Thursday, 23 August 2012

Gold Dream

 I felt my soul soaring when the dawn breeze caressed the surface of the vast sea, I dipped my feet into salty cool water and met the winds with open arms. Here, where the sand and sea merge with the skies above, here where giant large mountains embrace a big blue sea

I will unpack and nestle here for a while, on the shore of  Dahab, a Bedouin fishing village by the sea.

Dahab is Arabic for gold,  Some locals attribute the name to the color of the sky, just after sunset. Another local story concerning the town's name is that it stems from the floods that wash through the town every five or six years. Larger than average seasonal storms in the mountains cause a great rush of water to surge down to the sea, dragging with it great amounts of sand. During this time, the town is cut in two by the flood, and the bay is stirred up and the sands turn it a golden yellow. It typically lasts a few days, and has caused damage and loss of life in the past as people were unaware of the sudden onset and the force the water moves at. Today, locals are ready when they see the clouds over the mountains, and anyone lucky enough to witness it will remember it for a long time.

I'm still amazed at the amount of good this land has shown me and how upon arrival it felt just like home, and so for now I shall rest my weary heart in the arms of the mountain and breath in the many colors of the sea and let it all shape my days. 

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

The Khushushban

Once upon a night lit by oil lamps and candle light, an amber glowing memory of a tale my grandma wove and spun, with threads of magic and wonderment...

A tale of  a very strange enchanted prince, locked within a magical suite, made of logs and wood...
with two holes to see the world, unable to touch unable to hold

The rest will be left untold, forgotten or maybe hidden, in the folds of once upon a memory from my  child hood, where a tale is waiting to be remembered,
waiting to be retold...

And just before you wonder or even ask yourself,
this oddity, strangeness, wonder
none but khsuhushban himself.

"Stories you read when you're at the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you'll forget the precisely what happened, but if the story touches you it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind that you rarely ever csur." ~Neil Gaiman