The story of A̶l̶a̶d̶d̶i̶n̶ Jasmine

Once upon a time, there lived in a grand castle, in an even more grand empire, a princess named Jasmine. Jasmine had just celebrated her 21st birthday in her castle, for she was never allowed to step out in public. After the birthday celebrations were wrapped up and all her esteemed guests had departed, she sat down with her mother, Khadija, to drink some shay (tea) under the bright, full Spring moon and to talk politics. After a robust discussion about the suitability of this or that politician for the new role of Minister of Tourism, Jasmine, who always spoke in a very refined and eloquent manner, grew silent. Khadija peered at her intently, for it was very rare for Jasmine to have nothing at all to say, which meant, Khadija thought, that she must be weighed down by many things all at once. Jasmine was playing with her diamond encrusted ruby ring, moving it up and down her slender finger. She was wearing her favourite abaya, a purple and blue kaftan style dress with a gold drawstring.
“Jasmine?” asked Khadija, as she admired her daughter’s long neck and the way the moonlight bathed her olive skin. “Mama, I want to… Mama, I…” Jasmine hesitated, calculating her words, weighing them. Jasmine took a deep breath. “Mama I would like to let you know that I do not want to get married to Aladdin anymore”. Khadija, able to act with composure in any situation, could not hide her surprise. “Why, Jasmine? You love each other so much, and you went through so much to be together!” she responded. “Yes, Mama, I know, but the thing is – Aladdin knew that I wanted freedom when I accepted his hand in marriage, yet now that we’re engaged it’s clear to me that all he wants to do is live in this castle and dine upon our feasts, and leave his past life behind. I told him about my plans to start a school for women, and he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to “challenge the status quo”. Ever since he lost his magical lamp, he has been sullen and paranoid. And he won’t let me join the women’s soccer team! I mean, Mama, can you believe it? All he’s done is show me a “whole new world” of the patriarchy!” Jasmine exclaimed. Her mother, unfazed by these revelations, sat back into her chair and pulled out a cigarette. She sighed, and lit it up. The smoke danced upon her lips and snaked upwards. The night was still, the palm trees quivered and the stars watched intently, waiting for Jasmine’s mother to respond.
“Jasmine, habibti, you must do what makes you happy. What is important is that you are with someone that supports you,” Khadija told her, placing her hand upon her daughter’s shoulder. Jasmine looked at her mother as she put out the cigarette and searched in her face for disappointment, but found none. Her mother was genuine in her response. Jasmine kissed her mother’s hand and placed it on her forehead. “If heaven lies under the feet of the mother, as the Prophet says, then there must be many heavens under your feet Mama,” said Jasmine. “Thank you for understanding,” she said, as she kissed her mother’s hand again. “I am going to go and write Aladdin a letter and let him know my reasons for breaking the engagement,” she said, as she got up excitedly.
“Don’t forget, you will have to tell your father,” Khadija replied. “Oh, yes… he will be fine. I will let him know you don’t mind,” winked Jasmine as she rushed off.
Khadija sat in the gardens and lit up another cigarette, musing about who would be most suitable for that Minister role.