تابع قناة عكاظ على الواتساب

مرّت الخطّاطة (قُذلة) بالقرية المنهمك أهلها في دياس الصيف، واستقر بها المقام في بيت الأرملة (شويلة) التي هلّت وسهّلت بها طمعاً في بشارات مستقبليّة، كونها في شهر حملها التاسع، دلّت تجمع لها من جماعة قريتها شُكادة، دحوة وإلا دحوتين من البُرّ اللي يشوق العين، لتفرّح الخطاطة، وتعود بما قُسم لها لزوجها وعيالها في البادية، والتزم لها العريفة بفَرَق وبيشده مع بقية الشكايد فوق الجمل، ويوصلها ولده إلى بيتها، دعت له شويلة، وطلبت ربي يجود عليه، ردّ عليها، أحسب جودي من ماجودي، واثر جودي من جود الله، وحلف عليها في فنجال قهوة، ونشدها، بشّريني عاونوك العيال بالدياس، قالت، بيّض الله وجهك، لو ما همب المطاليق، يكون أعشب العيش في المسطح، ثم قال، وش شافت الخطاطة يوم خطّتْ لك؟ ردّت، ما قالت إلا ، بيجي لي ولد حظه يكسّر الحصى، علّق، يا الله في الحيا، وأضاف، ها لا تقعديني تسحبين حواكك من بيت في بيت وبطنك قِرتك، تحاشي على عمرك، وعلى اللي حظّه يكسر الحصى، وإن جا كما قالت ( قذلة) فإن شاء الله لأعطيه وحدة من بنات ولدي (مبخوت).

وفي ليلة بدريّة، والسكون يعمّ الدار ومن فيها، داهم المخاض، العِرْبيّة، وما عندها لا رفيق ولا معين إلا الله: فشبّت حطبها، وأسندت ظهرها إلى زاوية قريبة من الملّة، ويمّمت وجهها للقبلة، وعضّت على شرشفها بأسنانها كي يخفت زحيرها، خشية سماع جيرانها استغاثاتها، وسبحان من قاله، جاء الولد كنه شقفة القمر، وما شقشق نور الصباح، إلا ومولودها يرضع اللبا، ولأن حدس الجارات ما يخيب، أقبلن عليها، اللي بقشرها، واللي بحُلبتها، واللي بطاسة فتّة، وكنّ عويناتها وسندها، خصوصاً أنهن شعرن بالتقصير عندما غبن عنها ساعة الولادة.

سمّته على خاله (جودان) وطلبت من إحدى جاراتها، ترسل ولدها ليبلّغ أهلها، بأن الكبار والطهار رأس الدور، وعنّزت على زوجة الفقيه، تأخذ الثور عندها، إلى يوم الخميس، وتوصّي على الفقيه، يحدّ الشّفار، وينبّ النشامى يجمعون القدور والصحون، وطلبت من زوجة الشاعر، تبلّغ زوجها يولّف قصايد، وكسوته عُكة سمن عامي، وانعقد المرسام، وتوافد الأخوال بالكساوي، اللي قدّم جنبيّته، واللي أهدى بندقته، وقامت الحفلة اللي أبد لها وخيّل، ومدح الشاعر السمي والمسمّى، وكّل ما عبى قصيدة يلمح في الخال (جودان) الذي قرب منه ودسّ في جيبه ورقة حمراء، فصار يقصّد ويدبك بقدميه على أرض الغابرة، التي احتكم فيها معراض لا قبله ولا بعده.

صحّت النبوءة، وكان حظّ (جودان) فوق رأسه، انتقل مع أمه عند أخواله، وتعلّم المراجل، والمراجل ما هي لـ( اللاش واللي ماش، وما تجي بلاش) وراعي المرجلة يدوّر الحاسد عليه زلّة، وغدا (جودان) من كبار تجار القبيلة، وفي يوم شؤوم التقى بمؤذن قرية أبوه، في سوق الثلاثاء، وتحرى المؤذن الحسود، لين فضي الدكان، واقترب منه وقال: سمعت ناس من الجماعة، يقولون خلقتك ما هي كما خِلقة أبوك، وعذربوا في أمك، لأنها شردت بك عند أخوالك، حتى ما يحقّرونك السفان، ويلصقون فيك عيرة، ردّ عليه، سوّد الله وجهك؟ فأقسم، أن الجماعة كلهم ما يجيبون سيرته إلا وينعتونه بابن الحرام، فوقف، واستحبه من ذراعه، وقال: بيننا وعد قريب.

قفل باب الدّكان، ولا اثنى ركبته إلا عند أمه، والأم بلّغت خاله، بما نقل لها، فلزم الصمت، وما أضحت إلا وهم في بيت العريفة، وحاول المذّن يتملّص، ويجيب أعذار ملشلشة، فخسّوا به الحضور(تخسى في وجهك) والتزم العريفة بالحقّ وما يلحق، وأرسل الفقيه، يفتك ثور ديكان، ويزهّب غداء الرجاجيل، وبعدما تغدّوا وكثروا بالخير، طلب من زوجته تطلع العالية هي وجاراتها، وينشرن البيضاء لجودان وأمه وأخواله، وقال ، ترى بنت ولدي مبخوت حليلة لجودان، مثل ما وعدت أمه وهو باقي في بطنها، وتجدّدت الأفراح، وشدّ المؤذن، وحلّ في ديرة غير الديرة.

The seamstress (Qudhila) passed through the village, where the residents were busy with the summer harvest, and settled in the house of the widow (Shuwaila), who welcomed her and made things easy for her, hoping for future blessings, as she was in her ninth month of pregnancy. She gathered for her from the people of her village, Shukada, a handful or two of the wheat that delights the eye, to cheer up the seamstress and return with what was allocated for her husband and children in the desert. The leader promised her with a load tied with the rest of the sacks on the camel, and his son would take her to her house. Shuwaila prayed for him and asked God to bless him. He replied, "I consider my generosity from what is granted to me, and my generosity is from God's bounty," and he swore to her over a cup of coffee. He asked her, "Did the seamstress give you good news about the harvest?" She replied, "May God brighten your face; if it weren't for the strong winds, life would be easier in the flatlands." Then he said, "What did the seamstress see when she stitched for you?" She replied, "She only said, 'A boy will come to me whose luck will break stones.'" He commented, "Oh God, in life," and added, "Don't let me see you dragging your belongings from house to house with your belly heavy; take care of your life and of the one whose luck will break stones. If he comes as (Qudhila) said, then God willing, I will give him one of my son (Mabkhoot)'s daughters."

On an early night, while silence filled the house and those within it, labor struck the pregnant woman, and she had no companion or helper but God. She lit her firewood, leaned her back against a corner near the wall, turned her face towards the Qibla, and bit down on her sheet with her teeth to muffle her cries, fearing her neighbors would hear her pleas. Glory be to Him who said it; the boy came like a piece of the moon, and as soon as the morning light broke, her newborn was nursing. Because the intuition of the neighbors never fails, they came to her, some with their peels, some with their milk, and some with a bowl of porridge, and they were her eyes and support, especially since they felt guilty for not being there at the time of her delivery.

She named him after her uncle (Joudan) and asked one of her neighbors to send her son to inform her family that the elders and the pure were at the head of the house. She also asked the wife of the scholar to take the bull to her place until Thursday and instructed her to tell the scholar to sharpen the knives and remind the men to gather the pots and plates. She asked the poet's wife to inform her husband to compose poems, and she dressed him in a traditional cloak of ghee. The event was held, and the uncles arrived with gifts, some brought their side garments, and some gifted their rifles. The celebration began, and the poet praised the well-known and the named, and every time he filled a poem, he hinted at the uncle (Joudan), who was close to him and slipped a red paper into his pocket. He began to dance and stomp his feet on the ground of the past, where a dispute had taken place that had no equal before or after.

The prophecy came true, and (Joudan) had luck on his side. He moved with his mother to his uncles' house, learned the ways of manhood, and manhood is not for the lazy and those who do not come for free. The one who possesses manhood is always wary of the envious, and (Joudan) became one of the prominent traders of the tribe. On an ominous day, he met the muezzin of his father's village at the Tuesday market, and the envious muezzin waited for him to leave the shop. He approached him and said, "I heard people from the community say that your creation is not like your father's, and they slander your mother because she took you to your uncles, so they do not belittle you, the lowly, and stick shame upon you." He replied, "May God darken your face?" He swore that everyone in the community only speaks of him as the son of a harlot. He stood up, grabbed him by the arm, and said, "We have a close promise."

He closed the shop door, and he did not kneel until he was with his mother. The mother informed her brother about what he had conveyed to her, so he remained silent. By morning, they were in the house of the leader, and the muezzin tried to evade and give flimsy excuses, but the attendees rebuked him (shame on your face), and the leader stuck to the truth and what is right. He sent the scholar to slaughter a bull and prepare lunch for the men, and after they had eaten and enjoyed the good food, he asked his wife to bring the high ones, she and her neighbors, to spread the white cloth for Joudan, his mother, and his uncles. He said, "You see, my son Mabkhoot's daughter is the bride for Joudan, just as I promised his mother while he was still in her womb." The celebrations renewed, and the muezzin settled in a place other than his own.