The Breath of the Desert
Title: The Breath of the Desert
Genre: nothing special, maybe adventure
Characters: T.E. Lawrence in his late 20s, some Arabs.
Table: 2
Prompt: #8: Silence
Word Count: 902
Rating: G
Summary: It’s a description of the desert in Wadi Rum, Jordan, as Lawrence must have seen it, but infact it’s my very own experience.
The Breath of the Desert
“Urāns!”
“Al-Lurāns!”
“Aurans!”
The cries for me are such colourful as the sandstone here in Wadi Rum. I had bedded my head on a camel’s saddle for just a while. A few minutes of rest are past and there are advices again, questions, wishes, papers to read and to write, handshakes to do, tea to drink, rice to eat (when we have some). After a long ride the rest in the desert, on a certain well, isn’t a rest at all. It’s more stressful than the boring rides under the burning sun. I don’t know what I hate more. Actually sometimes it’s more love in both things, when I’m in a kind of self-destructing mood, but at time I’ve lost it somewhere between Aqaba and Dara and there is nothing in the whole world that could brings it back to me. What I need now is just a few minutes alone but my duty or what I call duty doesn’t give me seconds at least.
“Na’am …”
“Excuse me, Aurans, you look tired …”
“I am … but it’s alright. What can I do for you, Nadim?”
“We need a neutral person, al-Aurans. There is Abd al-Khalid of the Harith, the big, funny clothed joke of a man …”
“I know him, Nadim. What’s the problem with him?”
“He was lying.”
“What about?”
“About stealing.”
“Please, Nadim, tell me what’s wrong with Khalid. Is it just because he is a Harith or do you have a plausible cause for treating him?”
“The Harith ever steal, al-Aurans! There is the saddle on my camel, Amal. Two hours ago I was riding on it and now we are here resting for half an hour - and it’s gone. I saw the saddle of that camel of that Harith, Nana, and it looks like mine. He stolen it, I know!”
It was always the same. The so called problems the Arabs have are always problems between the tribes. They don’t grew suddenly but were present on every rest we do. My main duty out here isn’t to think about any strategic inventions but to unite the Arab tribes. In reality I have to be some kind of ancient King Salomo - telling no wrong word, be always neutral and firm, never doesn’t show any weakness at all. When it’s gonna be too much I need real rest, you know, pure silence in a deserted countryside, without any people, just to hear absolutely nothing around yourself.
But silence isn’t just hearing nothing - it’s a feeling deep inside. When there’s only me, the sand and the softly, warm breath of the desert, it’s never nothing at all. It’s so much to listen to - in my mind. This silence of the desert helps me to find going back to myself. There is some kind of prophecy in sitting far from any other community in the lonely sand between high, colourful rocks of sandstone, and maybe the people here see me as some kind of prophet; a person - far from their own ethnic and religion - but trying to behave like them, wear their clothes, eat their food. The more I try to be like them the more I loose from myself. In these rare quiet moments I try to think about my past self, try to get it back, but fail on every occasion. The slightest I find sitting in the sand near the I’ve called Seven Pillars of Wisdom is a whispered, almost gone, echo of the grasses in Oxfordshire. The rain I’ve always hated I really miss so much right now. My thoughts circle around quiet, peaceful places, far from any people, the War, and - the most important - far from any responsibility.
I was got back to reality, to my ever present duty, when I noticed a shadow falling upon me. I don’t turned round and I hoped the one in my back would give his advices or questions straight. It was just a very slight hope. Sometimes I believe the Arabs must have a special sense for the thoughts of their comrades. Maybe it’s all about the desert around us. There is nothing else than ourselves we are busy on. And in that deserted countryside you really have to have a very special sense for the hidden signs of life - otherwise you’re lost.
I love Nadim for coming straight in the right moment. Just a few seconds later my decision had been fixed and hadn’t needed any discussion. Too much silence in a desert brought the thinking man to the strangest thoughts. Any religion had it’s starting point in a deserted country. Too many religions the men can’t stand. Too much wars had their beginnings in religion. And I don’t want to be the cause for the next Great War! So I left the silence and went back to the noise, the crowded tents and the responsibility.
On a certain day in the future - let it be near or far - I will find my ever lasting silence, a peaceful rest on a lovely place. Till it’s gonna be like that I have to do my present duty as well as I’m able to do. We all don’t know if there is a certain for ever continuating place we call Eden or Heaven; but if there is I don’t want to have it cancelled for my soul because of nasty behaviour on Earth.
Finis.
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