Benyamin: Goat Days

My suspicion turned out to be correct. It was the mark of wheels. My Lord, Rabb al alameen , this mark could signify so many things. That some human being had been here! That there is human presence nearby. That there is a road somewhere nearby. That there is a human settlement somewhere nearby. A little lamp of hope was lit in that great world of darkness.

We decided to follow that track. We firmly believed it would lead us to a secure place. The wheel marks were not of a vehicle belonging to any human being. It was the mark made by the wheels of Allah’s vehicle. A pointer to escape. Allah, thank you. A thousand thanks. A billion thanks.

Still we were apprehensive. A breath of wind would have been enough to end all that hope. If the wind turned direction, that wheel mark would dissolve into nothing. But that day, Allah was with us. He did not permit the wind to even stir. Forgetting all our discomfort, we started to run. I forgot the ache in my legs, the twitches, the swelling, the pain, the burning, the cuts, everything. We reached the path before the wind blew it away. Twisting and turning, it went on as we ran alongside. Our dreams also came alive.

I am not sure how long we ran following the flicker of hope. It was dusk when we were sure that we had almost reached our destination. But, in an unfortunate turn of events, the wind which had been dead throughout the day, suddenly sprang up and vigorously carried away the wheel trail on its wings.

We stood shocked. When the storm subsided, only endless emptiness stretched wide open before us. Desperately, I broke into a cry. I looked towards the heavens. ‘Enough, Lord, enough. Please don’t play games with me any more, Lord. I can’t stand being mocked by you any longer.’ Ignoring Ibrahim Khadiri’s entreaties to go on, I lay over the sand waves, like the remains of a shipwreck. One more evening was washed away in tears.

Dawn had not yet broken. I was jolted out of sleep by an unfamiliar sound. It must have been a dream. I closed my eyes. Again that sound. I woke up. The desert, discarding all its fury, was sleeping serenely. One could clearly hear even distant sounds. Again that sound. I listened, paying close attention. When fully loaded vehicles pass through the highway, their tyres make a peculiar sound. How many times had I heard it in the silent hours of the night back at the masara. Surely, this too is the sound of a vehicle moving at some distance, somewhere. I could hear the traffic intermittently.

Before me was a reasonably big hill. There must be a highway on the other side of this hill, unless my senses had completely failed me and this noise was the hallucination of my tired mind. Vehicles passed through that highway! I scrambled up from my sleep. ‘Ibrahim!’ I screamed. ‘We have reached. We have reached.’ My mind was fluttering with joy. I ran to where Ibrahim was sleeping. But he wasn’t there. I looked all around. Ibrahim wasn’t there anywhere.

‘Ibrahim! Ibrahim!’ I shouted, moving around the place. There was no reply from anywhere. Where had he gone? He had gone to sleep along with me. ‘Ibrahim! Ibrahim!’ I shouted again and again, searching for him. All those shouts blended into the desert’s infinity without any answer.

The first light broke in the desert’s eastern corner. The pall of darkness disappeared. Right in front of me, sand and hill came into view. Assisted by the light, I looked around for a long time. Ibrahim Khadiri was nowhere. Climbing up a sand dune, I looked all around. There was no sign of him. It was only after a lot of searching that I accepted the truth. My guide and my saviour Ibrahim Khadiri had disappeared from my life forever. Without leaving a trail.

I felt lonely and sad, as if I was the last man on earth. I cried sitting on the sand. Ibrahim, you left me alone like this, on the way to where? Weren’t we together all these days? All through the misery and the sorrow. And here we are, about to reach the road to safety. At most an hour’s walk to the highway. But where are you? Where did you disappear last night? You could have told me. You could have said a goodbye, at least.

It was only after the day grew hot that I got up from there and walked. I found that walk a hundred times more difficult than all my days of walking with Ibrahim. I felt like I was moving backwards. How much that solitude hurt me! Finally, by about evening I reached the road. It was not a highway on which a lot of vehicles passed. A vehicle came along once in a while. They were mostly trailers carrying heavy loads. Infrequently, some cars screamed past. Worn out, I extended my hand at every vehicle. But all the vehicles ignored me and went on their way, leaving me very frustrated. As each vehicle moved away, I kept hoping that the next one would surely stop for me and take me along. But luck was not with me. No driver showed any sympathy. Rather, Allah didn’t direct any driver to do so. Thus, I passed one more night orphaned by Allah.

Day broke. The flow of vehicles, which had almost ceased in the last quarter of the night, started again. Most of them were vehicles carrying heavy loads. Going down to the middle of the road, I waved my hand at each vehicle. That day too every vehicle ignored me and drove past me. I wasn’t surprised. Seeing the shape that I was in after three years in a masara, people would not have wanted to take me along. And after many days of wandering in the desert, I had completely ceased to resemble a human being.

My hunger and thirst kept growing. It had already been three days since we set off from the oasis. I just couldn’t imagine losing my life after coming this close to freedom. I hated myself as Allah wouldn’t look at me. What sin had I committed to deserve this? I asked, beating my chest. Allah, you made me lose both my friends in the desert. The desert dried Hakeem to death and made Ibrahim vanish. You have brought me till here. For what? For what? It remains unanswered in my mind.

The afternoon blaze soon set in. More vehicles kept moving past me. I saw a very expensive car zooming in from afar. I knew there was no use waving at it. Why would the driver let me get into such a car when even trailer drivers sneered at me! Still something inside me urged me to wave at the car as it drew near. Naturally, it didn’t stop and went past me. But, at a short distance past me, it screeched to a halt. I was surprised. Did it stop because I signalled? After wondering for a second if the car had actually stopped for me, I ran towards it. Inside it was a handsome, richly dressed Arab. Lowering the car window, he asked me something. I didn’t know what to answer. Revered Arab, how many vehicles have gone past me since yesterday. Nobody stopped for me. You didn’t ask what do you want, why are you staying here, how did you land here. You felt like applying your feet on the brake for me. Enough. That is sufficient for me. Unconsciously, my eyes overflowed.

The Arab didn’t ask me anything after that. He opened the back door of his vehicle for me. He beckoned me to sit inside. Then he drove down the road with me.

I hesitated to sit straight on the spotless seat of that splendid vehicle. Still, I sat. Some time after I got in, he switched off the air conditioner and lowered the windows. He covered his nose. I knew it was because of my stench. Had he wanted, he could have thrown me out of the car. But he didn’t show any annoyance. I asked that great man for some water. He gave me a bottle of water. I emptied it at one go. He asked me if I wanted another bottle. I nodded my head. He gave me another one. I drank that too. Still my thirst was not quenched. But politeness restrained me from asking for more.

Slowly I reclined on the seat. I was so tired I soon fell asleep. So, I don’t know how long I travelled. I only woke up when the vehicle stopped in a city area. It was almost evening by then. I looked all around perplexed. Very huge buildings. Many people and a lot of commotion. Heavy traffic. After travelling for some more distance, the Arab parked the car by the side of the road and looked back at me. I understood that was my signal to get down. How could I express my gratitude to that great man who tolerated me for so long? In return for his goodwill, I could only give him a teardrop. He didn’t ask anything. He didn’t say a word.