Ramadan Arabian Nights 2025 : The Tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima “The Apple seller” EP.16

Ramadan Kareem

Due to technical reasons, I posted this episode a bit late, so I think we will pass tonight's chitchat and continue our tale.

But first refresh your mind and remember how Reema returned to her own old ways.

So without further delay, here is the 688th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 16th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima

Episode 16: The Apple seller 

And so, Scheherazade arrived at the appointed hour, greeted the king, and took her seat beside him. Then, she continued her tale, weaving together the threads of the story.

"It has been told to me, O wise and fortunate king, that when Reema heard Kareema's story, she took Mishkah and made her way to the abandoned ruins. As she conversed with him, a fruit vendor passed by, calling out his wares—apples so fair they rivaled rosy cheeks, apples that blended with peaches. When the vendor caught sight of Reema’s apple, he asked for its tale. Reema, in turn, sent Mishkah to fetch the rest of the apples, while the vendor settled in, eager to listen.

Now, Reema fell back into her old ways—she took Karima’s story and spun it as her own, telling it with such conviction that it seemed as if it had truly happened to her. But as she spoke, the vendor suddenly transformed before her eyes. He was none other than Sultan Jolan himself, the very king Kareema had glimpsed in the garden. His fury was like a raging storm—he seized Reema and took to the skies, carrying her away to the land of the jinn. And thus, the tale unfolds before us now.

Reema: Who… who are you?

Sultan Jolan: Do not be afraid, O daughter of men.

Reema: What have you done to me?

Sultan Jolan: I merely took what was mine. Your tale is not yet complete, and you are here, hidden away where no one knows of your existence—no one but me and the Lord above.

Reema: By your mercy, my lord! I only sought to provide for my children.

Sultan Jolan: The story must reach its end. You saw things I did not, and I know things you do not. When we put our knowledge together, the truth will be revealed. Tell me—after you struck her with the apple, do you know what happened next?

Reema: No… what happened?

Sultan Jolan: Just as the sun was rising, I awoke to find her before me—her hand clutching her eye, her garments soaked in blood. She needed no words, for her suffering spoke for itself.

And now, let us turn back the clock to the events of that night at Sultan Jolan’s palace, where Marjana rushed in to see him.

Sultan Jolan: My queen? What is it? What troubles you?

Marjana: My eye! My eye, my lord!

Sultan Jolan: Your eye? What has happened?

Marjana: Blood! There is so much blood!

Sultan Jolan: Tell me! What happened, my queen?

Marjana: I will tell you, my lord...

Sultan Jolan: Speak!

Marjana: I was walking in the garden…

Jolan: Yes? Yes?

Marjana: And as fate would have it, I passed beneath a great tree. From its branches, an apple fell—striking me straight in the eye!

Jolan: How? Let me see!

Marjana: My eye… my eye!

Jolan: Shouldn’t you have been more careful, my queen?

Marjana: Just look at the blood, my lord!

Jolan: Why are we standing here idly?

Marjana: What will you do?

Jolan: Where is the physician? Bring the physician at once!

Marjana: Must I go, my lord?

Jolan: Come with me!

Marjana: Very well, my lord…

Jolan (to the physician): Well? Speak!

Physician: It is done, my lord.

Marjana: Be careful! You are hurting me!

Physician: Do not worry.

Marjana: Doctor…?

Sultan Jolan: Tell me the truth. The wound—it is far from the eye itself, yes? No real danger?

Physician: By God's mercy, the strike missed the core of her eye. The blood frightened her more than the injury itself.

Marjana: What? What?

Physician: Fear not, my queen. I will bandage it lightly for precaution, and by tomorrow, we shall remove it.

Marjana: Truly?

Physician: Yes, it is nothing serious. Praise be to God!

Sultan Jolan: A blessing indeed, my queen!

Marjana: May the Lord bless you, my king.

Jolan: Be careful next time you walk in the garden.

Marjana: It is my fate, it seems.

Sultan Jolan: And yet… something troubles me.

Marjana: What is it?

Sultan Jolan: When an apple falls from a tree, does it strike one’s eye… or one’s head?

Marjana: Ah… ah… No, it struck my eye…

Sultan Jolan: But how? Explain it to me.

Marjana: I mean… the apple fell, and it hit my eye…

Sultan Jolan: Still, how?

Marjana: My lord, this is not the time! I am exhausted.

Sultan Jolan: Very well, my queen. Rest now.

And with that, Sultan Jolan left Marjana to recover in her chamber.

The court physician bowed before the Sultan and said, "May the Sultaness recover swiftly, my lord."

But Sultan Jolan sat in his throne room, his expression darkened by deep contemplation. His mind was troubled, his thoughts tangled like a web.

The physician, sensing the unease, stepped closer. "What troubles you, O Suhaib, my lord?"

Jolan motioned with his hand. "Come with me."

The physician followed him in silence.

"O Sultan of all the realms," he greeted respectfully, "glory be to you, King of Time. How do you fare this morning, O healer of the jinn?"

The Sultan did not waste time with pleasantries. "I need to ask you something, and I expect an honest answer."

"Ask whatever you wish, my lord."

Jolan glanced around the chamber. "First, ensure we are alone."

"As you command, my king," the physician said, stepping toward the great doors and locking them shut.

"Now, no one can hear us?"

"We are alone, my lord."

Jolan leaned in, lowering his voice. "What you are about to hear must never leave this room. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"No one, do you hear me?"

"I swear it, my Sultan."

Jolan exhaled slowly. "You said the Sultaness’s injury was minor."

"Yes, my lord, nothing to be concerned about."

Jolan’s eyes narrowed. "I am not asking if it is minor or not. I want to know one thing. Tell me your opinion."

The physician hesitated. "I am at your service, my lord."

Jolan’s gaze sharpened. "As a physician and a man of honor, can you determine the exact nature of the injury to her eye?"

"Of course."

"And can you say with certainty how it happened?"

"Yes, my lord."

The Sultan folded his arms. "Then answer this: Can a fruit falling from a tree strike someone directly in the eye?"

The physician fell silent.

Jolan’s voice grew tense. "Why are you quiet?"

The physician hesitated before replying, "What do you want me to say?"

Jolan’s voice turned sharp. "Speak plainly. Could this truly be the injury of a falling apple?"

The physician cleared his throat. "If it was indeed an apple, then yes… it could have caused the injury."

Jolan leaned forward. "Can you tell me the exact angle of impact? Did it strike from above, directly into her eye?"

The physician shifted uncomfortably. "My lord, reason and logic must guide us."

Jolan pressed on. "Reason or logic—tell me, did the apple fall from above?"

The physician hesitated before answering, "If it had fallen naturally, it should have hit her head, not her eye."

Jolan’s expression darkened. "So?"

The physician took a deep breath. "The injury is on her cheek, not the top of her head."

Jolan’s fingers tapped against his armrest. "Which means?"

The physician lowered his voice. "If this were a simple falling fruit, the impact would be weak. But the injury is severe, my lord. Which means…" He hesitated.

Jolan’s voice was cold. "Which means someone threw it."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Jolan straightened, his decision made. "That is all I needed to hear. I am leaving now. And remember—this conversation never happened."

The physician bowed. "As you command, my Sultan."

Jolan turned and strode out of the chamber, his mind racing with possibilities.

The truth was beginning to reveal itself.

The Hidden Truth

The following morning, as the golden light of dawn spread over the palace gardens, the Sultaness Marjana entered the chamber.

"Good morning, my lord," she greeted.

The Sultan glanced at her and noticed that the bandage was gone. "So, you’ve removed the dressing. In any case, thank God for your safety."

"May your life be long, my lord," she replied.

The Sultan’s tone was calm but firm. "Next time, be more careful when walking in the garden."

Marjana sighed. "It wasn’t exactly my fault. I was just strolling when suddenly, it fell on me."

The Sultan leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "And when an apple falls, does it strike the head or the feet? Fruits drop from trees onto the top of a person’s head—not into their eye."

Marjana hesitated before saying, "You don’t know the whole story."

The Sultan’s eyes narrowed. "And why is that?"

Marjana explained, "I was walking in the garden when I heard a flock of birds above me. I looked up to see them, and the next thing I knew, the apple fell straight into my eye."

The Sultan repeated her words carefully. "You looked up… and the apple fell into your eye?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn’t you tell me this when I asked you before?"

Marjana looked away. "I was dizzy from the pain. I wasn’t even aware of what I was saying at the time."

The Sultan remained silent for a moment before standing up.

Marjana smiled, trying to shift the conversation. "So, shall we have dinner together tonight, as usual?"

"As usual—and perhaps more," the Sultan replied. "Now, I must attend to some matters."

Sultan Jolan drifted from his memories back to his conversation with Rima.

"She left me standing there, and I sat, thinking. I was certain there was a secret behind all this—but what was it? How could I uncover it? What should I do?"

He exhaled deeply. "Then it struck me—the apple was the key. If someone had thrown it, they would know the truth. So, I disguised myself in the form you saw me in, carried a basket of apples, and walked the streets, calling out:
'Whoever can tell me a story about an apple shall receive all the apples I have!'"

Rima’s eyes widened. "And did someone answer?"

The Sultan nodded. "By sheer luck, you called out to me and told me what you knew. But tell me, do you know why you were drawn to speak to me? Do you know who I am searching for?"

Rima lowered her gaze. "My lord, my name is Rima—your humble servant."

Jolan’s expression grew serious. "If there was truly a crime committed, you will be the one to reveal it."

Rima hesitated. "Please, my lord, we are but helpless people. What will you do with this knowledge? What will you do with me?"

Jolan’s voice was calm but resolute. "I will hide you in my private chamber. Tonight, as usual, I will dine with the Sultaness. After the meal, I will rise as if to retire and request a basin of water. When she brings it to me, I will ask for something else, sending her away momentarily. The moment she steps out, I will open the window and pour the water away."

Rima leaned forward. "And you will tell her you drank it?"

Jolan nodded. "I will pretend to drift into sleep. And then… the truth will reveal itself. If your words prove true, O mortal, I shall reward you with a great gift."

Rima bowed. "Your satisfaction is reward enough, my lord."

Jolan smiled. "That is more than sufficient. Now, come with me."

Rima hesitated. "Where are we going, my lord?"

"To my private chamber. I will hide you there so you can hear and see for yourself. But once inside—lock the door behind you."

Jolan led Rima into his chamber and concealed her, setting his plan into motion.

That evening, as he sat down to dine with the Sultaness, the moment of truth began to unfold.

But at that very instant…

And here, Scheherazade realized the dawn had come, and she fell silent, leaving the tale untold.

Here is the 16th episode of our tale televised

Till next night inshallah

You can check previous Ramadan Arabian Nights here.

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