Dialogues of Naguib Mahfouz: Ramadan symphony By Mohamed Salmawy It was the last Ramadan for Naguib Mahfouz. Visiting him, I asked how he spent his time in the holy month. "Just like Shaaban [the month preceding Ramadan], all days are the same to me now," he said. What do you miss about Ramadan? I asked. "I miss everything that makes it a special month, fasting mostly. I started fasting before I was seven. I remember going to the roof of our home in Beit Al-Qadi Square in Gammaliya to watch the muezzin climb the minaret of Al-Hussein Mosque to call for the sunset prayers. Ramadan holds some of my best memories for it was the only month my parents let me stay out late and didn't ask where I went or why I was late. "I would go out after Iftar to play with my friends. When I grew up, I would spend most of the day reading. I didn't study during Ramadan. It was a month for free readings. I read the whole Quran for the first time in Ramadan. And it always felt different reading the Quran in Ramadan. Fasting takes one to a spiritual place that turns reading into a special experience. "I remember reading the story of Issa Ibn Hesham in Ramadan. I read the Digest of Arab Literature [ Al-Montakhab Fi Adab Al-Arab ], written by Taha Hussein, Sheikh Al-Sakandari and Ali Al-Garim; a beautiful selection of poetry and prose. I also read the Islamic studies of Abbas Al-Aqqad and A Footnote on the Prophet's Life ( Ala Hamesh Al-Sira ) by Taha Hussein. There is also a book that I cherished a lot, and I had biographies of major Sufis and some of their writings. "As for foreign literature, I read in Ramadan the entire collection of Bernard Shaw plays. That was during my first years in college. I also read the poems of T S Eliot. I would start reading just after coming back home from work and continue until Iftar time. I always chose books of a philosophical or spiritual nature. "After Iftar, we didn't have television; no soap operas, and no quiz shows. So the only entertainment for us was Al-Fishawi Café in the Hussein district. People would sit there and tell the latest jokes or engage in qafya [word play contests]. I would stay there until the early hours of the day, eat the Sohour [pre-dawn] meal and go home. "One of my cherished memories of childhood was going to the houses of rich families who would host concerts of religious singing. I listened in these concerts to Sufi poems delivered by the greatest religious singers of the time, including Sheikh Alim Mahmoud whose voice was simply enchanting. Each house would hire a Quran reader and a singer and then open the mandara [reception hall] for all to enter. "The best part was when it was time to call for prayers and the Quran readers would step out of the door and start calling out in melodic voices, each keeping the right tone and pitch in response to other. It was all so harmonious, like a real symphony," Mahfouz said. So different from what we see today, I said. What with the noisy loudspeakers that compete with each other to give us an unbearable cacophony of sound, I said. Mahfouz didn't comment.
