The Red Hijab

The Red Hijab

“Hey, hey wait please don’t leave please… Rehab… Rehab….” Mourad was shouting these words in the middle of the city square wondering how futile his words are and watching quietly the moving image of a young girl going away from him and disappearing in the crowd. Mourad stood helpless with a small paper on which he had written all his love for Rehab. Rehab, a young Egyptian girl whose eyes looked like evenings in a dark forested land. Her eyes were all Mourad’s wish. He used to look deep in her eyes the way we look at the sunsets every evening. Mourad was a poet, a worshipper of evenings but Rehab was a dawn, full of awakening. But now all Murad had was the memory of Rehab leaving forever for a distant land, a land from where there was no return.

Rehab was walking on the Al-Husseini street of her beloved town of Port-Said. She had some strong awakening in her personality but her eyes were always silent and deep. It felt as if her entire face was morning song but her eyes were soft lullabies. In the sky of starry nights, she was the northern star, fixed at one single point. She had a big smile which she carried with pride. More than anything else she was more Arabic in appearance than anyone else. She never liked Mourad or any other man. Working in the Al-Adil software company as an engineer was an ideal job for her. She was workaholic. She never cared about the revolutions and upheavals in her country. For her she was her own country independent and sovereign.

When she reached home, she slammed the door and the thoughts of Mourad with it. She saw her mother preparing for her meal. her father was dead and it was all on her to sustain this small family of two women. 

“Ommy, hurry up, we have to leave by tomorrow.”

“yes” her mother replied in the hardest voice. 

“I can understand.” Rehab said.

Rehab then went closer and said, “we had no option Ommy, we have to leave the city and go to Cairo. I will be getting a really nice salary. Even brother Ismail will be there for us.”

She was trying to convince her mother and perhaps herself at the same time. To leave the city where she lived for all her little life was harder for her. She never found love in her own city. Her city was her love. The city of the sea. Just like the sea even her city was unaware about her depths. she opened the windows of her room and saw her beautiful city for the last time. The brightness of the street lights and the northern breeze of the sea touched her face. She felt like even the city was crying and placing her hand on her cheek, saying goodbye. Sometimes, your city is bigger than your country. 

The next morning she stood naked in front of the mirror. She wore her Hijab and then she started wearing her clothes. Hijab was neither a religious symbol nor an imposition in her life. For her hijab was a part of her body. She always felt handicapped without this strange hijab around her face. Mourad on the other hand never liked her hijab and he always had this little desire to see Rehab without a Hijab. Rehab and her mother stood in front of their house. The regular prayer was going on in the beach mosque. In those heavenly vibrations of azan they bid farewell to their house. Rehab was walking towards the car in which all their life was packed. She gazed at the door for the last time and saw her little image dancing with her father. At that very moment she became elder than what she was. She sat in the car and she closed her eyes as she never wanted to see the departure from her city. She had decided that she would open her eyes and her new life in the new city.

“Assalamualaikum” Ismail greeted and opened the door for them. Rehab stood in front of her building questioning herself “will this great city embrace me and my little dreams?” they all arranged their affairs as Ismail was a small businessman in the big city. He already had men to arrange all the things they have brought. Within two days the apartment was arranged. Rehab called her boss that she came in Cairo and she would be joining the Cairo Head office immediately. Everything happened as planned with precision. Rehab slept with her alarm clock as the next day was her first day in the office.

 Cairo was too big for her. The might of this great city was invading her existence. Her office was on 11th floor. She saw her desk and started working after meeting some of her bosses. Even she wondered how quickly she adapted herself to this new environment. She looked at the window and saw this magnificently amazing city which for her was nothing but a foreign land in her own country. She had a partner another junior engineer but her desk was empty. There was no one. She started working on her computer. Life in Cairo was just like the software in her computer she wondered how an engineer’s life becomes a software at one point with no emotions. Just some commands and outputs. She was lost in her screen as she became one with her work. She became one with a monotonous never ending silence of her work. This unstoppable flow of kyes on her keyboard gave a rhythm to her little world. Even though it was silence, it was rythematic. 

“so you are that new great working girl from Port-Said. What’s the good news from the Suez canal?” Rehab was shocked by this speedy and loud voice who slapped her silence. She waited for some seconds to recover. And replied. “yes”. She saw this young girl with no smile on her face. What disturbed Rehab was her dark red Hijab which looked different from everyone else’s. her face was brighter. Rehab was stunned by the seductive appearance of this youth. Though her body was covered from top to bottom she had some freedom in her appearance which Rehab never ever imagined. 

“My name is Fatima. How unfortunate girl are you. You have to work with someone like me.” She laughed. But Rehab was pointless. Perhaps she met some engineer for the first time who wasn’t a software. Fatima was a fare girl and in her dark red hijab she looked brighter. “seems like you are just another engineer” Fatima said. 

“what do you mean?” Rehab asked 

“I mean you are boring, just like the others here. I would rather work in a graveyard then this place. Just look how dead these people are. “Martyred slaves of time” as Charles Baudelaire writes.” 

Rehab started looking around and saw all the blank faces with their eyes pointed towards the computer screen. She realised how regimented they are. She looked at Fatima again and saw a deep sense of rebellion in her. A spark which can lead to a giant fire. It felt as if in this big room of over 50 people Fatima was the only one alive. 

“well, now you have to work with me so please wake yourself up ok. I don’t work with the sleeping people”

Rehab was still under the zone of Fatima’s aura. She started liking working with her. Fatima was not only an extremely sensual woman but also an excellent engineer. Rehab always enjoyed her company. They both laughed a lot every day in the office. Rehab got something she always wanted after the demise of her father. A Friend.

That day Rehab was told to go to the last floor before leaving as there was a problem with the accounts department. Rehab always wanted to see the city from the terrace of this big commercial building. She never had guts to walk towards the terrace. She resolved the small computer problem in the accounts department and she began to leave as it was already the hour of bidding farewell to her beloved friend Fatima. Fatima’s desk was empty. There was no one. She asked at the reception and she came to know that Fatima already left. It was strange as she would never go home without saying “goodbye my imprisoned friend”. 

“Anyway” Rehab said to herself and started walking. She always envied to go and see the terrace so instead of going down she went up in the lift. She entered the terrace and what she saw was unimaginable. She saw Fatimah standing alone at the very tip of the terrace. She had taken her hijab off and her hijab was tied on the antenna. The wind was blowing like a breath of a demon. Her hijab was waiving so fast that it was making a constant noise. She saw Fatima’s hair and for a moment she thought of those smooth waves of the beaches of her city. Her hair and the blowing air were making love together. A silent music was running through them. Fatima’s hair were seducing the breeze. 

Rehab was speechless. She had never seen anything like this. So free and so liberated. Suddenly Fatima started taking her jacket off. Her breasts were wide open and she threw her jacket away embracing the majestic wind. Fatima sat down and she took her small bottle of wine along with her Cuban cigar. She lit up the cigar and blew the smoke in front of her. From her eyes it looked like the entire city was fading in that small smoke. In the middle of the city where women carry their cages with them. She was worshipping her own freedom. Exposing her body to the air. Rehab saw a women smoke and drink for the first time. that too the woman who was her only companion in this strange city. 

Fatima turned her head and saw Rehab. She looked like someone who just woke up from a nightmare. She called Rehab to come and sit with her. Rehab was clueless and frozen. A lonely girl lost in the circumstances of her life. Fatima took her hand and made her sit beside herself. 

“don’t panic my fellow prisoner” she said.

“many years ago there was a wealthy merchant, Rehab. He had a parrot in a cage. However that wealthy man was very enthusiastic about travelling. He loved his parrot so much that he travelled the world and carried the parrot with him. That was the most unfortunate bird in the world. The one who flied everywhere on the planet but was always in the cage. I am that bird Rehab. I am that bird. I have flied many times but I was always in the cage.”

“I thought I know you very well.” Rehab said. “but you are a different woman Fatima. You are not like normal Arab woman. Even when you are in a cage you are free. Unlike the others who have horizons to fly but they prefer being in their own prison. You are definitely an exception to the Arabs.”

“yes, because I am not even Arab.” Fatima added. And these words gave more curiosity to the mind of Rehab which was already in a mental shock.

“what..! stop kidding”

“I am not kidding, I am Persian. I am actually a Shia Muslim. That’s why my name is Fatima. Somewhere in history this ancient country was ruled by the Fatimid Empire. This country was once named after me and now I am lost in its own capital.” 

“but..but.. I thought that you are just like another Arab. How did you came here ? there are nearly no Persians in Egypt.” Rehab was curious about this crazy friend of her who just became an unknown foreigner to her.

“my mother was brought here as a prostitute. I don’t even know who my father is. So I call upon this mighty sky and call this sky my father. Now please. Please don’t ask how you became an engineer, how did you struggled etcetera. My mother was a philosopher she had nothing to do with her body. She had one of the most purest souls. It is all because of her that I managed to survive the evil of life.”

“but you said your mother was a prostitute and..”

“every prostitute is a philosopher” Fatima said. While taking a sip from her glass.

Rehab was mesmerised. She wondered how unknown Fatima was to her. In spite of calling her a best friend Fatima was always a stranger to her. Perhaps Fatima was also a stranger to herself. Rehab smiled and said, “so, am I the only person who knows this secret of yours.”

“truth can never be a secret, my fellow prisoner. As Gibran writes, truth can walk naked, only the lie needs dressing. He also writes that a woman doesn’t need a hijab she can cover herself with a smile. But in your case you have two hijabs Rehab. The second one is your smile.”

“I have never thought of hijab like this. But I like yours. Unlike the other hijabs its red in colour which is also kind of strange” rehab looked at the waving hijab. 

“that’s not actually a hijab that’s a flag for me. It was my mother who gave me this. She always wore a hijab in public. Hahah. Pity the Nation where a prostitute wears a hijab. But I wonder this hijab was also a flag for her. There is a poem I read somewhere which says that women should make a flag out of their hijabs.”

Rehab was again pointless to whatever Fatima was saying. She had never thought of her hijab like this. Since her childhood when she started wearing the hijab, there was no difference between her skin and her hijab. She looked at the horizon and thought, if she removes her hijab. She would bleed. That would be a wound which can never be healed. Rehab was lost in her thoughts. She felt some strange feeling of realisation. She looked into the eyes of Fatima. Her stranger friend. And saw herself. Fatima’s eyes became a mirror for her.

Fatima also looked in the deep blue eyes of rehab she suddenly touched her face. Within fraction of seconds she removed the pin of her hijab and because of the wind the hijab suddenly opened exposing her head and neck. Rehab was pushed backwords. Due to this sudden attack on her body she closed her eyes. When she opened those eyes what she saw was the hijab floating on the wind and going far away. She was looking at the hijab like a lonely harbour which looks at the last ship which fades away in the horizon for no return. There were tears in her eyes. Those tears were nothing but her blood. After all a part of her body was amputated. The wind was blowing rapidly in her hair. the cold breeze of the Egyptian wind was healing all her wounds. 

“come here” Fatima said 

She hugged Fathima and started crying. She had a new birth of freedom. She hugged Fathima tightly. Her cry resembled the cry of a new born baby. Fatima kissed her forehead. They both stood up. Fatima was constantly looking at Rehab and her face. Her face looked like a battlefield after the end of a war. A battlefield full of wounded dead bodies. Silent and peaceful but completely destroyed. Fatima touched her face. The wind was blowing rapidly. They both looked into each other’s eyes. This shockwave of feelings and this extremely foreign thought was running deeply in their body. All questions came to a halt. The entire city was frozen. There were only Rehab and Fatima. Two uncertain games of destiny standing in front of each other. It was the wind who brought them closer. In a moment of unimaginable feelings. Rehab’s lips were already touching Fatima’s. on that windy evening they both melted into each other. And suddenly the Red Hijab was also floating on the wind. Disappearing in the endlessness of the city.