The Woman: a parable
Published by Haseeb February 2nd, 2006 in IslamOne of my friends forwarded this beautiful, yet scary story to me the other day. Here goes:
The Woman: A Parable
© Nuh Ha Mim Keller 2001
A man was walking through the marketplace one afternoon when, just as the muezzin began the call to prayer, his eye fell on a woman’s back. She was strangely attractive, though dressed in fulsome black, a veil over head and face, and she now turned to him as if somehow conscious of his over-lingering regard, and gave him a slight but meaningful nod before she rounded the corner into the lane of silk sellers. As if struck by a bolt from heaven, the man was at once drawn, his heart a prisoner of that look, forever. In vain he struggled with his heart, offering it one sound reason after another to go his way—wasn’t it time to pray?—but it was finished: there was nothing but to follow.
He hastened after her, turning into the market of silks, breathing from the exertion of catching up with the woman, who had unexpectedly outpaced him and even now lingered for an instant at the far end of the market, many shops ahead. She turned toward him, and he thought he could see a flash of a mischievious smile from beneath the black muslin of her veil, as she—was it his imagination?—beckoned to him again.
The poor man was beside himself. Who was she? The daughter of a wealthy family? What did she want? He requickened his steps and turned into the lane where she had disappeared. And so she led him, always beyond reach, always tantalizingly ahead, now through the weapons market, now the oil merchants’, now the leather sellers’; farther and farther from where they began. The feeling within him grew rather than decreased. Was she mad? On and on she led, to the very edge of town.
The sun declined and set, and there she was, before him as ever. Now they were come, of all places, to the City of Tombs. Had he been in his normal senses, he would have been afraid, but indeed, he now reflected, stranger places than this had seen a lovers’ tryst.
There were scarcely twenty cubits between them when he saw her look back, and, giving a little start, she skipped down the steps and through the great bronze door of what seemed to be a very old sepulcher. A soberer moment might have seen the man pause, but in his present state, there was no turning back, and he went down the steps and slid in after her.
Inside, as his eyes saw after a moment, there were two flights of steps that led down to a second door, from whence a light shone, and which he equally passed through. He found himself in a large room, somehow unsuspected by the outside world, lit with candles upon its walls. There sat the woman, opposite the door on a pallet of rich stuff in her full black dress, still veiled, reclining on a pillow against the far wall. To the right of the pallet, the man noticed a well set in the floor.
“Lock the door behind you,” she said in a low, husky voice that was almost a whisper, “and bring the key.”
He did as he was told.
She gestured carelessly at the well. “Throw it in.”
A ray of sense seemed to penetrate for a moment the clouds over his understanding, and a bystander, had there been one, might have detected the slightest of pauses.
“Go on,” she said laughingly, “You didn’t hesitate to miss the prayer as you followed me here, did you?”
He said nothing.
“The time for sunset prayer has almost finished as well,” she said with gentle mockery. “Why worry? Go on, throw it in. You want to please me, don’t you?”
He extended his hand over the mouth of the well, and watched as he let the key drop. An uncanny feeling rose from the pit of his stomach as moments passed but no sound came. He felt wonder, then horror, then comprehension.
“It is time to see me,” she said, and she lifted her veil to reveal not the face of a fresh young girl, but of a hideous old crone, all darkness and vice, not a particle of light anywhere in its eldritch lines.
“See me well,” she said. “My name is Dunya, This World. I am your beloved. You spent your time running after me, and now you have caught up with me. In your grave. Welcome, welcome.”
At this she laughed and laughed, until she shook herself into a small mound of fine dust, whose fitful shadows, as the candles went out, returned to the darkness one by one.
Salams.
This was a very well written piece. More importantly, an excellent reminder of the reality of things… oh man. :T
this what happens when u dont know wat to blog, so u grab something that you’ve read many tiems and blog it up
Asslamu ‘alaykum wa’rahmatullahi wa’barakatuhu brother,
a related passage that goes with the above short and meaningful story:
“The Deceitful World”
The deceitful character of the world comes out in the following ways. In the first place, it pretends that it will always remain with you, while, as a matter of fact, it is slipping away from you, moment by moment, and bidding you farewell, like a shadow which seems stationary, but is actually always moving. Again, the world presents itself under the guise of a radiant but immoral sorceress, pretends to be in love with you, fondles you, and then goes off to your enemies, leaving you to die of chagrin and despair.
Jesus (upon whom be peace!) saw the world revealed in the form of an ugly old hag. He asked her how many husbands she had possessed; she replied that they were countless. He asked whether they had died or been divorced; she said that she had slain them all. “I marvel”, he said, “at the fools who see, what you have done to others, and still desire you.”
This sorceress decks herself out in gorgeous and jewelled apparel and veils her face. Then she goes forth to seduce men, too many of whom follow her to their own destruction. The Prophet has said that in the Judgment Day the world will appear in the form of a hideous witch with green eyes and projecting teeth. Men, beholding her, will say, “Mercy on us! who is this?” The angels will answer, “This is the world for whose sake you quarrelled and fought and embittered one another’s lives.” Then she will be cast into hell, whence she will cry out, “O Lord! where are those, my former lovers?” God will then command that they be cast after her.
- Imam Abu Hamid al-Ghazali, The Alchemy of Happiness
source: http://salikah.blogspot.com/2005/08/this-world-we-call-home.html#comments
Fee ImanAllah Ameen
Thank you for that, anonymous person
And Amir, lol i do have alot of things to blog about, just dont have time now! keep me in ur duas.
And i really did get this story in an email recently from a good friend, and did want to share it with my readers. Whats wrong with that?
Mujahideen Ryder: Like putting up google videos on a blog?
yeh ive read that parable before..it was kinda freaky but soo true-wonderful piece indeed
Haha, this is an ad on ur site: http://www.everystudent.com/wires/radical.html
read my FAQ section!
Someones gotta pay the bills.
Very effective way to make a point…not to sound cliche but seriously it was scary as i got to the end of the story…at least i dont need to think too deeply to find out the moral of the story.
Assalamu Alaikum,
Masha’Allah
brother Haseeb-An excellent sory…May Allah 
reward you for sharing this with us. I have recommended your blog to a few people and will pass that story on aswell Insha’Allah 
.
Salam Haseeb,
Its a nice story but I’m afraid I don’t agree with the “Woman as temptress” insinuation, even though it serves the storyline.