ҳ̸Ҳ̸ҳ The Arrival ҳ̸Ҳ̸ҳ ( Short story )
Saturday, August 29, 2009 Read more → Creative-Writing In the name of God, entirely Compassionate, especially Merciful | Peace be with you
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In the name of God, The Compassionate & Most Merciful
بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمنِ الرَّحِيمِ
| Peace be with you|
السلام عليكم
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-- The Arrival --
Waleed wakes up to the sound of the serenading breeze, moaning through the silent desert night. The room's ambiance consists of the gentle flicker of a lone candle in the corner, while the dried up parches of shrubs and leaves form the sustenance of his sleeping area.
Like many in the town, the underprivileged state of affairs and consistent strife of every day life; doesn't pose much of a threat to his sense of mental peace nor the simpleton within; yet does offer a regular reminder as to what remains missing in the social composite of its fabric.
The central square in the midst of the community, acts as a hustling bustling hub of regal aristocracy mixed with the lavish trappings of materialistic success, brought on by an annual foray of ritual odysseys from far flung cities encompassing the peninsula.
After taking a sip of water from the camel skin vessel by his bed, he looks out of the window unto the horizon. It's unusual to witness a peculiar form of silentious commotion down the street, emanating from an area at the destitute end of the town, late at this hour.
Nonetheless, his curiosity whispers to the aroused conscience and he walks down to investigate the unfamiliar oddity. The winding streets make their way through the narrow enclaves of the neighborhood, as the tender glow of the unvoiced moon caresses his face, whilst the texture of carpeted rooftops glisten quietly in their typical mystique.
It isn't long before he finds himself standing beside the town blacksmith amongst a handful of huddled people just outside one of the houses. He watches the familiar faces exchange curious whispers in anticipation of the unknown; as his own sense of urgency starts to stir underneath his skin.
"What's going on?", he asks in a hurriedly inquiring tone.
The blacksmith responds unassumingly; "Nobody knows! It..."
Suddenly, the door opens and Waleed realizes that...
It is him.
Somehow the face had a unique radiance that could be fathomed even in the dark of a starless night. The patches on his torn clothes, the generous demeanor, the invigorating musk of his scent and the look of an intrinsic truth in his eyes - all spoke of a common denominator that were recognizable traits.
However, it is when he starts speaking now, that the collective whispers turn to shared placidity. An aura of soundless calm descends upon the crowd, as they stand in awe listening to the words exuding out of his humble lips.
Standing in the middle of such silence, the hair on Waleed's body swirl in captivation, while his mouth becomes dry, his eyes slowly begin to moisten up like an untouched well and his heart thumps harder, as he watches him address the gathered few with unspoken words that had never dared to enter the confines of this nescient settlement before.
......
It had finally begun.
An arrival that would paint the canvas of the desolate dunes of this place, transforming them into the splendor of a truth that shall last through the tests of time.
He finds himself immersed in the reassuring respite of tears, as the end of the communion paves the way for the cloak of the night to unveil itself into the 'hope' of dawn; with him enjoining in the solemn vows and cries of the words fading through the air:
"There is no god but God, and Muhammad is His servant and messenger"
~ The End
[ A fictional account of events, entwined with factual realism - of how things would have transpired, if seen through the eyes of an ordinary 6th century Meccan, on the night of the Prophet (saws) first sermon at the commencement of his prophetic mission to the pagan Arabs of the time ]
Peace & respect ★
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