Respected Sir/Wedding Song/the Search Wedding Song ; The Search

One The door opened to reveal an infinitely spacious room: a whole world of meanings and motivations, not just a limited space buried in a mass of detail. Those who entered it, he believed, were swallowed up, melted down. And as his consciousness caught fire, he was lost in a magical sense of wonder. At first, his concentration wandered. He forgot what his soul yearned to see--the floor, the walls, the ceiling: even the god sitting behind the magnificent desk. An electric shock went through him, setting off in his innermost heart an insane love for the gloriousness of life on the pinnacle of power. At this point the clarion call of power urged him to kneel down and offer himself in sacrifice. But he followed, like the rest, the less extreme path of pious submissiveness, of subservience, of security. Many childlike tears he would have to shed before he could impose his will. Yielding to an irresistible temptation, he cast a furtive glance at the divinity hunched behind the desk and lowered his eyes with all the humility he possessed. Hamza al-Suwayfi, the Director of Administration, led in the procession. "These are the new employees, Your Excellency," he said, addressing the Director General. The Director General's eyes surveyed their faces, including his. He felt he was becoming part of the history of government and that he stood in the divine presence. He thought he heard a strange whispering sound. Perhaps he alone heard it. Perhaps it was the voice of Destiny itself. When His Excellency had completed his examination of their faces, he opened his mouth. He spoke in a quiet and gentle voice, revealing little or nothing of his inner self. "Have they all got the Secondary Education Diploma?" he inquired. "Two of them have the Intermediate Diploma of Commerce," Hamza al-Suwayfi replied. "The world is progressing," said the Director General in an encouraging tone. "Everything is changing. And now here is the Diploma, replacing the Certificate of Primary Education." This was reassuring, but they all sought to conceal their delight under still greater submissiveness. "Live up to what's expected of you," His Excellency went on, "through hard work and honesty." He looked over a list of their names and suddenly asked, "Which of you is Othman Bayyumi?" Othman's heart pounded within him. That His Excellency had uttered his very own name shook him to the core. Without raising his eyes he took a step forward and mumbled, "Me, Your Excellency." "You got an excellent grade in your Diploma. Why didn't you go on to finish your education?" In his confusion he remained silent. The fact was he did not know what to say, even though he knew the answer. The Director of Administration answered for him, apologetically, "Perhaps it was his circumstances, Your Excellency." Again he heard that strange whispering, the voice of Destiny. And for the first time he felt a sensation of blue skies and of a strange but pleasant fragrance pervading the room. The reference to his "circumstances" was no worry to him, now that he had been sanctified by His Excellency's kindly and appreciative notice. He thought to himself that he could take on a whole army and vanquish it all alone. Indeed his spirit soared upward, higher and higher, till his head disappeared into the clouds in a surge of wild intoxication. But His Excellency tapped the edge of the desk and said, by way of ending the interview, "Thank you. Good morning." Othman went out of the room, silently reciting the Throne verse from the Qur'an. Two I am on fire, Oh God. Flames were devouring his soul from top to bottom as it soared upward into a world of dreams. In a single moment of revelation he perceived the world as a surge of dazzling light whicMahfouz, Naguib is the author of 'Respected Sir/Wedding Song/the Search Wedding Song ; The Search', published 2001 under ISBN 9780385498364 and ISBN 0385498365.