سَيِّدَةُ المَقْهَى في مَكَّة

The Coffeehouse Mistress of Mecca

الفَصْلُ الأَوَّل: قَهْوَةُ الحَجِيج

Chapter One: Coffee of the Pilgrims

كَانَتْ نُورُ الهُدَى أَشْهَرَ صَاحِبَةِ مَقْهَى فِي مَكَّةَ المُكَرَّمَة. بَنَتْ مَقْهَاهَا عَلَى طَرِيقِ الحُجَّاجِ، حَيْثُ يَسْتَرِيحُونَ قَبْلَ دُخُولِ الحَرَم. قَهْوَتُهَا مَشْهُورَةٌ بِطَعْمٍ لَا يُنْسَى، وَابْتِسَامَتُهَا أَشْهَرُ مِنْ قَهْوَتِهَا.

Nur al-Huda was the most famous coffeehouse owner in holy Mecca. She built her coffeehouse on the pilgrims' route, where they rested before entering the sanctuary. Her coffee was famous for an unforgettable taste, and her smile more famous than her coffee.

كَانَتْ فِي الأَرْبَعِينَ، أَرْمَلَةً مُنْذُ عَشْرِ سَنَوَات. جَسَدُهَا مُمْتَلِئٌ كَجِرَارِ القَهْوَةِ الَّتِي تَمْلَأُهَا، وَدَافِئٌ كَالنَّارِ الَّتِي تَغْلِي عَلَيْهَا. بَشَرَتُهَا سَمْرَاءُ حِجَازِيَّةٌ، وَعَيْنَاهَا سَوْدَاوَانِ كَبُنِّ اليَمَن.

She was forty, a widow for ten years. Her body was full as the coffee pots she filled, and warm as the fire they boiled on. Her skin was Hijazi brown, her eyes black as Yemeni coffee beans.

الفَصْلُ الثَّاني: الحَاجُّ الغَرِيب

Chapter Two: The Strange Pilgrim

جَاءَ إِلَى مَقْهَاهَا حَاجٌّ مِنْ أَصْفَهَانَ يُدْعَى رُسْتُم. كَانَ فِي الخَمْسِينَ، تَاجِرًا غَنِيًّا جَاءَ لِيَحُجَّ وَيَتُوبَ عَنْ ذُنُوبِ شَبَابِه. وَجْهُهُ يَحْمِلُ آثَارَ حَيَاةٍ مَلِيئَةٍ بِالمُغَامَرَاتِ.

A pilgrim from Isfahan came to her coffeehouse called Rustam. He was fifty, a wealthy merchant who came to perform Hajj and repent his youthful sins. His face bore the marks of a life full of adventures.

"قَهْوَتُكِ أَفْضَلُ مِنْ قَهْوَةِ إِصْفَهَان،" قَالَ لَهَا.

"Your coffee is better than Isfahan's," he said to her.

"لِأَنَّنِي أَصْنَعُهَا بِالحُبِّ،" أَجَابَتْ. "القَهْوَةُ بِلَا حُبٍّ مَاءٌ أَسْوَد."

"Because I make it with love," she answered. "Coffee without love is black water."

"وَهَلْ فِي قَلْبِكِ حُبٌّ؟"

"Is there love in your heart?"

"كَانَ. مَاتَ مَعَ زَوْجِي."

"There was. It died with my husband."

"الحُبُّ لَا يَمُوت. يَنَامُ فَقَط."

"Love does not die. It only sleeps."

الفَصْلُ الثَّالِث: لَيَالِي رَمَضَان

Chapter Three: Nights of Ramadan

بَقِيَ رُسْتُمُ فِي مَكَّةَ شُهُورًا، يَأْتِي إِلَى مَقْهَاهَا كُلَّ لَيْلَة. كَانَا يَتَحَدَّثَانِ حَتَّى الفَجْر: هُوَ يَحْكِي عَنْ رِحْلَاتِهِ، وَهِيَ تَحْكِي عَنْ وَحْدَتِهَا.

Rustam stayed in Mecca for months, coming to her coffeehouse every night. They would talk until dawn: he telling of his travels, she telling of her loneliness.

فِي رَمَضَان، كَانَ يُفْطِرُ عِنْدَهَا. وَذَاتَ لَيْلَةٍ، بَعْدَ السُّحُورِ، قَالَ لَهَا: "أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَذُوقَ شَيْئًا أَحْلَى مِنَ القَهْوَة."

In Ramadan, he would break his fast at her place. One night, after the pre-dawn meal, he said to her: "I want to taste something sweeter than coffee."

"مَا هُوَ؟"

"What is it?"

"أَنْتِ."

"You."

احْمَرَّتْ وَجْنَتَاهَا رَغْمَ سُمْرَتِهَا. "أَنَا امْرَأَةٌ كَبِيرَةٌ."

Her cheeks reddened despite their darkness. "I am an old woman."

"أَنْتِ امْرَأَةٌ نَاضِجَةٌ. وَالنُّضْجُ أَحْلَى مِنَ الشَّبَاب."

"You are a ripe woman. And ripeness is sweeter than youth."

الفَصْلُ الرَّابِع: القَهْوَةُ وَالجَسَد

Chapter Four: Coffee and Body

تَزَوَّجَا زَوَاجًا شَرْعِيًّا، وَأُغْلِقَ المَقْهَى لِلَيْلَةٍ وَاحِدَة. كَانَتْ لَيْلَةَ زِفَافِهِمَا. عَلَّمَتْهُ نُورُ الهُدَى أَنَّ جَسَدَهَا كَالقَهْوَة: يَحْتَاجُ صَبْرًا فِي التَّحْضِيرِ، وَلَذَّتُهُ تَأْتِي بِبُطْءٍ.

They married lawfully, and the coffeehouse closed for one night. It was their wedding night. Nur al-Huda taught him that her body was like coffee: requiring patience in preparation, its pleasure coming slowly.

"اطْحَنِّي بِرِفْقٍ،" هَمَسَتْ وَهُوَ يَلْمِسُهَا. "وَأَشْعِلِ النَّارَ تَحْتِي بِهُدُوء. لَا تَسْتَعْجِل."

"Grind me gently," she whispered as he touched her. "And light the fire beneath me slowly. Do not hurry."

اتَّبَعَ تَعْلِيمَاتِهَا، وَذَاقَهَا كَمَا يَذُوقُ القَهْوَةَ: رَشْفَةً رَشْفَة، بِلَا عَجَلَة. كَانَ جَسَدُهَا دَافِئًا وَمُرًّا وَحُلْوًا فِي آنٍ وَاحِد، كَأَفْضَلِ قَهْوَةٍ شَرِبَهَا.

He followed her instructions, tasting her as he tasted coffee: sip by sip, without haste. Her body was warm and bitter and sweet at once, like the finest coffee he had ever drunk.

الفَصْلُ الخَامِس: قَهْوَةُ الحُبّ

Chapter Five: Coffee of Love

ابْتَكَرَتْ نُورُ الهُدَى خَلْطَةً جَدِيدَةً سَمَّتْهَا "قَهْوَةَ العُشَّاق": فِيهَا هَيْلٌ وَزَعْفَرَانٌ وَقَطْرَةٌ مِنْ مَاءِ الوَرْد. وَيُقَالُ إِنَّهَا أَضَافَتْ مُكَوِّنًا سِرِّيًّا: قَطْرَةً مِنْ عَرَقِهَا فِي لَيْلَةِ الحُبّ.

Nur al-Huda invented a new blend she called "Lovers' Coffee": containing cardamom and saffron and a drop of rosewater. It is said she added a secret ingredient: a drop of her sweat from a night of love.

"مَا سِرُّ هَذِهِ القَهْوَة؟" سَأَلَهَا الحُجَّاج.

"What is this coffee's secret?" the pilgrims asked.

"الحُبُّ،" أَجَابَتْ وَعَيْنَاهَا عَلَى زَوْجِهَا. "وَمَنْ لَا يَعْرِفُ الحُبَّ، لَا يَعْرِفُ طَعْمَهَا الحَقِيقِيّ."

"Love," she answered, her eyes on her husband. "And whoever knows not love, knows not its true taste."

الخَاتِمَة

Epilogue

عَاشَتْ نُورُ الهُدَى وَرُسْتُمُ سَنَوَاتٍ سَعِيدَةً. وَصَارَ مَقْهَاهَا أَشْهَرَ مَكَانٍ يَلْتَقِي فِيهِ العُشَّاق. وَيُقَالُ إِنَّ خَلْطَةَ "قَهْوَةِ العُشَّاق" مَا زَالَتْ تُصْنَعُ فِي مَكَّةَ، لَكِنَّ أَحَدًا لَمْ يَسْتَطِعْ أَنْ يَصْنَعَهَا بِالطَّعْمِ نَفْسِه.

Nur al-Huda and Rustam lived happy years. Her coffeehouse became the most famous meeting place for lovers. It is said the "Lovers' Coffee" blend is still made in Mecca, but no one has been able to make it taste the same.