انزجار فارسی 1405

It was nightfall, and ʿAbd al-Qādir still had not returned. The villagers went toward the qanāt and discovered that it had collapsed on top of him, and by then it was too late. Certain that he was dead, they refrained from digging him out and returned to the village in sorrow and mourning.

The people of the village all grieved for ʿAbd al-Qādir, and I could not believe that an old lustful man like him could have been so deeply beloved.

In the middle of the night, while I was wrestling with exhaustion and sleeplessness, the roar of flames and then the screams and cries of women rose from the village. The sound was coming from ʿAbd al-Qādir’s house.

When the villagers rushed there, they found ʿĀʾishah burning.

I lagged behind the others and stood still, staring in astonishment at the dance of the phoenix and at ʿĀʾishah within the flames, and I wept. ʿĀʾishah had set herself on fire, and I could not believe it was for the death of ʿAbd al-Qādir.

I cannot write any more than this of the bewilderment and sorrow of that night.

The next day, at ʿĀʾishah’s funeral, I saw Muḥammad, and I was surprised that he was not mourning.