Sunday, February 14, 2010


The golden sand dunes are all around me, hills and hills of them, as far as my sight can reach. I can see it, smell it and even feel it. It’s in my shoes, my hair and even a bit between my teeth. Wondering specifically what it is that makes me feel like getting lost in the grandeur of the desert, I walk on and on and completely lose track of time. With each step, my feet sink into the sand leaving their deep marks behind. Up and down, many a hill I cross.

After I don’t know how many hours when I do wake up, I fail to find the mighty gold sun on my head and the pale cloudless sky above the hills. Instead I see the sky a deep indigo at the eastern end of the horizon and peach-pink at the western one where the reddish-orange sun is about to completely set. The hot humid air that beat cruelly against my skin at noon is at peace with the desert now. As it grows darker, a few tiny specs of light come to life at some distance.

I move in the direction of the light. As I move on more, the handful of specs grows into a huge pool; a whole city is out there. I can now see it because the hills have flattened out into a sandy plain and ceased to be an obstacle in the view. I grow nearer to it and the air starts smelling of baked bread; there is life in a desert too.

- Part 1.