A hotel guest invents a room behind a private door. A brief glimpse and a receptionist’s calm answer change what he writes, without opening the door to him.
01Read the Arabic story
الْبَابُ الَّذِي كُتِبَ عَلَيْهِ «خَاصٌّ» فِي الْفُنْدُقِ
فِي دَفْتَرِ رِحْلَتِي، وَصَفْتُ بَهْوَ الْفُنْدُقِ بِأَرْضِهِ اللَّامِعَةِ وَمَقَاعِدِهِ الْوَاسِعَةِ. ثُمَّ لَفَتَنِي بَابٌ ضَيِّقٌ قُرْبَ مَكْتَبِ الِاسْتِقْبَالِ، عَلَيْهِ لَوْحَةٌ تَقُولُ: «خَاصٌّ». لَمْ يَحْمِلْ رَقْمًا كَأَرْقَامِ غُرَفِ الضُّيُوفِ. تَوَقَّفَ قَلَمِي عِنْدَهُ؛ كَأَنَّ صِغَرَ اللَّوْحَةِ يُؤَكِّدُ أَنَّ وَرَاءَهَا مَا يَسْتَحِقُّ وَصْفًا أَطْوَلَ مِنَ الْبَهْوِ كُلِّهِ. رَأَيْتُ الْمِقْبَضَ النُّحَاسِيَّ، وَلَمْ أَكُنْ قَدْ رَأَيْتُ مَا وَرَاءَهُ.
تَخَيَّلْتُ قَاعَةً لِضُيُوفٍ يَدْفَعُونَ أَكْثَرَ، أَوْ شُرْفَةً لَا تَظْهَرُ فِي صُوَرِ الْمَوْقِعِ. كَتَبْتُ: «هُنَا يَخْتَبِئُ الْجُزْءُ الْأَجْمَلُ مِنَ الْفُنْدُقِ». وَحِينَ فُتِحَ الْبَابُ لِيَخْرُجَ مُوَظَّفٌ، لَمَحْتُ غَلَّايَةً وَكُوبًا عَلَى طَاوِلَةٍ صَغِيرَةٍ. كَانَ الْكُرْسِيُّ عَادِيًّا، وَعُلِّقَ مِعْطَفٌ عَلَى الْجِدَارِ. أُغْلِقَ الْبَابُ قَبْلَ أَنْ أَرَى بَقِيَّةَ الْغُرْفَةِ، فَأَبْقَيْتُ الْجُمْلَةَ فِي دَفْتَرِي، وَلَكِنَّنِي وَضَعْتُ بَعْدَهَا عَلَامَةَ اسْتِفْهَامٍ.
سَأَلْتُ مُوَظَّفَةَ الِاسْتِقْبَالِ إِنْ كَانَتِ الْغُرْفَةُ مُخَصَّصَةً لِضُيُوفٍ آخَرِينَ. قَالَتْ إِنَّهَا غُرْفَةُ اسْتِرَاحَةِ الْعَامِلِينَ. لَمْ تَعْرِضْ أَنْ تَفْتَحَهَا لِي، وَلَمْ تُفَصِّلْ مَا فِيهَا. أَضَافَتْ: «لَيْسَ الْبَابُ دَعْوَةً إِلَى الْمُشَاهَدَةِ». كَانَ صَوْتُهَا هَادِئًا، وَبَقِيَتِ الِابْتِسَامَةُ الَّتِي اسْتَقْبَلَتْنِي بِهَا. سَأَلْتُهَا عَنْ وَقْتِ اسْتِرَاحَتِهَا، فَقَالَتْ إِنَّ زَمِيلَتَهَا سَتَأْتِي بَعْدَ دَقَائِقَ لِتَأْخُذَ مَكَانَهَا.
عُدْتُ إِلَى مَقْعَدِي، وَتَرَكْتُ الْمَمَرَّ أَمَامَ الْبَابِ خَالِيًا. مَحَوْتُ الْجُمْلَةَ عَنِ الْجُزْءِ الْأَجْمَلِ، وَلَمْ أَكْتُبْ بَدَلًا مِنْهَا أَنَّ الْغُرْفَةَ بَائِسَةٌ. كُنْتُ سَأَحْكُمُ عَلَيْهَا بِالْمَقْيَاسِ نَفْسِهِ: مَا تَعْرِضُهُ عَلَيَّ. الْغَلَّايَةُ الَّتِي لَمَحْتُهَا لَمْ تَكْشِفْ كُلَّ شَيْءٍ، وَلَمْ تَكُنْ حَاجَةُ شَخْصٍ إِلَى الْجُلُوسِ وَحْدَهُ فِقْرَةً نَاقِصَةً فِي وَصْفِ رِحْلَتِي.
جَاءَتِ الزَّمِيلَةُ، وَنَقَلَتْ مُوَظَّفَةُ الِاسْتِقْبَالِ إِلَيْهَا دَفْتَرَ الْمَوَاعِيدِ. ثُمَّ مَرَّتْ نَحْوَ الْبَابِ الْخَاصِّ، فَرَفَعَتْ يَدَهَا تَحِيَّةً لِي. رَدَدْتُ التَّحِيَّةَ وَبَقِيتُ فِي مَكَانِي. عِنْدَ الْمَسَاءِ، قَرَأْتُ مَا كَتَبْتُ عَنِ الْبَهْوِ. أَضَفْتُ أَنَّ الْبَابَ كَانَ هُنَاكَ، وَأَنَّنِي لَمْ أَدْخُلْ. بَقِيَتْ فِي الدَّفْتَرِ مَسَاحَةٌ بَيْضَاءُ؛ هَذِهِ الْمَرَّةَ، لَمْ أَحْتَجْ إِلَى أَنْ أَمْلَأَهَا.
Show English translationHide English translation
In my travel notebook I described the hotel lobby, with its polished floor and wide seats. Then a narrow door near reception caught my attention. Its sign said “Private.” Unlike the guest-room doors, it had no number. My pen paused there, as though the smallness of the sign confirmed that something behind it deserved a longer description than the entire lobby. I saw the brass handle; I had not yet seen what lay beyond it.
I imagined a lounge for guests who paid more, or a balcony absent from the website photographs. I wrote, “The hotel’s most beautiful part is hidden here.” When the door opened for an employee to come out, I glimpsed a kettle and a cup on a small table. The chair was ordinary, and a coat hung on the wall. The door closed before I could see the rest of the room. I kept the sentence in my notebook but put a question mark after it.
I asked the receptionist whether the room was reserved for other guests. She said it was the staff break room. She did not offer to open it for me or describe its contents in detail. She added, “The door is not an invitation to look.” Her voice was calm, and she kept the smile with which she had welcomed me. I asked when her break was, and she said her colleague would arrive in a few minutes to take her place.
I returned to my seat, leaving the passage in front of the door clear. I erased the sentence about the most beautiful part without replacing it with a claim that the room was miserable. I would have judged it by the same measure: what it displayed to me. The kettle I had glimpsed did not reveal everything, and someone’s need to sit alone was not a missing paragraph in my account of the trip.
The colleague arrived, and the receptionist passed her the appointments book. Then she went towards the private door, raising her hand to greet me. I returned the greeting and stayed where I was. In the evening I read what I had written about the lobby. I added that the door was there, and that I had not entered. A white space remained in the notebook; this time I did not need to fill it.
02Useful words from the story
| Arabic in the story | Meaning here |
|---|---|
| بَهْوَ | the lobby of |
| الْمِقْبَضَ | the handle |
| النُّحَاسِيَّ | made of brass |
| غَلَّايَةً | a kettle |
| لَمَحْتُ | I glimpsed |
| مُخَصَّصَةً | reserved; assigned |
| اسْتِرَاحَةِ | the break of |
| خَالِيًا | clear; unoccupied |
| بَائِسَةٌ | miserable |
| بِالْمَقْيَاسِ | by the measure |
03Check your understanding
Choose one answer per question. Follow the changing perspectives and distinguish what the text shows from what its characters assume.
What to remember
- A visible detail can unsettle an imagined account without revealing an entire private space.
- The guest’s account becomes more precise when he records its limit rather than treating another person’s rest as missing content.
Explore the Arabic in this story
Related grammar and vocabularyOpen Araqick guides connected to this story.
Kana in Arabic: Was and Were
كَانَ الْكُرْسِيُّ عَادِيًّا
Keep the chair nominative and its ordinary description accusative in a past state.
Arabic Relative Pronouns: Joining Ideas with Alladhi and Allati
الِابْتِسَامَةُ الَّتِي اسْتَقْبَلَتْنِي بِهَا
Link the definite feminine smile to the clause describing how she welcomed him.
