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The Woman: a parable

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    The Woman: a parable

    > Nuh Ha Mim Keller 2001
    >
    >
    >
    > A man was walking through the marketplace one afternoon when, just as
    > the muezzin began the call to prayer, his eye fell on a woman's back. She
    > was strangely attractive, though dressed in fulsome black, a veil over
    head
    > and face, and she now turned to him as if somehow conscious of his
    > over-lingering regard, and gave him a slight but meaningful nod before
    > she rounded the corner into the lane of silk sellers. As if struck by a
    bolt
    > from heaven, the man was at once drawn, his heart a prisoner of that
    > look, forever. In vain he struggled with his heart, offering it one sound
    > reason after another to go his way?wasn't it time to pray??but it was
    > finished: there was nothing but to follow.
    >
    > He hastened after her, turning into the market of silks,breathing
    > from the exertion of catching up with the woman, who had unexpectedly
    > outpaced him and even now lingered for an instant at the far end of the
    > market,many shops ahead. She turned toward him, and he thought he could
    see
    > a flash of a mischievious smile from beneath the black muslin of her veil,
    > as she? was it his imagination?? beckoned to him again.
    >
    > The poor man was beside himself. Who was she? The daughter of a
    > wealthy family? What did she want? He requickened his steps and turned
    > into the lane where she had disappeared. And so she led him, always beyond
    > reach, always tantalizingly ahead, now through the weapons market, now
    > the oil merchants', now the leather sellers'; farther and farther from
    where
    > they began. The feeling within him grew rather than decreased. Was she
    mad?
    > On and on she led, to the very edge of town.
    >
    > The sun declined and set, and there she was, before him as
    > ever. Now they were come, of all places, to the City of Tombs. Had he been
    > in his normal senses, he would have been afraid, but indeed, he now
    > reflected,stranger places than this had seen a lovers' tryst.
    >
    > There were scarcely twenty cubits between them when he saw her look back,
    > and, giving a little start, she skipped down the steps and through the
    great
    > bronze door of what seemed to be a very old sepulcher.
    > A soberer moment might have seen the man pause, but in his present state,
    > there was no turning back, and he went down the steps and slid in after
    > her.
    >
    > Inside, as his eyes saw after a moment, there were two flights of
    > steps that led down to a second door, from whence a light shone, and
    > which he equally passed through. He found himself in a large room, somehow
    > unsuspected by the outside world, lit with candles upon its walls. There
    > sat the woman, opposite the door on a pallet of rich stuff in her full
    > black dress, still veiled, reclining on a pillow against the far wall. To
    > the right of the pallet, the man noticed a well set in the floor.
    >
    > "Lock the door behind you," she said in a low, husky voice that was
    > almost a whisper, "and bring the key."
    >
    > He did as he was told.
    >
    > She gestured carelessly at the well. "Throw it in."
    >
    > A ray of sense seemed to penetrate for a moment the clouds
    > over his understanding, and a bystander, had there been one, might have
    > detected the slightest of pauses.
    >
    > "Go on," she said laughingly, "You didn't hesitate to miss the prayer as
    you
    > followed me here, did you?"
    >
    > He said nothing.
    >
    > "The time for sunset prayer has almost finished as well,"
    > she said with gentle mockery. "Why worry? Go on, throw it in. You want to
    > please me, don't you?"
    >
    > He extended his hand over the mouth of the well, and watched as he let the
    > key drop. An uncanny feeling rose from the pit of his stomach as moments
    > passed but no sound came. He felt wonder, then horror, then comprehension.
    >
    > "It is time to see me," she said, and she lifted her veil to reveal
    > not the face of a fresh young girl, but of a hideous old crone, all
    > darkness and vice, not a particle of light anywhere in its eldritch lines.
    >
    > "See me well," she said. "My name is Dunya, This World. I am your beloved.
    > You spent your time running after me, and now you have caught up with me.
    In
    > your grave. Welcome, welcome."
    >
    > At this she laughed and laughed, until she shook herself into a small
    mound
    > of fine dust, whose fitful shadows, as the candles went out,
    > returned to the darkness one by one.

    ------------------
    "I put my trust in Allah, my Lord and your Lord! There is not a moving creature, but He has a grasp of its forelock. Verily, my Lord is on the straight path. (The truth)"
    (11:55-56)

    "...Indeed my prayer, my sacrifice, my living and my dying are for Allaah, the Lord of the worlds" (6:162)

    #2
    Salaam Saadia, I've already shared this Parable with every one

    *You can hide and deny the truth, but can never eliminate it*

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      #3
      thanx sadiaa that was really good

      Comment


        #4
        I would've never expected this parable to end this way. *shiver*

        But on the other hand before submitting this reply a thought just occurred to me that some can take the meaning of this story literally and say that women in general are part of the devious world . . . just a thought.

        ------------------
        Jitna Diya Sarkar Nay Mujko, Itni Meri Auqat Nahi, Yeh Saab Tumhara Karam Hai Aqa, Mujh Mein Aisi Koi Baat Nahin.


        g t th ߧ f f t t th wll t g .
        Rabul MashriqaiN wal MaghribaiN

        Comment

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