As I am listening to Oum Koulsoum, I notice the reflection of an old man staring at me in the sunglasses lying upside down on the table in front of me. Unabashed, he keeps staring at me even after I spot him. I wave at him, and he waves back with relish. He seems friendly enough. As well as vaguely familiar. Most important, the Egyptian singer’s voice appears to be as dear to him as it is to me. And maybe even dearer, I must confess. I would bet he was a young man when he had heard her first. Back then, she could have been singing live the very song whose recording I am listening to at the moment. That is bound to remain a secret, though. Both Oum Koulsoum and the old man reflected in the sunglasses are creatures of dreams. Sheer dreams. And especially the old man.