The Endless Golden Dunes

Chapter 41: Clarification

UMAR

  
Still shoveling, Umar was annoyed at himself. How could he be so weak? He wasn’t even able to handle the flame that was inside him, so how could he expect to be capable of conquering it?
  
Sharply, he dug his shovel through the dung. He had expected this entire job would have him be patient. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect on him. He was becoming more aggressive, more impatient, and he couldn’t help but give in to the emotions around him. Why was he still feeling anger? It should be gone by now if what Gregorios said was true.
  
A horse snorted next to him and Umar turned to him, frowning.
  
‘What do you want? Get away from me.’ He said.
  
Perhaps the beast had listened. It turned its entire body around and went elsewhere in the stable. Umar smiled.
  
‘Now, why can’t more creatures be like that horse? The world would know about half the peace it wants if that was indeed the case.’
  
But his smile quickly faded away when he later took a glance at the same horse and was devastated to find a fresh pile of waste right next to him. Already, flies began swarming it.
  
‘Come on!’ Umar. ‘I compliment you once and you do this to me!’
  
A rage had started brewing inside him, and he was getting the urge to hit the horse with his shovel. He was even walking towards him, but the moment he raised his shovel, he realized. The horse was but an animal, how should it know any better than him? He wasn’t a human, therefore had no real understanding of anything. He was more intelligent than the creature, and so must be the one understanding that it does not understand.
  
Umar lowered his shovel as well as his head.
  
‘Forgive me, O horse,’ he said. ‘For I did not know better and depend on my emotions when I do actions. I apologize to you.’
  
Even Umar himself found this sudden act queer. First, he was apologizing to a horse, and second, he was able to control his emotions. That was the right word. The rage inside him did not disappear, rather it was simply ignored. It still existed, but it was now being tamed.
  
So that was what Gregorios had meant. Umar was to be able to control the fire within himself rather than extinguishing it. That was his job, that was what he was supposed to do. Now it all began to make sense.
  
Umar suddenly had the urge to laugh. It came out as a bit of a giggle, and then it turned it into a bit of a hysterical chuckle. He looked yonder towards where Gregorios was meditating and smiled.
  
‘Old man, you love to reveal wisdom through riddles,’ he said. ‘I wonder how life would be if everything was straightforward. But I think that isn’t the case because wisdom only comes to those who seek it.’
  
For a moment, he stopped his work and looked at the sky. He spotted a fluffy white cloud. It seemed thick and looked to be greying. A sign of rain, or if unlucky, a storm.
  
‘I might need to finish this job early, then I suppose.’

ELIJAH

  

Elijah could not tell if the visions that he was seeing were nightmares or a sign. Whenever he was asleep, he would have a vivid memory with Adam and after it, it would quickly transition into crypticism, as if someone who didn’t know Arabic was trying to communicate.
  
He didn’t know what to make of it, not when burdens lay heavy on his mind. For the first time in a long time, he had begun to think about Adam, and not in passing either. He would dedicate hours of his time simply pondering about his friend, if he is still one that is. How they came to be friends, how they would discuss religion, how they would simply laugh at each other’s jokes. They were all just some of the memories he was replaying in his mind.
  
He would think about Jerusalem in the process as well, and then also about Ahava. How long had it been since he last tasted food made by her hands? A few months? Elijah had lost all sense of time ever since he had joined the army. Why even bother counting the days? Still, that did not matter when gloomy thoughts came to him all the time.
  
If he was really doing things that the Lord disapproved of, what would his father be thinking? He would be above, looking down, and shaking his head, saying ‘I did not expect this from you, my son.’ It was a thought Elijah was more than happy to throw away. Yet he couldn’t do such things. He had to live with the strange way he was feeling.
  
But what was that feeling?
  
Was it … guilt?
  
But guilt for what?
  
‘Go to Hell, you infidel.’
  
That was the last thing Elijah ever said to Adam before they parted.
  
A pain, as if a hand had gripped his heart, came to him. He wanted to scream, but there was a knot in his tongue. This was guilt, then? This is what the pain of guilt felt like? It was devastating, and it made him want to die, but then there would be Hamza to stop him.
  
He couldn’t do anything.
  
He was a wheel.
  
A wheel in a cart alongside a sea of other wheels.
  
Forced to spin ever on and on.
  
No one regarding his feelings.
  
Elijah let out a breath he did not know he was holding. The invisible hand that was choking him had finally released its grip. Still, Elijah breathed hard, trying to find a regular flow of air. When he finally found it, it gave him a comfortable space to think clearly. The guilt in him was becoming a dark cloud, and there was no way Elijah was able to remove it.
  
But the reason for the guilt was because he was doubting his beliefs. Were all Muslims really bad when people like Hamza existed? If all Muslims were like the ones who murdered Isaac, wouldn’t every Christian have been massacred in Jerusalem? If the reason he hated the Muslims was because they were hostile to Christians, did that make him a hypocrite?
  
And there was the realization. He was doing the very thing he hated. He was becoming the person that he never wanted to be. But religion was never the reason he did everything, right?
  
‘The Jews will praise you, Adam! They will be proud of you! They will remember you as Adam the Saviour. Do you not want that glory? Are you this ambitionless?’
  
He used religion for everything. He did not see what was good or what was bad. He simply saw what he wanted, and he claimed that it was a divine command. He mixed the laws of God with his own desires. That was not religion. Not in the least. He was not following God’s commandments.
  
But then what were His commandments?
  
‘Forgiveness is a great thing,’ Gregorios continued. ‘Sure, it may not change anything from the past. The deed you forgave a person for will not be reversed. By forgiving the murderer of your relative, it will not bring your relative back from the dead. But what does forgiveness really do? What it does is make more opportunities. Perhaps the murderer will learn from mercy, and no one else has to suffer as you did. Forgiveness is not only something comforting for the one you forgive, it is beneficial for the forgiver also. From his breast, a great burden is lifted. He says to himself: “I hold no grudges, petty or serious alike. Therefore, I have no need to fight.” The desire to fight and punch someone is the desire that harms the mind the most. It ruins you, leaves you in a dark hole. Revenge is for the strong, but forgiveness is for the stronger.’
  
Forgiveness.
  
That was the single commandment. That was the grand order that the Lord had given to His children. So Elijah must be able to forgive the ones who killed his father? Why would he do that? Sure, they might be burning in Hell at the moment, so why bother even thinking about them let alone pardoning them.
  
But was his pardon beneficial for them, or for him?
  
If he was to forgive them, it would have their chances to go to Heaven increase, but for Elijah … what would happen? It was beneficial for Elijah. But how? How was forgiving someone else a good thing for him.
  
And he realized.
  
If he were to have forgiven them, he would have never gone to war, never would have yelled at Adam, never would have … ruined his life.
  
But hadn’t he already ruined his life?
  
And Elijah looked at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, thinking of the cross and the Jesus that hung on it. No. He still had a chance. Adam was alive, Ahava was alive, and he was alive. There was still some kind of hope left.
  
He still had the chance of redemption.
  
Guilt was the first step to it, the first thing one saw in the journey of what was best described as true happiness. Yes. It felt a bit delusional to say such a thing – Elijah felt like a poet – but perhaps it was true.
  
He looked towards Hamza who was talking and comforting another soldier. They were laughing and Hamza was giving him water as well as tightening the linen that was around his injured leg. He must have seen Elijah staring, and he turned his neck to face him. There was a distance of many meters between them, yet Elijah felt that they were sitting right next to each other.
  
And Hamza smiled at him. Elijah felt a twitch on his mouth, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
  
Maybe, just maybe, there were more good people in this world than he thought.

ISMAEL

  
‘Ah, but I do not know anything about wood-carving.’ Said a rather fidgety soldier.
  
He was a clean-shaven lad of about nineteen, close to manhood. Despite it, he had a boyish face and eyes that sparkled like a child’s. He often talked as if he was trying hard not to stammer on his words.
  
‘But you’re interested in it, aren’t you?’ Ismael asked.
  
‘I am, but I never really had the opportunity to do such things back in my home city. Which is why I came to you, Ismael sir.’
  
‘Please do not call me “sir”. It makes me feel old, and there is only a few years difference between our ages. But anyway, if you want to learn, we can start with the basics. Should that be good?’
  
‘I … I think so?’
  
‘I shall take that as a yes. Now, watch the dagger, Ahmad.’
  
Ismael demonstrated with a small knife and a rectangular piece of wood.
  
‘Not all wooden things are smooth,’ Ismael continued. ‘They are rough, asymmetrical, and a total pain to deal with. So you make a somewhat regular shape. Here I have a nearly perfect block, and all it needs is some cutting around the edges.’
  
He showed Ahmad how to do it. Carefully handling the knife with a strong grip, he cut slivers of wood until it was more symmetrical than it was before.
  
‘See? Now we can plan on what we must do with it. The soul is similar. You must cut out any excess things from it in order to truly see what you are capable of.’
  
‘Pardon?’
  
Ismael stopped, and thought about what he just said. He sighed and shook his head.
  
‘Ignore me. I didn’t mean to become an amateur poet.’
  
Perhaps it was because of Ali that he had developed the habit of talking as if he was a mystic. The man was becoming more and more philosophical with his talks with Gregorios as well as interactions with Umar whom he heard was planning on controlling his anger.
  
‘I actually quite like that analogy.’ Ahmad smiled.
  
‘These are but the blabberings of my tongue. Really, you should ignore them.’
  
‘Well, if you wish that, all right.’
  
Ismael thanked him and continued teaching. As he resumed, he felt that with every cut, he was becoming happier, with every nod from Ahmad, he was more distracted from his cruel thoughts. He was traveling, traveling on a spiritual road, to his destiny.
  
And he was grateful for that.

ABBAS

  

Abbas had taken to interact with every injured comrade there was in the healing room. He was eager to hear their stories, where they came from, and what their life was like before they had joined the army. In a short period of time, he had managed to meet farmers, slaves, scholars, soldiers who had fought before, shepherds, merchants, and many more. Each time, he felt his soul become more happy, and his heart expanded. The mountains had spoken the truth. Indeed, if he gave a bit of ishq, he would find purpose in it.
  
He looked towards Salman, and he frowned. The boy was miserable, always fidgeting and murmuring, quick to harm himself. Usually, he would be talking about a ‘deep secret’, though Abbas had no idea what that was. He had tried to ask him, but he had only been met with vain results. Even now, he wanted to ask him, but he no longer had the will to do such.
  
‘The child’s mad, I can tell you that much.’ Said a soldier who had caught him staring.
  
‘That cannot be true, though, can it?’
  
‘Believe me, Abbas, I have seen too much to not know. The boy’s under the maddening influence of stress. When that happens to people, they don’t really come back from it. It’s a deep, dark hole, and it consumes you until it reduces you to nothingness. He ain’t going to be any much of an exception.’
  
‘Have some hope. He might make it through.’
  
‘Ha! Haven’t seen this much optimism since listening to a sermon of an imam. But you do what you do. I will not say much.’
  
Abbas frowned at the hopelessness of the man. Yet, he couldn’t help but believe the prediction himself. What if Salman did end up turning mad? What then? But perhaps Abbas was doing the wrong thing. He should be preventing that from happening instead of worrying that the event may occur.
  
One last time, he looked at the soldier and his eyes that had seen