Excerpts from " Gametes" Book

Facts from The Presence of The Imagination

 

Author Prof: Ahmad Abdel Aal

 

 

 

 

 

In The University of Pictures

 

          There is nothing there than the pictures, coloured or white and black photograph, oil pictures, or painting drawn with different pencils for characters from different epochs, religious men, explorers from the orient and the occident, social reformers, judges, poets. Physicists, philosopher, painters, sufists, musicians, inventors and their inventions, cinema stars, international imposters, successive state presidents like the succession of day and night, rulers with their long necks under the guillotines, rulres killed with shells of bullets shot fearlessly, orators, international fortune tellers and thousands and thousands of pictures for ordinary people which the spectator know nothing about, save for their eyes which always show pleasures or distress which stamped their consciences in those times at which they were part of their people. Attached to these strange halls are other parlours devoted to pictures of known and extinct animals or animates absolutely unknown. you may see insects magnified thousand folds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Garden of the Statues

 

The custodians are used to change the locations of the statues from time to time.

This increased the strangeness of the situations when darkness falls. Once I visited it at night as I used to. It seems that they went too far in changing the locations this Time, I found the statue of the terrible man with the iron fist opposite to the statue of a little girl holding two loaves. Close to them was the statue of the man of the missing blow about to strike with his axe an old man Learning on   a staff, extreme chaos displaying neither logic nor good taste.

          I reorganized the locations of the statues again. I put the old man Learning on the staff beside the little girl holding the two loaves. I finished late at night and sat to have some rest, contemplating the two statues in anew existentialist relationship.

 

 

 

 

The Bicycle

 

          Some people were open – eyed that morning, struck by successive surprises, the return of his old activity, the terrible speed, but with their eyes on the their heads, they saw the man with his bicycle take- off from the ground to the sky of the city. They saw him in the space heading towards the eastern horizon, with his faint – coloured clothes swollen, and filled with air. They saw him engrossed in driving his bicycle occupied by nothing right or left, nothing of him remained outside him. All of them had heard in those amazing moments some of his ballads, songs and philosophical words. They heard all that magnified thousands of times, and the echo is repeated all over the capital of the country. The man continued to cycle in the space until he disappeared bit by bit like a tiny dot moving in the eastern horizon of the city.

 

 

 

The Pains of the Old Eagle

 

          When it was noon, the wind had got quite away from the mountain .

          The old eagle started to move his wings right and left, looked about to say farewell for the last time to his old throne, then he was flinged in the atmosphere like an old torn out newspaper thrown on an endless space.

          He turned to the northern side of the valley. The young river seemed to flow quietly and  majestically but sooner the attention of the eagle was attracted to something else on the horizon … a dark violent dreadful storm the heart of which broke out in thunder and lightining,  storm he never saw alike all his life in the atmosphere. The old eagle murmured Oh , my God! What made the wind come back early contrary to her habit? What happened to her in her daily journey, that made her return in such an aweful wrath?  Was he mistaken although he was careful to prepare for all probabilities. In just few moments the tales of his ancestors came to his mind, the young river, the elegant gazelle, and that dignified stand on his rocky throne at the top the mountain.

          The eagle was in the atmosphere at a distance of few meters from the rock. He tried to come back and land on it again, but unfortunately the vanguard of the roaring storm has reached him by that time, and pulled him to finish off the remaining strength of his wings, then pulled him again, throwing him on the western side of the mountain.

          In fact he tried desperately to gather all his skills, recalled all the tales of his ancestors in similar situations to save him self, but it is all over, nothing came to rescue him. In her violent rage, the wind disregarded his old long company dragged him, turning and turning him, throwing him into her ruthless heart.

          The storm calmed dawn after sometime, The wind came back to take her daily slumber in the big cave, and the rocky throne was empty in that sad evening.  

 

 

 

Beneficiaries Society of his Sleeping

 

          Importunity started by hundreds of weary people or others who wish to be increased, even by those he had never known before, some of them gave him his coloured and clear features photographs some of them gave him their (C.V) with all minute details, to memorize all this in his subconscious before he sleeps.

          As a result of this state of affairs, traffic got mixed up in the streets around the department in which he works, crowdedness, tea and sandwich sellers, and differences among waiting people who came from east and west of the country.

          The man became more weary than before but he never saw a dream about himself personally. All the dreams and their abundant output are for other people. He tried desperately but of course he could not do any thing. The matter was out of his hand. Dreams germinated and lives prospered, and soon a real society was established under the name of "Beneficiaries Society of his sleeping"

 

Curriculum Vitae of a Stone

 

          Some thirsty people came and digged a deep well there.

I became cold with the water at the bottom of the well. I had been watching the movement of buckets going up and down, but one desert evilish day some of them threw a boy in the bottom of the well. He was a beautiful boy with a compassionate and patient heart.

          I listened to his innocent Knowing supplication. One of the signs of his gracious presence near me at the bottom of the well is that the world of dreams and predictions was open to me. I dreamt about the coming years, I became knowledgeable about the locations and destinies of all the stones of this world. I saw the fortified castles which will be built, I saw palaces, bridges and towers built with concrete cement east and west. I saw the stones a tremendous weapon in the hands of blessed faithful children in palestine while supporters became rare and dear.

 

The Throne Which Got

High Abruptly

 

          In this morning we have an appointment with Belqis the queen of Sheba and her  throne which we regaled specially for this purpose. In this morning we have an appointment for which the facts of the past time meet with the facts of modern technology, and most of you are familiar with facts of picture transmission from ground transmission stations or from satellites that roam the spacious space, but the substantial fact remain one and some Generations of Muslim scientist continued to be preoccupied with the problem of the picture and its devolution between the mundane world and the metaphysical world. From my personal experience, I would say that is the issue of the attendant mundane world against its ideal image, and the ideal image shall not come to being, occupy a space or devaluate without the power of science. This science could be gnosis embodied within the folds of the whole life of the Gnostic. It could also be one of the disciplines of mathematics which become applicable through material media whether metals, liquids or otherwise. No doubt that the dimensions of the image attendant in the two worlds differ in terms of the ins and outs levels. Ladies and gentlemen what we are tackling today is a transmission that responds to that primary characteristic, the characteristic of disappearing in the parallel worlds. The dimensions here are related to place, time and feelings in a corporeal picture similar to the substance of dreams.

 

          Ladies and gentlemen ; within a few moments we shall see a woman sit on her throne while the harmonic of your time sneak furtively in the folds of her new dress, and every thing in and on her shall glow under the light of the sun of your country.

 

          After awhile the edifice of your time shall be demolished, and Beligs shall come prancing out of the dreams of the men and women of your time, and she shall enter from the seven gates at one and the same time. Do not let your vision go astray. Let everyone of you look from his / her angle of vision, and you will see the unity of her self at this time at the throne, in the center of that open space.

 

 

           

Atear in the Eye of Imagination

 

          Yearning for them overwhelmed him but with out avail, the eye of his imagination became closed and unable to look here and there as in old days. What had passed can no longer be brought back after that day in which he decided to leave. He remained the rest of his life imprisoned there, his conscience is heavily loaded with torture and agony avoiding the blaming looks everywhere.

 

          An innocent hobby led this quiet good man to where he does not know, and all he has to do is to be quite patient. and to pay the price of his trespassing unknowingly – a highly sensitive area in the collective mind of the people of his town and its remote peripheries. It is true that every thing shall remain secret, save for what their eyes disclose on the streets and public places, This is the matter which he alone knows.

 

This is the Path of Beauty

Oh ! Zeinab

 

          An autmn passed followed by summer. Years passed, that house collapsed and its remains no longer exist on the ground.  People forgot the whole story. Many times they cross with their animals and their vehicles the remanents of that old house where some old acacia Senegal trees still stand seeing and hearing as they always did. Then that site became a large market. The streets of the market are noisy with the voices of sellers and automobile horns. That market is flooded with neon lights at night where large dazzling advertisement sign boards are in hot competition.

 

A few individuals of the sixth generation continued to look, at dawn, for a shadow of a gazelle running between water and greenness on those hillocks.

 

 

 

 

Two Dark – Green Gardens

 

          They are quite sedate and solemn, and people around them are very confused about what they hear and see of their conditions … but know no explanation. Agitations of disturbing  news weaved tens of imaginary tales about the old man and his wife. It was said that they found elexsir. Another remour mentioned that they possessed a yellow rare book many generations were not able to find. Sincere people around them attributed the matter to the tranquility of piety and certainty. They begotted their first child in their second age. The infant was beautiful. The edges of his eyelids were dark-black. Whoever see him in his cradle prattling with the world of his parents and looking in wonder and innocence to meddlesome people, loves him. It is here specifically that the people of Khartoum couldn't bear the matter any more. The earth was over-loaded with tales and rumours, The city tottered and reeled to its right side, and the water of the Nile spilled and flooded houses and shops.

 

          The couple tried to explain the situation to the people, but where is that language which can express the beauty of their present state, They preferred to give berief glimpses about Khartoum with its three towns during the 1930s of the last century, and that world which was lost, and the other one whose picture is still oscillating, and the river of songs which emerges from the cloak of the night to accompany the Nile which is still flowing up to this moment. Of course people laugh at such idle talk, and this increases their perplexity and confusion.

 

 

 

 

From the Introduction of the Flower Book

 

Birds are one of the nations whose homelands are distributed in the regions of the earth. They migrate in groups. Their certainty is instinctive. Their livelihoods are predestined. Trees are also one of the nations whose species are distributed all over the territories of the earth. Their seeds may migrate with the birds. Their certainty is instinctive. Their livelihoods are predestined, and they extract their livelihood from the atmosphere surrounding them and from the different elements of the soil.

 

          Trees have seasons of poetry and prose. Drizzle is the season of poetry, and rain is the season of prose to trees, and the blossoms are the brides in the recurrent meetings of the seasons.

 

 

 

 

 

The Captive

 

          I left my office after being released from my captivity. I resigned everything, property, relatives, books of war and great battles, and preferred to cruise the land of god. I sincenly  say that I was found after being lost, and here I am trafficking from town to town asking and waiting for the horses of reinforcement with their riders, banners and loud utterance of " God is Great … God is Great".   

 

 

 

The Missing Scene

 

          The picture was complete inside the pavilion. Great  Sufi dignitaries occupied their places on the lined seats. whose arrangement was set by unique sense of beauty, circle after circle of seats quietude, elegance and a gentle breeze beside the confluence of the two Niles. Annifair smiles welcoming the gathering. A rosary between the fingers of El- sheikh Ejjneid. Its old beads drop one after the other gently. The Magnate Abu Median is engaged in a dialogue with E Sheikh Abdul Salam Ennabulsi. Sheikh Abdulgadir Ejjaylani the Magnate is talking pleasantly to Esheik Muhammad wad abdulsadig, the man of the mundara, the reverned Al- Hassan El Mirghani, the man of Attaka, Essheikh Ibrahim El-Kabbashi and agroup of reverend Arakeen sheikhs. Esheik Hamad Ennil points to one of the disciples to rekindle the embers of the cencers, Essheik Ibrahim Eddisougi is engaged in tidying up the flower bouquet opposite to him. Essheik El- Mursi Abu El-Abbas beside El- Imam El- Bousiri listening to the speeches of Essheikh Abdulaziz Addabg while Essheik yaquot El- Arshi look thoughtfully to an old map of Greater Sudan. The Great Sheik Muhyadin Ibn Arabi is scrutinizing some of the graceful remarks of El- Hussein Ibn Mansour El Hallaj. Rabia Al Adawia among gathering of Sudanese female sheikhs, then tens of individuals who have refined lastes, passions and Knowledges- withheld from those who do not deserve them – occupied their places at the background of the scene which is perfectly prepared.    

 

 

 

 

Under The Focus of Light

 

 

          The man asked me importunately not to be bored as the matter is vital in his view. According to his-elaborate statements once more- since the human race got the first settlement, and was able to stand on his feet and search for his livelihood or wars, god facilitated to him an outlel for his concerns, misgiving, and mysterious doubts and suspicions, and these vermin’s- as the man says- and rest fall the small beings which we see moving in green and dry grasses, crack of the  ground and calices of flowers and roses on sea shores and river banks. All these vermin’s are nothing but expression of people’s mysterious suspicions and desires. Whenever the chests swarm with their delusions, these craters increase with their different geners and species. The man said without hesitation. The psychological history of the human kind on the level what the of what the eyes disclose and the chests hide, has a corresonding counter pant which is the natural history disseminated in the generes and species of these vermin’s and those miserable creatures in the air, on the surface of the earth and in the  derths of seas and oceans. Some of them are very minute and can not be seen by the eye, and these represent the hidden polytheism, there in the core of the heart

.

          The man continued. :- If it seemed to us that some vermin’s are strange and unfamiliar, we have to understand that they are delusions and misgivings of people from other cultures, and that we, the inhabitants of this part of the world, do not find difficulty in identifying our delusions in the form of these simple and clear designs of some of these organisms.

 

 

 

 

At The End of The Western Street

 

          At the end of the narrow western street – and the evening was fully fledged. I saw something like tens of tribes unknown to day … but I can’t be dead sure about that I saw rivers meandering and roaring, and their water glittering at every meander … but I can’t be dead sure about that I saw clouds, mist and people bowing low entering ruins and exiting from other ruins… but I can’t be dead sure about that.

 

 

 

 

A navigating City

 

          The navigating city started to split the froth of the sea… between fear and hope. They went out and mounted the sea afraid of sand …. And here they hold their meetings every morning in their navigating city searching for the truth … but fearing the storming wind and waves which may come from everywhere.

 

 

On the Back of a lion

 

          My old fear of dogs which exhausted my soul and spoilt my life was incarnated to me in this creature which I was riding on its back. It is not a lion but it is my fear. I contemplated my fear in taste, odour, texture, sound and an old animal strength emerging from the cave of my soul. In these decisive moments, I confronted everything in my self and I am  liberated and became healthy. It is the grace of God that he delivered to me all the creatures of my fear in my hands embodied in this strange creature.

 

 

 

 

A drop of Water

 

          In fact the two men did not meet after that bitter night. I didn’t find in the recollections of that faubourg anything which prove that they met, even by chance… Consider, God mercy you, how things respond when their names are mentioned. A drop of sweet water continued to come out from a brass water pipe in constant tune for a decade. Sweet discourse grew with the tunes of its drops, and when the discourse emanating from these drops was transported to the Dead Sea with its abominable salinity, bitter nesses and bitter nesses were discharged profusely from their meeting place. From that time on, every thing became barren … yes, the names of things embody the essence of their effective existence. In that remote evening destinies permitted a look of glory after which a sea of salt stretched over that beloved meeting place.

 

 

 

 

 

In the Morning of Malik’s Arrest

 

From the Greater University, Scholars moved in a solemn procession. They knocked the door of the house from which the mother had departed a few months ago. The  revered scholars talked to Malik in deep sorrow in the name of the conscience of the whole nation. They acknowledged his favour,  the deepness of his know ledges, and the importance of his studies in the science of light… these studies which he conducted in the darkness of those abominable castles.

          They confirmed to him and to their selves that no one can initiate central ideas in the science of light unless he lives in darkness with in darkness similar to the darkness which enclosed him in the prison for years. They ended that meeting by offering him the professor ship in the science of light.

          Malik thanked them and tried to explain to them that the questions of light may have no bearing to his painful experience … and the substance of his intimate experience is that he solicited the Name of God the Almighty “ Ennour”. Unfortunately the great scholars with their highly specialized disciplines did not pay attention to “ Malik’s  distinction between light and "Ennour" An idea came to his mind to ask about the possibility of searching for his beautiful green box which was pundered by the soldiers nineteen years ago, but in that meeting a sudden light emerged, and at the same time the eyes of the representatives of the tribes of vast Sudan glittered … they were flooded with light, Hisseinat Arabs, Hawwawir , Dinka, Bija, Danagla, Messeria, Watawit, Jalin, Hamaran, Ababda, and Fur.

 

 

 

Fatima The Enchanted

 

          Evening came and Fatima the enchanted departed. She disappeared in the dark night, and started her great tour. As for them, their generations had recurred in the lobbies of time, but out of faithfulness to the memory of Fatima the enchanted, they didn't alter the scenes of her memory save for very little, and so do souls. Whenever a flock of birds hovers over that place, people talk again about Fatima, Some of them sadly and some others smiling. Their legacy from Fatima was a hidden garden in the hearts of men, women boys and children, generation after generation. As for Fatima, she went too far in her great tour through deserts and oasis where the desert jinn (demons) small thieves and some lovers whom love had distressed, and their groans were swallowed by the deserts of that time. All of them spend a part of the night with her in search of cure from their ailments, some of them came back and some of them repented.

 

Messages From The Homeland of Writing

 

          Do you remember the day of your first visit to the university of pictures? Have you seen how lively their picture had been, those who made the history of picture in the world, poets, sufists, architects, painters, photographers, physicists, logicians, small magicians, perfumers, and tens of those who shifted, without their will, to several professions and situations, all of them were harmed by allegiance to the profession, and denial of small talk although its time has come, all of them, save for those in divine love.

 

Prisoners for Ever

 

          Pots and bottles whose mouths were closed tightly had been prisons, inside each one of them was a revolutionary or a rebel for centuries and ages. After intercession and appeals the first founder pardoned them provided that their forms will change.. some of them intermarried with human beings producing anew hybrid, the city dwellers. Some of them were destined to live in the picture of birds, cats, foxes or in the picture of another creature from those other miserable creatures. Everybody here knows very well the pot or the bottle in which he/she spent centuries before the conditional pardon.

          One of them whom I trust in the soundness of his mind told me, that these cats, which are as many as the pots, are all picture that have changed after the conditional pardon, and this nice white cat with soft hair, beautiful face, black eye pupils, and that black cat with coarse hair, crooked tail, uneasy movements, jumping from a window to a wall, for example, are no more than two of the transformed pictures that still live until today.

 

          Facts and fallacies which gave the inhabitants of this city an unequivocal  identity, and this very identity is the targedly which is deeply – rooted in their consciences, but what strikes you in their discourse is this copious love, the reverential words, and that desperate attachment when the name of the first founder is mentioned intentionally or incidentally.  The first founder who passed his judgement and transformed the pictures then departed for ever with the stamps of judgments and transformations. That wise man told me that this mewing rising from the different parts of the city day and night is no more than mere appeals which continued from centuries ago … appeals for another pardon to liberate the imprisoned pictures in cats. But there is no response because the first founder had departed for ever with the stamps of pardon and transformation of pictures.

 

          It is true that these pots and bottles is the original reason which cooled dawn my determination to leave this city more than one time. I had postponed my departure, and here I am      chinging to stones and pebbles, spending my day walking about the city, scrutinizing the mysterious shapes produced by the erosion of the painting on the walls of their houses, palaces and shops, writing what was written, and some time draw what was drawn. I go back to my house carrying my harvest for the day contemplating comparing, and searching for a link between these pictures and remnants on the one hand, and their new lives which are transformed in these pictures on the other hand.