A Muslim Suicide

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164 9 I was jolted out of my reverie by a gentle tap on my door, followed by a soft neigh. Opening the door I found myself face to face with my horse, almost as though he had come to inquire about my health and check up on me. I held his head close and nuzzled him, whispering words of affection and good cheer to the effect that he would soon be conveying me to my mistress and his. After indicating that he understood and concurred, he turned around and happily retraced his steps. It occurred to me that I might follow him to make sure he went back to his stable or pasture and then take the opportunity to meet and talk to some of the folk residing in the wing for those who could talk, but instead I decided to remain in isolation and allow my daydreams completely free rein. I settled myself down to read chapters in the books I had used to frame my bed. Whenever an idea or an inspiration occurred to me, I would write it down in my notes before it disappeared and Satan erased it from my memory. I kept this up for a while, not bothering whenever my stomach demanded food or the muezzin called people to prayer, only interrupting things in order to contemplate what I was reading and writing for a while. When it was early morning, I again opened Al-Harith al-Muhasibi’s* Book of Contemplation, specifically at the section that had originally worried me and made me reject the ideas of this Sunni mystic who was so well known for his piety and virtue. He is talking about the believer who is promised an afterlife in paradise, within it “houris with soft-skinned bodies, virgin and sweet,” residing there for evermore, lovely companions who will provide glasses of wine and cups of honey, milk, and water. Just imagine the sweetness of her body as she embraces you in her arms, so soft and gentle that your two bodies almost blend with each other. Then imagine her beautiful breasts touching your chest and the sheer delight in fondling A Muslim Suicide | 165 them. Smell the perfume of her cheeks, so enticing that your heart will forget everything else as it wallows in the sheer pleasure of it, filled with an unspeakable delight emanating from the exquisite touch and sweetly perfumed rapture that she has conveyed to your soul. Thus far I found myself relishing the ideas, since up to this point things were limited to embracing, blending one with each other, and mutual touching, all of it followed by two beloveds sharing feelings of pleasure and rapture. But where I found myself opposing his visions and heartily disapproving of the sheer obscenity of his ideas was with regard to the following passage: While you find yourself in this position, they will flirt with you. They will lean over and keep on hugging and kissing you as they cover your chest with their breasts. They will envelop you in their gorgeous faces, cover your body, and coat it with their fluids. Your nostrils will be filled with the sweet scent of their cheeks. Such talk as this finds an analogy among the ancient Greeks under the name “orgy,” the kind of thing that the god of wine and communal mayhem, Dionysus , would call for (duly imitated by the Romans with their god, Bacchus). Those peoples had the customs that they did, and we monotheists have adopted some of that heritage of wisdom as part of our own quest, along with certain aspects of its polytheism and legend. But it makes no sense to see even a merely superficial and unintentional influence in this parallel depiction of the Muslim paradise. My personal opinion is that, in this particular chapter—on revelry and debauchery— Al-Harith al-Muhasibi has done a poor job of cultivating imagination’s fertile fields, failing completely to appreciate either meaning or intention. With that in mind I have questioned my own soul about paradise, assuming that it takes a form such as Al-Muhasibi describes it. I have determined that it is only against my will that I will ever be dragged to such a place. Instead I much prefer the other version, a place the like of which no eye has ever seen, no ear ever heard, and no human heart ever conceived. We might perhaps excuse Al-Muhasibi on the grounds that he...