Samara Around

By Omar Hussein Siraj

The author of this novel argues that the Ancient Egyptian witches from more than three thousand years realized the thin thread that binds all things and melts all beings into a cosmic unity. They used the human emotions with the practice of witchcraft as means to communicate with the spiritual entities which live in the world of Haven since both are of one origin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Jun 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781543757590

Omar Hussein Siraj

Omar Hussein Siraj is a Saudi novelist that represents a distinctive creative direction in the field of the contemporary Arab novel. In addition to preserving the technical conditions of the narration, he tries to explore other fields, uses and presents them in a suggestive narrative form that matches the rhythm of the modern novels. What it offers makes the reader feel a new meaning to life, or makes reading another taste, and more related to the endless world of creativity.

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Copyright © 2020 by Omar Siraj.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

CHAPTER 1

B efore you start any conversation, you should introduce yourself first; this is one of the first lessons of the art of communication. So as a reader of this diary, let me say that I am Rushdi Galal, and I used to work as a tourist guide. I led tourist groups to cities and regions where ancient Egyptian historical and archeological sites are available. I also informed them about the ancient Egyptians’ cultural heritage.

At thirty-two years old, I graduated from the faculty of arts, department of history, Cairo University in 2008. Then I took several training courses in my quest to become a tourist guide studying full time to pursue the profession.

I am fluent in Arabic, English, and French, fond of history and geography, and constantly developing my knowledge in ancient Egyptian civilization topics, which I share with tourists.

During my long and arduous research in ancient Egyptian civilization, it was as if I was utterly thirsty while crossing a vast desert, interspersed with some oases. These oases lay at a distance within the desert. I drank from its spring’s water and sat in the shade of its palms. I managed to continue until I happened on a new oasis.

Ancient Egypt’s original references were insignificant, and their episodes did not specifically relate to each other. It may be possible to know something about one aspect of an era while difficult to understand other aspects of the same era. Some aspects had either disappeared forever, or their secrets remained buried yet unrevealed.

Everyone who knew me agreed on my athletic strength, strong structure, chestnut hair, and my charming, smiling face. People also testified that I shared information in an easy and simple way and that I possessed the ability to interact and socialize with others, including tourist groups of all cultures.

Also, I am free from political, religious, and social prejudice and intolerance. However, my work was not always full of joy and fun as I often faced many difficulties and trouble due to rest times, lack of consistency, and off-season unemployment.

I was silently sitting with Bayabit on the balcony, overlooking the building’s entrance garden and the small side street in the new city Thebes in Luxor. Amazed, I asked Bayabit, What could Umm Saber have meant when she struggled to speak on her deathbed, saying, ‘Samara around … Samara around’? I don’t even know who Samara is!

Bayabit nodded and, shaking his head, replied, OK.

"I apologize for not explaining to you how my relationship with Umm Saber developed. Two years ago, I decided to move to Luxor, the Hundred Doors City, or the City of Sun, previously known as Thebes, capital of Egypt during the Pharaonic era.

I was so enthusiastic about Luxor as it includes nearly a third of the world’s monuments along its eastern and western banks!

I selected New Thebes for my residence, being a new neighborhood in Luxor, and for its cleanliness, roads network, infrastructure, hospitals, food and nonfood stores, and libraries.

I had two important advantages in New Thebes; the first was my newcomer status identical to the rest of its inhabitants, and the possibility of living far from my workplace to feel the separation that I wished between my work and private life.

My personality enabled me to get to know many residents in the city. One of my new acquaintances was Awadin, my building’s doorman, with whom I quickly got along.

Awadin encouraged me to try Umm Saber’s services in reading fortunes. This old woman, who was about eighty years old, knocked on the door of my apartment accompanied by Awadin, offering her services.

After spreading her small shells on a carton full of sand, she spoke while sitting on the carpet of my living room, Your face is friendly. Still your heart seems sad and worried. Many questions occupy your mind, and Eve confuses you. You think she’s superficial, only concerned by marriage and children, taking men to reach her goals. Men are just like accessories she wears and replaces whenever she likes.

Bayabit spread his feet to both sides and said, OK!

I resumed my story.

"Umm Saber repeated her visits to read my horoscope every time she was in New Thebes. She would hit the small shells or move them randomly, examining and interpreting their form. However, the horoscope wasn’t specifically related to the future, for it was sometimes a mixture of the past and the present.

"I understood that what Umm Saber was doing was superstition, and an attempt to convince me that she could reveal the hidden. I was looking for entertainment and spending my idle time, my depths imbued with myths, legends, fake championships, childhood, and teenage tales. Even though some of what she said was true. It was as if her appeal were honest, or perhaps there were things Umm Saber could see with her internal power as Awadin said. I once asked her to reveal the secret of knowing some of her clients’ internal affairs. She answered, ‘No, Mr. Rushdi, the masters will hurt me if I reveal their secrets, and they can harm you, too.’ I asked Umm Saber about her residence. She replied that she lived in a graveyard on the West Bank with members of a destitute family, who agreed to share their housing for a certain fee.

To my inquiry about how she learned to read horoscopes, she said, ‘I asked the funeral temple workers in the West Bank, so they advised me to live in an unoccupied grave for two months. There, a god slave taught me the ways and secrets of horoscope reading using shells.’

I repeated with astonishment, A god slave?

Yes, Mr. Rushdi, said she.

Temples’ priests and god slaves no longer exist. They were here thousands of years ago.

I thought for a little and then decided to test Umm Saber, by saying, Well, what’s the name of this slave?

Umm Saber, visibly uncomfortable, declined to answer. I went on. OK, but how did you learn from this slave? Have you seen or heard her?

Don’t make fun of me, Mr. Rushdi. I consider you as my son.

Umm Saber fell silent for a while and then continued. Temples’ priests and slaves have different words—not everyone can understand it.

Do you mean they’re from the jinn? I asked her with increasing curiosity.

Maybe I really don’t know who they are.

Umm Saber was absent for a long time after that day. I asked Awadin, who confirmed that he hadn’t seen her either. So I asked him to accompany me to her residence in the graves. He agreed, and there we found her repeating, Samara around several times; then she passed away.

On our way back, Awadin asked me, How would Samara sleep in your apartment? We are Upper-Egypt citizens, Mr. Rushdi, your neighbors will never accept that!

Bayabit ate a peanut he found in front of him and said, OK!

Well, Bayabit, I commented, I cannot say for sure if you are happy with what I’m saying or not. You only keep repeating OK. The truth is that Umm Saber’s words, ‘Samara around’ are very confusing because what she meant is that a woman named Samara will come to Luxor soon. But who is Samara? How can I know her? I don’t know.

Bayabit suddenly shouted, The bell!

I smiled. You never forget your stomach, Bayabit. Awadin must have brought your dinner.

I headed toward the door and took Bayabit’s dinner from Awadin and placed it in front of Bayabit, saying, Come on, greedy, eat your delicious dinner while we finish our conversation.

Bayabit tipped his head toward his meal of apples and dried red dates and began devouring it with gusto like the true vegetarian he was.

Now we must think about how to get to know Samara, I mused. When she will reach Luxor? From where she will come? Which flight, train, or bus? Despite these unanswered questions, I feel that I will recognize and communicate with Samara by some means since Umm Saber must be sure I’d meet Samara in the end.

CHAPTER 2

I stood at the front of the bus, holding a small microphone before a group of tourists coming from the United States of America and started talking to them.

"My name is Rushdi Galal, your tour guide, and I’m happy to welcome you to Luxor, where we will visit Luxor and Karnak temples and watch the light and sound show. After that, we will return to the Jollyville Hotel for a little rest then have dinner in an oriental atmosphere. Please do not hesitate to ask questions concerning the information shared during our visit to these two sites. As you can see through the windows of the bus, this is Luxor, the capital of Luxor governorate in Southern Egypt. The Nile River divides Luxor into two parts, the East and West banks.

"Luxor’s founding city, known previously as Thebes, dates back from the era of the fourth dynasty to the era of the middle state. It was nothing more than a group of simple and neighboring villages used as a cemetery to bury the province’s rulers.

Thebes later became the capital of Egypt in the eleventh era. Amenhotep the First is the pharaoh who united the country again after the chaos in Egypt during the first era. The city of Thebes remained the Egyptian state capital until the Persians abolished the pharaohs’ rule.

I gestured toward the windows of the bus.

"Most of Egypt’s pharaohs were interested in building temples for the various ancient Egyptian deities. The most important was the Temple of Amon-Ra on the East Bank of the Nile. However, they considered the temples immortal, so they built them from heavy stones. However, pharaohs’ palaces and inhabitants’ houses were built of mud bricks as they were not eternal. That is why there is little left of those while the temples remain.

Ancient Egyptians considered the Nile’s East Bank the home of life. There they lived and went to worship in temples. They considered the West Bank the house of the dead, where they used to build their graves. So we find the Kings’ Valley on the West Bank with a few temples. As for the large temples, including Karnak, they were in the city of the neighborhoods on the East Bank of the Nile."

A woman in a corner seat interrupted me by raising her hand and asking whether we are planning to visit the dead as well.

Passengers laughed, so I focused my gaze on her impressive Eastern beauty. Her delicate features added a certain charm to her appearance. With almond-colored eyes, thick shiny brown hair, and wide eyebrows, she looked like a teenager.

Perhaps it is an occasion to get acquainted with the members of this tourist group, I replied. My lady, what is your name?

My name is Layal Qassim, she answered, somewhat hesitantly.

Yes, Mrs. Qassim, we will visit the dead. By this I mean the West Bank of the Nile, where funerary temples such as the Temple of Ramses II and the Kings’ Valley, where the tomb of King Tutankhamun and other kings were found. We will also visit the monastery of the city of workers who were building the tombs of the pharaohs.

I sat next to the driver for a little rest and gazed at the flowing river. I felt as if the river wanted to say something mysterious like the mystery of Umm Saber’s phrase before her death, which returned to my thoughts and puzzled me again.

I silently wondered,