‘Grandma, those winged giants that you said Leila saw in her youth, what happened to them?’
‘The lamassus? They’re gone.’
‘Where?’
‘Who knows – Europe, America … Now they’re kept in big houses called museums. They’re not in their native soil any more, although one or two might still be around, so keep an eye out. But all the others were borne away – tied to rafts and boats and ferried to rich countries. So I heard from my grandmother and now you heard from me.’
The child blinks in incredulity. It is hard to know what to make of Grandma’s stories sometimes. As much as she adores the old woman, and loves listening to her, the idea of huge hybrid creatures sailing their way from Mesopotamia to America fails to convince her.
‘I know you don’t believe me, Narin, but a story is a flute through which truth breathes. And these are your family stories.’
‘I understand, Grandma.’
‘Remember, child, never look down upon anyone. You must treat everyone and everything with respect. We believe the earth is sacred. Don’t trample on it carelessly. Our people never get married in April, because that’s when the land is pregnant. You cannot dance and jump and stomp all over it. You have to treat it gently. Do not ever pollute the soil, the air or the river. That’s why I never spit on the ground. You shouldn’t do it either.’
‘What if I have to cough?’
‘Well, cough into a handkerchief and fold it away. The earth is not a receptacle for our waste matter.’
Grandma says an elderly Yazidi woman, a dear neighbour of hers, migrated with her children to Germany, where the family settled in the 1990s. The woman was puzzled and saddened when she learnt that people over there filled a bathtub with water and then sat in it to soap themselves. She could not believe that anyone would be senseless enough to plunge into clean water without having first washed themselves.
Grandma says one should also pay homage to the sun and the moon, which are celestial siblings. Every morning at dawn she goes up to the roof to salute the first light, and when she prays she faces the sun. After dark she sends a prayer to the orb of night. One must always walk the earth with wonder, for it is full of miracles yet to be witnessed. Trees you must think of not only for what they are above ground but also for what remains invisible below. Birds, rocks, tussocks and thickets of gorse, even the tiniest insects are to be treasured. But as a water-dowser, it is the Tigris that the old woman holds in the highest esteem.
Narin watches Grandma sweep out the stove as she speaks, the old woman’s slender fingers carefully collecting the ash gathered at the bottom on a tray. Ash is precious, essential for many cures. Sometimes Grandma dips a clove of garlic in the powdery residue and draws symbols on the forehead of an ailing patient. No one can touch that person until the mark completely wears off. At other times, Grandma takes a coin and bends it into a crescent. Then she drops the metal into a bowl of pellucid water, which she places under the bed of a sick person.
Numbers are important and Grandma’s favourite is seven. In order to process an emotion, be it good or bad, you must allow seven days to pass. So if you fall in love, with a lightness to your moves like the speck of pollen on the wing of a butterfly, you have to wait seven days, and, if after that period you still feel the same way, then and only then can you trust your heart. Never make a major decision unless you have spent seven days contemplating it.
If you are cross with someone, or are on the verge of breaking ties with them, once again, you must delay any reaction for seven moons. This is the only way to ensure you will not be led astray by rage or revenge. A deal ought to brew for seven days before it is sealed; a house has to be blessed in seven corners before anyone moves in. You cannot bake a loaf of bread unless the yeast has rested for seven cycles. A newborn baby must be guarded from evil spirits for seven sunrises. There are seven days in a week, seven sages walking the earth, seven regions in the human body, seven sleepers in a cave escaping persecution, seven cardinal sins for which seven doors to hell have been reserved.
