A Muslim Suicide

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342 11 A wonderful day to be recorded in letters of gold: the tenth day of Dhu alQa ‘da in the year 660 AH [1262 CE]. In the evening the warden Yasir came up to my room and told me to accompany him at once; my eyes would be delighted by what he had to show me. I followed him, albeit with a certain concern since I was worried that Sitt Umama might be involved. However, no sooner had he opened the door to a room opposite the garden than I set my eyes on my beloved friend Al-Shushtari, lying in bed. He managed to sit up, albeit with a good deal of effort. We embraced each other warmly and shed some tears. After such a prolonged time apart, I was delighted to see him again, so delighted in fact that, like him, I could not stop crying. Beyond that, I was distressed to find him in such poor health, obviously a direct consequence of his heroic participation in the fighting against the Crusader forces at Damietta. I began by asking him how he was. “Saint of God,” he sobbed in reply, “the fact that you were so far away was the only thing that kept me feeling miserable. In fact, I still managed to be with you several times in my dreams and debated matters with you. Not only that, but I also mentioned you, with all due humility, in some of my poems. As I told you in my letter, your wife and family are safe and sound in Tangier, God be praised! All they’re hoping for is your safe return and the possibility of seeing your luminous countenance again when the clouds thrown up by your enemies have finally dissipated along with the political machinations of the people who wish you ill. Concerning your students, I have only learned a very little, and even that is not very reliable.” “But what about you, Abu al-Hasan?” A Muslim Suicide | 343 “You can see for yourself. This Muslim is in bad shape. My bones are weak, and my hair has turned white. I need a cane to walk. But, in spite of everything, my enthusiasm is still as strong as yours, full of aspirations—thank God!” I urged him to get as much rest and sleep as he could, otherwise he would wear himself out talking and answering questions. I instructed Ghaylan to do everything necessary to arrange his quarters and carry out whatever functions Al-Shushtari might need. It was sunset on the following day when the holy man woke up again. I paid him a call after evening prayer and found him much recovered and fully ready to sit up and chat. Ghaylan came in, greeted us both, and placed some food on the table. I asked him if he would like to perform the pilgrimage again this season, adding that, with God’s aid, I intended to do it myself along with my companion. Ghaylan’s eyes sparkled as he responded that he would indeed like to do so. “My dear colleague,” said Al-Shushtari, “I’ve been away from these blessed regions for a very long time. I’m longing to perform the pilgrimage and stand at ‘Arafa. To be able to perform my last pilgrimage in the company of a beloved colleague such as yourself is an additional boon.” “So then, Abu al-Hasan,” I responded gently, “we’ll perform the pilgrimage together. And, God willing, there’ll be others to follow.” We prayed the evening prayer together on the roof. Once that was finished, we sat there under a sky glittering with pearly stars and exchanged information that each of us thought was important. Al-Shushtari told me that the death of Ibn Khalas, governor of Sabta, had been confirmed; he had drowned while escaping to Tunis. He had vigorously objected to the general tyranny and corruption of his successor as governor, whose evil conduct was only rivaled by the boorish and uncouth governor of Tangier. By now, the Almohad sultan had completely abandoned all interest in Andalus and was completely preoccupied with protecting the few cities still under his control from the ever-growing power of the Marinids. Hearing all this, I begged God to show some of His kindness. For my part, I told Abu al-Hasan about Sitt Umama, my Meccan students , and my meeting with Abu Numa and my favorable impression of him. He shared my...