Princess Sultana's Circle

that these men were servants
employed by Faddel.
    Layla had already been
alerted by Maha of Khalidah’s plight, so she quickly rushed to
assist me in my so-far-futile efforts to revive her mistress. The
three men watched uneasily as they stood silently around the limp
figure of Khalidah.
    Meanwhile, Amani continued
with her urgent task of emptying Faddel’s paradise garden of every
singing creature. Thankfully, Khalidah’s employees were so
pre-occupied with their mistress’ condition that they did not
notice the frantic behavior of my daughter which was taking place
behind them.
    Khalidah finally opened her
eyes and when she saw my face hovering over hers, she groaned and
swooned again. After the third time I had roused my cousin only to
witness her immediate relapse, I decided that Khalidah should be
moved to her bed. I sprang to my feet as I instructed the male
servants, “Quickly, lift your mistress, and carry her into the
palace.”
    All three men exchanged
worried glances, and then stepped backward. Their eyes betrayed
their thoughts; I saw that they considered me of unsound mind. The
smallest of the men finally spoke, “Madam, it is
forbidden.”
    Standing there, with the
helpless Khalidah at my feet, I realized that these men were
repelled by the very thought of touching Khalidah; their mistress,
true, but a woman, nevertheless.
    Many fundamentalist Muslim
men believe that all women are impure, and that if they touch even
the palm of a woman not legally bound to them, they will suffer
red-hot embers applied to their own palms on Judgment
Day.
    Since it is reported that
Prophet Mohammed refused to touch any woman who did not belong to
him, there are many hadiths, or interpretations of the Prophet’s
words and actions on this subject. A popular hadith on this very
topic is that: “A praying man may interrupt his prayers if one of
three things should pass in front of him: a black dog, a woman, or
an ass.” On more than one occasion I have even heard my own father
say that he would rather be splashed by a pig than to brush against
the elbow of a woman that he did not know.
    Without thinking, I rushed
toward the two men closest to me and simultaneously grabbed both
their arms. “Take your mistress into the palace! Now!”
    The two men, with eyes
opened wide in alarm, struggled to disengage themselves from my
grasp. Since each man had greater strength than a small woman, they
quickly succeeded in pulling away from me.
    With a look of genuine
shock and repulsion on their faces, both men stooped to the ground
and began to rub sand on the skin of their arms where I had touched
them.
    Their reaction infuriated
me. Even though I am aware that the Koran warns that if a man
touches a strange woman, and cannot find water to wash, then he
should find “clean” soil and rub away the pollution of that woman,
I was still offended.
    The quick-thinking Layla
intervened. “Wait,” she said, “I have an idea.” She rushed back
toward the palace.
    I turned my attention back
to Khalidah. I patted her cheeks and called out her name. She
refused to respond to my pleas, but when I turned slightly to
address Maha, I saw her peek at me through slightly opened eyelids.
Obviously Khalidah was feigning her condition so that she could
escape answering Amani’s charge of cruelty, and, in the process, to
gain great sympathy.
    Layla returned with a
blanket which she laid out like a mat next to her mistress. Since
these foolish servants still refused to touch her, Layla, Maha, and
I rolled Khalidah from the grass onto that mat. I then ordered the
men to take the corners of the blanket, and still they recoiled. I
shrieked that I would have them jailed! Knowing I was of royal
blood, each of the men then reluctantly gripped a corner of the
blanket. With faces filled with pained endurance, they slowly
conveyed the debilitated Khalidah back to the palace.
    I ordered Maha to find her
sister, who could no longer to be seen in the garden, and told her
to bring her to me in the palace.
    Once Khalidah had revived
enough to take tea, I made profuse apologies for the unfortunate
incident. My cousin drank her tea in silence, refusing to look at
me. But, when I reminded her that many modern children are high
strung and uncontrollable, she gave a slight nod of recognition. I
had heard gossip that several of Khalidah’s sons were problems and
she seemed to have some understanding of having such a defiant
child as Amani.
    After a somber