حشوان المهفوف لا صوف ولا معروف – أخبار السعودية – كورا نيو

سرتْ الرياح الباردة على قرية ثاوية، على تلّة لا ساتر لها، إلا ستر اللي ما تسهى عينه ولا تنام، كأنها بصفيرها وهبّاتها؛ عدوٌ غاشم هاجسه الانتقام، زعزعت البيبان، ونترت الطيق، وقلّعت الزنق، ونفرت بغُطيان الكُتَر؛ فتكالبت على (أم حشوان) رهبة الظلام، وخرعة الوحدة، ووحشة ليل الشتا، وسُمطة فراشها، الذي آثرت بأغطيته، وحيدها (حشوان المهفوف) اليتيم الذي خلّفه أبوه قطعة لحم في طمرة، والتحق بالسماء، قبل أن يسمع مغاغاته، فأوقفتْ عُمرها وجهدها عليه؛ تدجّن فيه، دجانة البدوان في حشيّه.

ومن شدّة فزعها من الرياح، وما وراها من محاذير وأطماح، لاذت بابنها الغارق في سابع نومة، ورسابه يتقاطر من شدقه كما فحل البعارين، من كثرة ما تلخلخ قبل النوم، ردّت طرفي الكسا على جسده المُوحي بفحولة مبكّرة، ولكي تؤنس وحدتها، مدّت كفها إلى شُقاق الحطب، واختارت منه أعواداً جافة، على أمل أن يتوارى، دون طقطقة ولا روائح، تثير انتباه جيرانها، وتحرّك شكوكهم الجاهزة، شعُرت بوخزة في رأس إبهام يدها اليمنى، فلم تعرها اهتماماً، وانهمكت في نفخ الوارية، بعدما أغلقت على ضنينها، وعلى نفسها كل المناسم، دفيوا؛ واقترب الدِّيك منها، فحكّت أطراف المجرفة بأظافرها، وألقت له ببقايا عجين يابس، بغت القطة تشاركه فنقرها في راسها فتراجعت، وسرح خيالها، وهي تتأمل منقار الدّيك، والتقاطه الحثر في الظلام، ودرجت بصرها في ابنها المنبطح، وقالت في نفسها «ما خلق الله شدق، إلا قسم له رزق».

أصبحت أصبعها متورّمة، والحمى تتوسد مفاصلها التي كأنك رضيتها بودِي، وفي أطرافها رعشة، ولمحت بين أعواد الحطب، عقربة سوداء، تبسّمت وهي تردد؛ (قالوا؛ اقرب يا موت، فقال؛ اقربي يا عِلّة) ونادت بصوت منهوك؛ فسمعتها جارتها (المهفوفة) النازلة بالقرية من أعوام؛ و(حشوان) المتكعفل إلى جوارها صمّها وطمّها؛ والذُّبان لاطية فوق وجهه؛ ولا يحرّك ساكن، فجاءتها حامشة؛ ودقّت لها فصّ ثوم، وحزمته على أصبعها، وغادرت لبيتها، وعادت بزبديّة سمن؛ حمّتها حتى دفيت؛ وأسقتها، وجلّتها ببطانية، وتحرّك النائم، فانقشع الكسا من فوقه، وهالها ما لمحت، فقامت وأعادت الكسا بسرعة، وكادت تسقط خجلاً من هول منظر شاهدته، بودها لو امتد لساعات.

طلبت (أم حشوان) من جارتها تخرج غنمها من المراح، فقالت؛ ولدك الرقّاد يقوم يسرح بها، فقالت؛ قيميه ولا تخرعينه، فلبّت الجارة طلبها بامتنان كبير، واقتربت منه، ونادت عليه، وطرف الكسا يرتفع وينخفض، فزّ مرعوباً، وفرّك عيونه، متسائلاً ؛ وين أُمي؟ جاوبته؛ لقصتها عقربة؛ قم سرّح غنمي وغنمك، وانا بالحقك بالفال، تمعّن فيها، وإذا بها مركّزة نظرها على محزمه، ولهيب أنفاسها يلفح وجهاً بينه وبين الماء فُرْقه، وزفير أُمه يتعالى، فقام ورائحة كادي جارته المُنعش، يفور في دماغه، وخطّى العتبة، ثم استقام طرف الجناح، واحتفش مستجيباً لنداء الطبيعة، وسوّت نفسها ما تشوفه، وردّت شيلتها على فمها، وعينها قاطعة في طول وعرض رجّال، أمه تعافر الشرّ، وهو يناتر.

ساق الأغنام، ولاحظه الفقيه، وتذكّر أن أمّه ما صبّحت عليه عادتها كل يوم، فنشده؛ وين أمك يا حشوان ما لها بديَة، أربّها هبطت، وكان منكّس راسه، فنظر إليه، وردّ؛ انت يا فقيه فقيه رجاجيل وإلا نسوان؟ وشبك؛ ما تتنشد إلا عن الحريم، سرحت راحت، هبطت صدرت، نكحت تطلقت، ما تمزى على شيبتك وتحشم نفسك، يا ضعيف العقل؟ استحى الفقيه؛ فأدخل يده في مذرى مليان عذوق ذرة، دوبه قصّعها، أخرج له ملء كفيه، وقال؛ تحمّص يا المهفوف وخل غنمك ترعى الركيب غلّقنا صرامه، وأضاف؛ ما نشدتك إلا مراعاة لحقوق الجار، فقال في نفسه؛ حقّ لك العذاب.

تسامعت القرية بلقصة العقرب، فتقاطروا على بيت جارتهم الطيّبة، اللي بعسيّه واللي بردّ التحيّه؛ وخطّ لها الفقيه محوة بالزعفران وذوّبها في طاسة، واسقاها وعيناه على صدرها الوافر الحظّ؛ مردداً؛ (باسم الله الشافي المعافي، وباسم القازي التازي ما يرزاك رازي)، وتعمّد يهزّ يده، ليتقاطر الماء فوق نحرها وسحرها، وانتبه للمهفوفة، تفتّ قرصاً في زبديّة السمن؛ فقال؛ لقّمِيها ولا تكثرين، فردّت بصوت حازم؛ هذا فال حشوان، سرح بالغنم ما فك الريق، خلك عند أمه، وإذا فطّرت حشوان، وعوّدت ولّمت فطورك وفطورها، فانتشى وكأنها أعطته بندر عدن.

اكتشف (حشوان المهفوف) دواءً لجوع النجوع، ومسكّن النزق، فاعتزل عن والدته؛ في العُليّة، وتناغمت مشاعره، مع أعضائه؛ فخشيت أمه الفضيحة، وقررت تزويجه، خصوصاً وأن جارتها المهفوفة؛ صارت تلح في طلبه؛ مرة خليه يجي يطحن لي الحبّ، ومرّة يحدّ الفاس، ومرة يشدّ على الحمارة، فطلبت من الفقيه يدوّر له عروس، وبشّرته بخروف من خيرة غنمها، فندف صدره قائلاً؛ ولدك ولدي، وما لك إلّا بخدلجه ما دخل قُرانا كماها، وساعة ما طرق الخبر سمع المهفوفة، حبكت له، ودقّت تالي ليل، على جدار خشبي مخلوب بطين، يفصل بيتها عن بيت أم حشوان؛ فأيقظته أمه؛ يبدي يلمح وش سنع دقّ جارتهم، فخرج وهي خرجته اللي ما دخل بعدها، أمسى ولا أصبح، لا هو ولا المهفوفة؛ اللي قال؛ جنيّة سرت به، واللي يقول؛ أقحم نفسه في غدير الملقّى؛ واللي يقول؛ سافرت به المهفوفة إلى بلادها، وغدت الأم تندب، و تردد (الله يسامحك يا حشوان المهفوف، ما فيك لا صوف ولا معروف)، ردّ عليها الفقيه؛ أبشري بالصوف والمعروف، ونقع الدفوف، وحنا الكفوف، ولمع السيوف، وفقّ الغضروف، وغنّى (يا ناكح أم اليتيم، كم لك من أجر عظيم، كنّك تسقّي حجيج، بين الصفا والحطيم) فحذفته بخوط ريحان مغرهد، مرددة؛ الله ربّنا وربّك.

The cold winds swept over the village of Thawiya, on a hill with no shelter, except for the cover of the one who does not forget nor sleep, as if its whistling and gusts were; a fierce enemy driven by revenge, shaking the doors, tugging at the curtains, uprooting the hedges, and scattering the coverings of the blankets; the darkness, the fear of solitude, the loneliness of the winter night, and the roughness of her bed, which she preferred with its covers, her only son (Hashwan the orphan) who left behind a piece of flesh in a grave, and ascended to the sky, before hearing his cries, so she devoted her life and effort to him; taming him like the Bedouins do with their livestock.

In her intense fright from the winds, and what lay behind them of dangers and ambitions, she sought refuge in her son, who was deep in the seventh sleep, with drool dripping from his mouth like a bull, from the many times he had tossed and turned before sleeping. She adjusted the edges of the blanket on his body, which suggested early manhood, and to ease her solitude, she reached for the firewood, selecting dry twigs, hoping they would burn without crackling or smells that would attract the attention of her neighbors and stir their ready suspicions. She felt a sting in the tip of her right thumb but paid it no mind, engrossed in blowing on the fire, after she had closed off all the openings to her precious one, and to herself. The rooster approached her, so she scratched the edges of the shovel with her nails and threw him some leftover dry dough. Suddenly, the cat joined him, pecking at it with its beak, causing her to retreat, and her imagination wandered as she contemplated the rooster’s beak, pecking at the scraps in the dark, and her gaze drifted to her son lying flat, and she said to herself, “God did not create a jaw without providing for it.”

Her finger became swollen, and fever weighed down her joints as if they had been crushed by a heavy weight, and her limbs trembled. She caught sight of a black scorpion among the firewood, smiling as she repeated; (They said; come closer, O death, he said; come closer, O ailment) and she called out in a weary voice; her neighbor (the orphan) who had been living in the village for years heard her; and (Hashwan) beside her was deaf and mute; with flies buzzing over his face; not moving a muscle. So, she came to her, pale; and knocked on a clove of garlic, tied it to her finger, left for her house, and returned with a bowl of butter; she warmed it until it was hot; and gave it to her, covering her with a blanket, and the sleeper stirred, causing the blanket to slip off him, and she was horrified by what she saw, so she quickly stood up and replaced the blanket, nearly falling over in embarrassment from the horror of the sight she had witnessed, wishing it could last for hours.

(Um Hashwan) asked her neighbor to take her sheep out of the pen, she said; your son the sleeper will take them out, she replied; keep him busy and don’t scare him, so the neighbor gladly obliged her request, approached him, and called out to him, the edges of the blanket rising and falling, he startled awake, rubbed his eyes, wondering; where is my mother? She answered him; there’s a scorpion in the story; get up and take care of my sheep and yours, and I will catch up with you shortly. He focused on her, and if she was concentrating her gaze on his waist, and the heat of her breath was fanning a face between him and the water, and his mother’s panting grew louder, so he got up, the refreshing scent of his neighbor’s jasmine wafting in his brain, stepped over the threshold, then straightened his wing, and responded to nature’s call, adjusting himself as he saw fit, and pulled his shawl over his mouth, his eyes scanning the area for any men, while his mother struggled against evil, and he was distracted.

He herded the sheep, and the scholar noticed him, remembering that his mother had not greeted him as she usually did every day, so he asked him; where is your mother, Hashwan, she hasn’t come down? He lowered his head, so he looked at him and replied; you, O scholar, are you a scholar of men or women? And he retorted; you only ask about the women, she went out, came back, married and divorced, you don’t care about your old age and shame yourself, you weak-minded? The scholar felt ashamed; so he put his hand into a basket full of corn cobs, barely having cut them, he took out a handful and said; roast this, O orphan, and let your sheep graze, we’ve closed the barn, and added; I only asked you out of respect for the neighbor’s rights, he thought to himself; you deserve the torment.

The village buzzed with the story of the scorpion, and they flocked to the house of their kind neighbor, some bringing gifts and others returning greetings; and the scholar prepared a potion with saffron and dissolved it in a bowl, and gave it to her while his eyes were on her ample bosom; repeating; (In the name of God, the healer, the safe, and in the name of the one who is not harmed, may you not be harmed), he intentionally shook his hand, letting the water drip over her neck and beauty, and noticed the orphan, breaking a piece in the bowl of butter; he said; feed her and don’t overdo it, she replied firmly; this is Hashwan’s fate, he took the sheep out and didn’t swallow his saliva, stay with his mother, and when Hashwan has breakfast, prepare your breakfast and hers, he was elated as if she had given him a treasure from Aden.

(Hashwan the orphan) discovered a remedy for the hunger of the poor, and a sedative for the restless, so he distanced himself from his mother; in the attic, and his feelings harmonized with his body; his mother feared scandal, and decided to marry him, especially since her neighbor the orphan; had begun to insist on him; sometimes asking him to come grind grain for her, sometimes to sharpen the hoe, and sometimes to help with the donkey, so she asked the scholar to find him a bride, and promised him a sheep from the best of her flock, he puffed out his chest saying; your son is my son, and you have nothing but to keep him, he has not entered our village like her, and as soon as the news reached the orphan, she prepared for him, and knocked late at night, on a wooden wall covered with mud, separating her house from Um Hashwan’s house; so his mother woke him; he began to wonder what kind of knocking their neighbor was making, so he went out, and she went out, and he never returned after that, neither he nor the orphan; who said; a jinn took him, and who said; he threw himself into the pool of abandonment; and who said; the orphan took him to her homeland, and the mother began to mourn, repeating (God forgive you, O Hashwan the orphan, you have neither wool nor kindness), the scholar replied to her; rejoice in the wool and kindness, and the beating of drums, and we are the hands, and the swords glistened, and the joints cracked, and he sang (O you who marry the orphan’s mother, how great is your reward, as if you are watering pilgrims, between Safa and Al-Hatim).