Secret Desires

By Manal Elkady

In this novel you are going to meet characters from different nationalities. From Egypt , Shawkat an owner of an Antique shop at Khan-Alkhalily the famous district in Egypt , and Nori a violist and gypsy.

Hong a Chinese woman who lives in Cairo and works as a designer relying mainly on her talent in arranging flowers . Ramzi an Egyptian American who joined the war in Iraq among USA army , he is the son of Nori and Geraldine a native American who is against the war in Iraq . Youssef an autistic child and son of Shawkat.

All these characters are revealing human pain , and universal oppression , reminding us of our humanity , in spite of different languages , nationalities and secret desires .This novel records also the circumstances which led to the Egyptian revolution on 25th January 2011 , it predicted its occurrence, and also predicted the disaccord between different Egyptian parties which followed . The novel was published in Arabic in 2008 at the supreme council of culture in Egypt. The author decided to rewrite it in English to be read by English speaking people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Africa
• Release date: Mar 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781482877748

Manal Elkady

Manal Elkady is an Egyptian novelist , physician specialized in psychiatry . She is a member of the supreme council of culture in Egypt since 2012 , she was chosen in 2016 to be an expert there ,due to her cultural contributions . She is the author of 15 books and a series of 16 booklets . Among of her novels Tales Of The Secret City , and Shadows Of Granada, which were published in Arabic and English . Her novel Tales Of The Secret City ,was considered in Egypt to be a new turn in literature written by female Egyptian authors .

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

1

Safia-Hong explored the house, its rooms and corridors.

Nori accompanied her, then disappeared.

She reached the garden through a stony ladder. He was there, talking to Habeba, the beautiful owner of the house, who was laughing. She approached them, expressing her desire to rent the house in Arabic and Chinese.

Habeba welcomed, Nori didn’t comment. His pale face informed her about his condition. He fell in love with the sweet owner, was she jealous?.

That happened four years ago. She could admit now that she was jealous. Love is stronger than friendship, it comes into existence within seconds, like a storm.

Habeba was perfect, had no faults, looked like dawn, could unlock any heart by her smile.

He was attracted to the wrong woman, he would be totally immersed in pain and delusion.

She didn’t blame him and thought of Kwan- Han-king’s poem which he had written centuries ago in his caducity, announcing that he would never surrender even if he lost his teeth, mouth, legs, arms, and was totally deformed.

It was a false birth, OK, but his bravery was true, he had the right to resist, to refuse surrender.

************

Safia-Hong stayed in Cairo, more than she had estimated, thanks to Nori, Shawkat, and the house.

Her love to the house, was mysterious, and couldn’t be interpreted. But her friendship to them started when they revived her original name. They refused the Chinese custom which made her connect to Hong a foreign name for years, that name was changeable from one country to another, she was Diana-Hong in London, Francois-Hong in Paris, Safia-Hong in Cairo. They accorded that she wouldn’t be happy under a foreign name, Hong was her true self, her homeland, her memory.

Shawkat insisted that the name is an essence, Nori argued, he believed that names were only signboards settled on a road and led to nothing. He surrendered when her face reflected happiness whenever he uttered her original name Hong.

She knew Nori from the hotel, he worked as a violist, she as a designer, creating flowers’ bouquets according to the occasion. Yet their friendship started when she listened to his amazing performance on the violin, his first tune made her hover, astonished, feel pain, as he went deeper, she got rid of the pressures of materiality, felt herself free, he ended it by a tune in which he mixed fire and heaven. As regards Shawkat, she frequently visited his store at Khan-Alkhalily, where she chose vases that would suit the beauty of her flowers.

He explained to her, how he invented caricatures, which the craftsmen in his shop copied on vases, Kohl jars, shell boxes. Their friendship deepened, when his drawings touched her soul.

In spite of her friendship to both of them, they were dissimilar, didn’t like each other from the first glance. She acted as chess players, using art, politics, wisdom, wit, resoluteness, to stop each of them from attempting to cast the other from her life.

She succeeded.

2

Nori visited china in the eighties of the 20th century, before the event of Tiananmen square. He played famous folk music on Erhu and tasted Chinese food, knew a lot about it, so when she invited him for dinner in her house, she knew exactly what he loved, so she prepared the following menu

1. Maotai drink

2. Beijing duck from the kitchen of Shan-dong.

3. Crabs and vegetables from the kitchen of Hwange.

4. Spicy food from the kitchen of Sichuan.

She decorated the place, using a background of Daisy and black Pines.

After setting up everything, she strolled in the garden, waiting for his arrival.

She surpassed the crocodile marble statue, the lake, the Mimosa tree, to rocks, bridges, artificial cascades, and blooming flowers which she had planted.

She worked hardly four years, and was able to bring joy to the place. A mizzle gushed out the mouth of the crocodile statue, poured into the lake and mixed by artificial cascades.

Fruits and flowers were bright.

That was her dreams garden. She had buried the tresses of her dead son under the Mimosa tree, to let his soul inhabit the place.

He died in Tiananmen square, in Beijing 15 years ago.

Before his leave he gave her a kiss, promised her another one after his return, he was aiming to get his freedom, more than million, targeted with him the same goal.

One of his friends survived and told her while informing her about his death

He is lucky, Who didn’t die there, couldn’t tolerate life afterwards

His words consoled her years after. Till last year where she met him in one of the big hotels of Cairo, dinning under the light of crystalline chandelier which were scattered among cords of white flowers, he got married, had children, became an active member in the Chinese communist party, and a representative of Chinese government to discuss ways of co-operation between China and Egypt.

He told her

I am more satisfied now, I hope that Chang was alive, to learn the lesson, to live without impossible ideas, realism and hard work are the best accomplishments in life

3

In his way to Hong, Nori was thinking

How many tales had he narrated about his unique melody?

A tale for every woman.

Habeba listened to it four years ago, while dining in the hotel, she gave him a white rose, he talked to her about a girl who resembled music and who inspired him to compose his melody. He wanted to wear the romantic mask, to hide his craziness, his real opinions, he did that with difficulty, what he really believed in

Never rely on love alone, love by itself couldn’t inspire, to desire the impossible might do.

The tale differed, when he met Hong, he talked to her about a house, which he had left, long ago, to accompany Gypsies, the following was his tale:

He wasn’t alone there, an old father inhabited with him, he used to catch his small hands, words would gather silently at the tips of his tongue, while counting the numerous years between them, a son, having the age of a grandson, a fairy woman gave him birth, he was puzzled, didn’t remember the night of his marriage or his wife. Events strolled in his foggy memory, making a faint light, a dim spot.

The violist discovered, when it was destined to him to leave the house, that he spent time there without a name or age.

Except for famine, he would never have left it.

His old father was out, sun arose twice, without his return.

He played on the violin, he was afraid to leave at first, then his desire to keep his life overwhelmed his fears. He opened the back door, found gypsies there, setting up tents. His presence astonished them, they thought it was an abandoned house.

They gave him a glass of milk before he lost his consciousness, they considered his being alive a miracle, which surpassed the miracle of their continuous existence for centuries. They asked him about his name and story, he couldn’t understand them, his father rarely spoke to him.

He recalled no vocabulary, or name, his old father disappeared leaving no words. Nori played the violin, the gypsies circled around him and danced, the violin facilitated their communication, he loved gypsies, a song settled in the heart of each, a song about a house which they were dreaming of. When he learnt their secret language, he described in details the house which he had left, the furniture, the bedclothes, the tablecloths, the taps.

They listened astonishingly, as if he was narrating about a folkish hero, not made of flesh and blood, but of stones, windows, doors. They asked him, were you happy in this house, had your old father loved you? are you sure that you didn’t want to return back. Returning back was impossible, not because of his love to gypsy life, not due to the huge distance or many years which elapsed, but he wasn’t sure that the house which he had left was the same as the one he was narrating about, and made of it a song repeated by gypsies in moony nights.

The story touched Hong, made her reflect.

4

What is that? a demonstration?

Shawkat saw nothing except a queue of awaiting cars, he returned to his car, took a paper, a pencil, tried to draw what he couldn’t see yet.

He borrowed faces that he saw in the first pages of newspapers days before, they belonged to socialists, Naserians, communists, liberals, radicals, all were competing, and getting ready for the forthcoming presidential elections. He drew them entering a dark tunnel, he draw himself holding the hands of Hong, and standing away from the tunnel.

The caricature reflected his secret thoughts, his upset, deepest ideas. He did this unintentionally.

He was like a big laugh, desired to continue like this, in spite of weeping several times in the last month.

He