In a place we inhabit in a time that inhabits us

Description

He wandered through the garden. In his pocket lay the note like a snake. He reached out to retrieve it more than once, but each time he returned the paper to the note. Each time he returned the note to his pocket. He didn’t get rid of it even when he went to his office to write on the paper the phrase that turned the tables: “Rather, by Amr’s hand, not mine!” He tucked the paper into the same note that held the message. He hung the note on the door of the house, then went to the Pasha’s Mosque to perform the Friday prayer. But he was never destined to return home, because “Amr’s hand” soon struck him with a poisoned blow, so swift that even the worshippers didn’t realize the secret of his downfall until they discovered that his prostration was his last: the eternal prostration! In the “Columns” café, the man with the curly hair said: “A secret that the tongue hasn’t revealed, time will surely reveal!” Hamima Pasha inquired, and he explained: “Thank God we didn’t…” We meddle in things that don’t concern us. The man with the straight hair wondered: Is this a metaphor for the water seller? No, it’s a metaphor for the seller of death, not the water seller! The man with the straight hair smiled. He continued to watch the throng of passersby. He said: Thank God that secrecy didn’t lie to me the day I told you that speaking out is a characteristic of the worldly, not of the spectators! But I wanted to salvage what could be salvaged. Salvaging what could be salvaged is not the message of the shadows that burden the likes of us on this earth. I almost misjudged the message of time that day, and now it reveals what we refrained from revealing. This is proof of the wisdom of the saying that we should never stir. The man with the spiced hair sipped his coffee, imbued with the spirit of the elixir. His throat released a muffled sound. He wondered: Time! What enigma is time, I wonder? His absent companion answered: The enigma of time is our enigma! Do you mean to say that we are time? Yes. We inhabit space, but time inhabits us! The man with the curly hair gazed into the space shrouded in the evening’s gloom. In the tone of one who had received a spark of inspiration, he said: “Place is our body, and time is our soul. Isn’t that so?” Before he could hear an answer, he added: “But the miracle of time is revelation!”

The author continues on, and the reader follows him, immersing themselves in the depths of his profound philosophy, using symbolism as a vehicle to soar on the wings of imagination, transcending time and space.