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A story from the heart of the desert by Arabian Oud {R}




It’s a cold December night, the desert has always charmed me during the night, there’s something about it, maybe it’s that special fragrance of Dhehnel -Oud that’s hypnotised my soul, maybe it’s that special face my eyes always search for, or maybe it’s just I enjoy night dreaming, you know people often day –dream but in my case it’s the opposite. I have always been known as a dreamer, it’s an innate feeling, I can’t help but admit “yes I am a dreamer” don’t we all dream, especially when we are asleep? Don’t we weave dreams of achieving something in our life? I totally fell in love with the desert since a very young age, people think I am crazy, some make fun of my extreme love for the desert, sometimes I feel I was born as someone to be here, although a city girl by birth, I have felt more attached to this region of the world.
I have had more passion for living a traditional life rather than a modern one, of course incorporating modernity but not letting my simple life be scattered by the increasing modern trashes. This isn’t about my passion for the desert but about someone I love so much now, I realised the worth of this person in my life, sometimes we realise things so late, just about the moment we are going to lose them. Why does this happen? Ever thought about it? Life, you took away my innocence with that quick breeze, and now I am adult waiting to get old, fighting my inner most fears.
I feel if these special beloveds leave me, I am going to be so alone, and not only that, sometimes I feel I wouldn’t be able to survive, I will probably fall apart and give up without them. Have you ever felt this way? I know you think I am being too emotional but believe me I never thought I would reach a point in my life, when I would realise the worth of human relations as deeply as this.
Love, swept me away in that magical place, and brought me back only in tears and agony, this then broke my trust in ever loving anyone. The inside of me is so empty, like a dry valley, dry well, who is thirsty but has no where to head off to fulfil this thirst, is so content with living in this way that now it fears even falling into love again.

“I painted you and me together, here in this place, I call home, but why do I feel so lonely, even when you’re with me? Maybe because you never loved me truly, and gave me a shoulder only because you pity me.”

Whenever I feel lonely, I head off to this desert, sit here and wander how life is moving on, I learn from these nomads, who are so content with whatever they have, I dreamt of something like this, but I find this so impossible. I ask for no pity or attention, I speak tales of the past and of how I was hurt by someone I once loved.
But when these beloveds walked in my life, I felt I had an anchor to cling on, like a small baby who’s so comfortable and in safe hands. But how do you win back trust? I ask them, do you turn blind and pretend nothing went wrong with the person you once loved and he cheats on you? Life doesn’t stop, I am told, surely it doesn’t , but it doesn’t remain the same, for someone like me, I feel I am half dead, I just want to corner away like a hermit, forget myself and give myself away to those needy people, to their services, to look after them. Despite all this, my heart dreams of my a beloved, my veiled face is looking across the sand dunes, and my kohl eyes gaze at the moon and stars and wish to Allah, hoping I find my desert warrior one day, here…to be with me, forever and ever. I walk away into hiding and leave behind my footsteps in this desert, I call my home…

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