.”
“May He maintain you in your piety, Sindbad,” murmured the sultan. Then, as though talking to himself, he said, “But the ruler too is in need of piety.”
Sindbad retained the echo of the sultan’s comment for a minute, then continued with what he had to say:
“I learned too, Your Majesty, that to continue with worn-out traditions is foolishly dangerous. The ship sank on its way to China. I and a group of those traveling with me took refuge on an island that was rich in vegetation and had a moderate climate. Peace prevailed there and it was ruled over by a good king, who said to us, ‘I shall regard you as my subjects—you shall have the same rights and the same obligations.’
“We were happy about this and gave up prayers for him. As a further show of hospitality to us he presented us with some of his beautiful slave-girls as wives. Life thus became easy and enjoyable. It then happened that one of the wives died and the king had her prepared for burial and said to our comrade who was the woman’s widower, ‘I am sorry to part from you but our traditions demand that the husband be buried alive with his dead wife; this also goes for the wife if the husband happens to die before her.’
“Our friend was terror-struck and said to the king, ‘But our religion does not require this of us.’
“ ‘We are not concerned with your religion,’ the king said, ‘and our traditions are sacrosanct.’
“The man was buried alive with the corpse of his wife. Our peace of mind was disturbed by this and we looked to the future with horror. I began to observe my wife apprehensively. Whenever she complained of some minor indisposition my whole being was shaken. When she became pregnant and was in labor pains, her state of health deteriorated and I quickly fled into the forest, where I stayed. Then, one day, a ship passed by close to the shore, so I threw myself into the water and swam toward it, calling out for help. When I was almost on the point of drowning they picked me out of the water.”
As though addressing himself, the sultan muttered, “Traditions are the past and of the past there are things that must become outdated.”
It seemed to Sindbad that the sultan had something more to say, so he kept silent. However, Shahriyar said, “Continue, Sindbad.”
“I also learned, Your Majesty, that freedom is the life of the spirit and that Paradise itself is of no avail to man if he has lost his freedom. Our ship met with a storm which destroyed it, not one of its men escaping apart from myself. The waves hurled me onto a fragrant island, rich with fruits and streams and with a moderate climate. I quenched my hunger and thirst and washed, then went off into the interior to seek out what I could find. I came across an old man lying under a tree utterly at the end of his resources.
“ ‘I am decrepit, as you see, so will you carry me to my hut?’ he said, pointing with his chin. I did not hesitate about picking him up. I raised him onto my shoulders and took him to where he had pointed. Finding no trace of his hut, I said, ‘Where’s your dwelling, uncle?’
“In a strong voice, unlike that with which he had first addressed me, he said, ‘This island is my dwelling, my island, but I need someone to carry me.’
“I wanted to lower him from my shoulders, but I couldn’t tear his legs away from my neck and ribs; they were like a building held in place by iron.
“ ‘Let me go,’ I pleaded, ‘and you will find that I am at your service when you need me.’
“He laughed mockingly at me, ignoring my pleas. He thus condemned me to live as his slave so that neither waking nor sleeping was enjoyable, and I took pleasure in neither food nor drink, until an idea occurred to me. I began to squeeze some grapes into a hollow and left the juice to ferment. Then I gave it to him to drink until he became intoxicated and his steel-like muscles relaxed and I threw him from my shoulders. I took up a stone and smashed in his head, thus saving the world from his evil. I then spent a happy period of time—I don’t know how long—until I was rescued by a ship.”
Shahriyar sighed and said, “What many things we are in thrall to in this world! What else did you learn?”
“I learned too, Your Majesty,” said Sindbad, “that man may be afforded a miracle, but it is not sufficient that he should use it and appropriate it; he must also approach it with guidance from the light of God that shines in his heart. As before, my ship sank and I took refuge on an island that deserves the name ‘island of dreams’: an island rich with beautiful women of every kind. My heart was taken by one of them and I married her and was happy with her. When the people felt they trusted me they fastened feathers under my arms and told me that I could fly any time I wanted. I was overjoyed and rushed to embark upon an experience that no other man had tried before me. But my wife said to me secretly, ‘Be careful to mention God’s name when you are in the air or else you will be burnt up.’
“I immediately realized that the Devil was in their blood and, shunning them, I flew off, determined to escape. I floated in the air for a long time with no other objective but to reach my city. I went on until I reached it, having despaired of doing so, so praise be to God, Lord of the Worlds.”
The ruler was silent for a while, then said, “You have seen such wonders of the world as no human eye has seen, and you have learned many lessons, so rejoice in what God has bestowed upon you in the way of wealth and wisdom.”
Shahriyar rose to his feet, his heart surging with overpowering emotions. He plunged into the garden above the royal walkway as a faint specter amid the forms of giant trees under countless stars. Voices of the past pressed in on his ears, erasing the melodies of the garden; the cheers of victory, the roars of anger, the groans of virgins, the raging of believers, the singing of hypocrites, and the calling of God’s name from atop the minarets. The falseness of specious glory was made clear to him, like a mask of tattered paper that does not conceal the snakes of cruelty, tyranny, pillage, and blood that lie behind it. He cursed his father and his mother, the givers of pernicious legal judgments and the poets, the cavaliers of deception, the robbers of the treasury, the whores from noble families, and the gold that was plundered and squandered on glasses of wine, elaborate turbans, fancy walls and furniture, empty hearts and the suicidal soul, and the derisive laughter of the universe.
He returned from his wanderings at midnight. He summoned Shahrzad, sat her down beside him, and said, “How similar are the stories of Sindbad to your own, Shahrzad!”
“All originate from a single source, Your Majesty,” said Shahrzad.
He fell silent as though to listen to the whispering of the branches and the chirping of the sparrows.
“Does Your Majesty intend to go out on one of his nightly excursions?”
“No,” he said listlessly. Then in a lowered voice, “I am on the point of being bored with everything.”
“A wise man does not become bored, Your Majesty,” she said with concern.
“I?” he asked with annoyance. “Wisdom is a difficult requirement —it is not inherited as a throne is.”
“The city today enjoys your upright wisdom.”
“And the past, Shahrzad?”
“True repentance wipes away the past.”
“Even if the ruler concerned himself with killing innocent young girls and the cream of the men of judgment?”
“True repentance…” she said in a trembling voice.
“Don’t try to deceive me, Shahrzad,” he interrupted her.
“But, Majesty, I am telling the truth.”
“The truth,” he said with resolute roughness, “is that your body approaches while your heart turns away.”
She was alarmed—it was as if she had been stripped naked in the darkness.
“Your Majesty!” she called out in protest.
“I am not wise but also I am not stupid. How often have I been aware of your contempt and aversion!”
“God knows…” she said, her voice torn with emotion, but he interrupted her. “Don’t lie, and don’t be afraid. You have lived with a man who was steeped in the blood of martyrs.”
“We all extol your merits.”
Without heeding her words, he said, “Do you know why I kept you close by me? Because I found in your aversion a continued torment that I deserved. What saddens me is that I believe that I deserve punishment.”
She could not stop herself from crying, and he said gently, “Weep, Shahrzad, for weeping is better than lying.”
“I cannot,” she exclaimed, “lead a life of ease and comfort after tonight.”
“The palace is yours,” he said in protest, “and that of your son who will be ruling the city tomorrow. It is I who must go, bearing my bloody past.”
“Majesty!”
“For the space of ten years I have lived torn between temptation and duty: I remember and I pretend to have forgotten; I show myself as refined and I lead a dissolute life; I proceed and I regret; I advance and I retreat; and in all circumstances I am tormented. The time has come for me to listen to the call of salvation, the call of wisdom.”
“You are spurning me as my heart opens to you,” she said in a tone of avowal.
“I no longer look to the hearts of humankind,” he said sternly.
“It is an opposing destiny that is mocking us.”
“We must be satisfied with what has been fated for us.”
“My natural place is as your shadow,” she said bitterly.
“The sultan,” he said with a calm unaffected by emotions, “must depart once he has lost competence; as for the ordinary man, he must find his salvation.”
“You are exposing the city to horrors.”
“Rather am I opening to it the door of purity, while I wander about aimlessly seeking my salvation.”
She stretched out her hand toward his in the darkness, but he withdrew his own with the words “Get up and proceed to your task. You have disciplined the father and you must prepare the son for a better outcome.”
Sindbad thought he would be able to enjoy the pleasures of work and evening conversation until the end of his life, but there came to him a dream. When he awoke he could not forget it and its effect did not disappear. What was this yearning? Was he fated to spend his life being tossed about by sea waves? Who was it who was calling to him from beyond the horizon? Did he want from the world more than it had already given him? He closed his warehouse in the evening and set off for the house of Abdullah al-Balkhi, telling himself that the sheikh would have the solution. On the way to the sheikh’s room he caught a glimpse of Zubeida his daughter, and the ground shook under him. His visit took on a new perspective, one that had not previously occurred to him. He found that the sheikh had with him the doctor Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni. He sat down, hesitant and confused, then said, “Master, I have come to ask for the hand of your daughter.”
The sheikh pierced him with a smile and said, “Not at all—you came for another reason.”
Sindbad was taken aback and said nothing.
“My daughter, since her husband Aladdin was killed, has devoted herself to the Path.”
“Marriage does not divert one from the Path.”
“She has said her final word on this.”
Sindbad gave a sad sigh and the sheikh asked him, “Why did you really come to me, Sindbad?”
There was a long silence, which seemed to divide pretension and truth. Then he whispered, “Anxiety, master.”
“Has your business been hit by a slump?” asked Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni.
“He who finds no tangible reason for anxiety is nonetheless anxious,” said Sindbad.
“Speak out, Sindbad,” said the sheikh.
“It is as though I have received a call from beyond the seas.”
“Travel,” said Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni simply. “For in journeys there are numberless benefits.”
“I saw in a dream the roc fluttering its wings,” said Sindbad.
“Perhaps it is an invitation to the skies,” said the sheikh.
“I am a man of seas and islands,” said Sindbad submissively.
“Know,” said the sheikh, “that you will not attain the rank of the devout until you pass through six obstacles. The first of these is that you should close the door of comfort and open that of hardship. The second is that you should close the door of renown and open that of insignificance. The third is that you should close the door of rest and open that of exertion. The fourth is that you should close the door of sleep and open that of wakefulness. The fifth is that you should close the door of riches and open that of poverty. The sixth is that you should close the door of hope and open the door of readiness for death.”
“I am not of that elite,” Sindbad said courteously. “The door of devoutness is wide open for others.”
“What you have uttered is the truth,” said the doctor Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni.
“If you want to be at ease,” the sheikh said to Sindbad, “then eat what falls to your lot, dress in what you find at hand, and be satisfied with what God has decreed for you.”
“It suffices me that I worship God, master,” said Sindbad.
“God has looked into the hearts of his saints and some of them are not suited to bearing a single letter of gnosis, so He has kept them busy with worship,” said the sheikh.
“He has seen and he has heard,” said the doctor, addressing the sheikh. “I am happy for him.”
“Blessed is he who has but one worry and whose heart is not occupied with what his eyes have seen and his ears heard,” said the sheikh.
“Calls have poured down from a thousand and one wondrous places.”
The sheikh recited:
“I in exile weep.
May not the eye of a stranger weep!
The day I left my country
I was not of right mind,
How odd for me and my leaving
a homeland in which is my beloved!”
Al-Maheeni looked at the sheikh for some time, then said, “He is traveling, master, so bid him farewell with a kind word.”
The sheikh smiled gently and said to Sindbad, “If your soul is safe from you, then you have discharged its right; and if people are safe from you, then you have discharged their rights.”
Sindbad bent over his hand and kissed it, then looked at the doctor in gratitude. He was about to get to his feet when the doctor placed his hand on his shoulder and said, “Go in peace, then return laden with diamonds and wisdom, but do not repeat the mistake.”
A confused look appeared in Sindbad’s eyes and al-Maheeni said to him, “The roc had not previously flown with a man, and what did you do? You left it at the first opportunity, drawn by the sparkle of diamonds.”
“I hardly believed I would make my escape.”
“The roc flies from an unknown world to an unknown world, and it leaps from the peak of Waq to the peak of Qaf, so be not content with anything for it is the wish of the Sublime.”
And it was as if Sindbad had drunk ten drafts of wine.