The bride 

On Thursday, the first of April. University Street in the Karrada district was alive with a grand carnival. Fifteen carriages drawn by white horses paraded in majestic succession, perfectly coordinated, one after another. Leading the way was the bride's carriage, the sixteenth in total. This carriage stood out in every aspect. Colours were purposefully scattered across it, and in bold, green Kufic script, it read: Congratulations on your marriage. 

The horse was adorned in attire befitting the occasion, showered in vibrant, glittering colours. The coachman, dressed in colourful garb, his fez standing proudly atop his head, played with a leather rein and whipped the horse with the force of lightning, uttering incomprehensible words that only his companion and faithful horse might understand. The faces of those participating in the celebration glowed with laughter and joy, beaming with contentment. Everyone was happy. 

One remarked playfully, "A good idea... an innovative approach... horse-drawn carriages instead of cars." Another chimed in, "A new trend that might become widespread in the future." Someone else jested, "Atrees' marriage to Fouada is invalid..." The carriages jostled forward, horses neighing, applause growing louder and more vibrant. Bodies, heated by the warmth of the carnival, began to sweat. The women's faces turned redder and shinier. 

Children ran, delighted, drumming behind the horses. The women's ululations, both familiar and unfamiliar, echoed high. Children's voices rose and fell. Young girls sang an Iraqi song by Maida Nuzhet: Tonight is their henna night, and in Basra, they celebrate their wedding. Other girls echoed the second verse: Basra has become a paradise. Everyone was lost in their own world, but the bride and groom were in their own world. 

A smile graced the bride's lips, her dreamy, radiant eyes filled with meaning. The groom, with heartfelt sincerity, said, "Today is the day I've always dreamed of, being by your side, my dear." She lowered her head shyly, a faint smile playing on her lips, and replied, "Me too." He continued "You have no idea how much I love you and how I've longed for this day to come. Believe me, I'm not exaggerating when I say it's the happiest day of my life." 

She remained silent, perhaps out of shyness. He paused, then added, "I will, God willing, provide everything that makes you happy, my love." With a hint of mischief, he continued, "Do I have anything more precious than you now? You are the garden, and I am the gardener." Her lips parted in a broad smile, and her honey-colored eyes and angelic, childlike face radiated contentment. 

She responded, "I will make our home a bed of roses and the air filled with fragrance. I will serve you with the lashes of my eyes and remain faithful to you as long as I live." His heart warmed at her words, which fell upon him like pieces of ice on a scorching day. He gathered his composure and said, "Thank you for these heartfelt emotions... I always knew you were like this. Trust me, my dear, I will buy you a large house by the Tigris, with servants. I will make every room unique in its design and furniture. My love, I want to see you as a queen in this palace, an empress in this home." 

The coachman overheard some of these words, raised his whip high, and struck the horse forcefully as if to say, "Enough lies and deceit on this poor girl." The wedding procession continued its calm march, turning left onto Abu Nuwas Street, where the bars and clubs were. Men with beer bottles waved in celebration of the wedding parade, shouting various words, both polite and impolite. Ululations rose, and voices sang songs from a golden era. Words floated from here and there, indicating that on a wedding day, everything is permissible. 

The procession exited Abu Nuwas Street and turned onto Saadoun Street. The groom, feeling encouraged, said to her, "I will fulfil all your dreams. Don't be surprised, my heart burns for you, almost worshipfully. I will pray to God fervently to achieve our goal." The bride felt reassured by his praise, which was filled with love and devotion. Waves of affection and tenderness rose within her. 

She trusted him more and more, finding comfort in this man who had given her life and restored her identity. She believed his words, seeing them as honey from a sincere heart and a loyal, honorable husband. She drifted into the dreamy world of his rosy words, living in another realm, believing spring would soon bloom for her, unaware of the obstacles the future held. 

The groom continued with his sweet words, sending them to the bride, who was lost in a sea of happiness and perpetual spring. The couple remained immersed in this bliss, the relatives and guests continued their shouting and singing, and the coachman relentlessly whipped the horse. The street was still crowded with people, but the procession moved on joyously. 

Suddenly, the horse's leg twisted, and it collapsed. The bride's carriage quickly overturned, In the hospital, the bride had lost one of her eyes due to a severe blow to her head but the groom was unharmed. The groom looked at his bride intently, said nothing, turned his back, and left the hospital.The next day, he sent a note to his bride in the hospital: It's not proper for me to be married to a one-eyed woman, you are divorced. 

The bride shook her head and said, “Thank God...he failed on the first try." 

By Abdul Zahra Amara 
Translated by Faleeha Hassan

Abdul Zahra Amara Novelist, Storyteller, and Scientific Researcher Birth: 1951, Amara, Maysan Governorate, Southern Iraq Education: Bachelor's degree in Electronic Engineering from the College of Engineering, University of Baghdad, 1976 

Professional Roles: Editor-in-Chief of Sumerian Amarji Magazine Member of the Iraqi Engineers Syndicate with the rank of Consulting Engineer Published Works: Novels: Tomorrow I Will Leave! A Lover from Kanza Rabba Flu in Baghdad No Time for Tears Dogs in the Dark Blood in the Fish Lake The Servants Are on Vacation Baghdad Never Sleeps Fadia Waiting for the Moon The Blonde of Basra I Adore You Until the End of My Life Palace Rats A Forest of Thieves The Glow of Youth Cellist Stories: The Sun Shines in Women's Eyes Misses of Babylon A Cat on the Road When Do You Take Off the Turban? The Secretary and the Fall.