The first blow landed right on my face. It seemed to have been aimed at my ear, since it left behind a ringing that quickly became a rock skipping over the surface of the water, making ripples that expanded out into infinity. The blow didn’t actually fall on my ear itself but rather just in front of it. From there, its force had resounded through my eardrum, then my brain, and then my spinal column.

At first, I couldn’t really process all that, nor whether the punch sent my way had something to do with my knowing Luqman, or his knowing me, as I can only now assume. I just heard a wave of sound rising around me, rising and then falling. I didn’t turn toward the source, but instead contracted within myself and made myself small, to avoid doing anything that might further aggravate the crowd. But as soon as I recovered from the impact, panic set in, and I hurried blindly in the very direction from which the blow had originated. I was caught by another, though, that knocked me backward and got my skull acquainted with the stone curb. My eyes crossed and blood gushed hot from the back of my head. The locus of the pain stayed sharp and confined—it condensed rather than spread.

I tried to raise my arm to feel around the wound and to offer it whatever protection I still could, but I didn’t have the strength. A dizziness came over me like a puddle of oil and I felt mired in it. It was only seconds before a foot smashed into my flank. My body curled back up. “God!” I screamed. It felt as though a small cluster bomb had passed through my ribs and exploded in my side. I gasped, trying to suck in some atoms of oxygen from the air that had been knocked out of me, but my chest contracted, my windpipe was blocked, and I lost consciousness.