Chapters (47)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Acknowledgment
- Translator’s Introduction
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- About the Author
- Other Titles
- What’s next onyour reading list?
He was drunk with happiness for a day. But days went by. What then? Would everything be swallowed up in silence? Nothing happened. The sacred fire burned in his heart. The shrine of al-Husayn bore witness to his prolonged prayers. The path stretched ahead without a single flicker of light. He had finished his studies but his quest for culture never ceased. It satisfied his yearning for knowledge, refining his spiritual qualifications for the position he was one day, by the grace of God, going to fill. It also fortified him in his long and bitter struggle in the jungle of officialdom where everyone in power claimed sacrificial offerings from him. He did not possess the magic of wealth, nor did he enjoy the privileges which belong to a great family. No political power was behind him. Nor was he prepared to play the part of a clown, a servant, or a pimp. He was one of the wretched people who had to arm themselves with every weapon available, seize every chance, rely on God and seek His eternal wisdom which ordained that man should fall on earth in order to rise again, through sweat and blood, to heaven.
With the passage of time in its eternal course a post in grade seven became vacant in the Archives Section when its occupant was transferred to another ministry. Sa‘fan Basyuni said to him, “I’ve recommended you for the vacant post. Nobody in Archives deserves it more than you do.”
He shook his hand gratefully and felt he wanted to kiss him.
The old man spoke again: “You’ve spent seven years in grade eight during which you became a Bachelor of Laws and showed beyond doubt unmatched efficiency.” The man laughed, revealing his black teeth with gaps in between, and went on: “It will be yours for sure. People with connections wouldn’t be interested in a post at an office inhabited by snakes and insects.”
Waiting was long and days went by. Seven years I have spent in one grade, he told himself; at this rate I will need sixty-four years to achieve my ambition. He had not seen the Director General, who had kindled the sacred flame in his heart, since the day he had stood in audience before him among the new appointees. It was his great joy to stand in a corner of the square and watch his procession as he left the ministry with the pomp and circumstance of royalty. That was the goal, the meaning and glory of life.