Across the land, to her doors.

Parched throat, dried skin, mentally fatigued and  physically tired he put a step forward only to realize that his knees had given way. The sun was beating hard on his head while the hot wind burned every cell of his skin, sucking out all the moisture from it. The sand particles had started to take flight with the loo, getting stuck in between the hair was a terrible feeling, but worse was clinging on to the sweaty neck and shoulders.


The sand was everywhere, front of him, behind him, a few meters ahead and many more kilometres thereon. Lying on his chest with sand all over his clothes, all that his head said was “let’s go back home”. Picking out his pitcher made from camel stomach, he emptied the contents to finish the remaining into his mouth. Now it looked just like how it was, brand new, dry and ready to be re filled. Sitting up on his knees, he rubbed his face removing the sand particles from his eyes and ears, that feeling was getting worse. Concentrating on the farthest he could see, all he found was only the dry lifeless sand of the mega desert. Amidst square kilometers of sand, stood only one beating soul. All that accompanied him was his foot prints, always waiting for him to make the first move, never by his side.


Looking at the distance covered gave him no joy, while what lies ahead gave him hopes of survival. With his head reeling in confusion which path to take, the little voice in his heart said, “let’s go forward she’d be waiting”. Closing his eyes, he imagined her lovely face, that little inspiration which made him take this arduous task of trekking this mighty desert.

The knees automatically found strength, the spine stood erect, the heat of the sun was now bearable. The sand in the wind could be easily shielded and sweat on his skin only cooled his body. He saw her there, probably a few hundred meters ahead she was waiting for him, open arms. Couldn’t she come a bit towards him. As he stepped forward, she went further away. This is not the time to play he shouted, wondering why it didn’t elicit a response. Maybe she’s challenging me.

Shivering through the night and gasping through the day, he made his way through to reach her shelter. Opening the door, she asked him to come another day as he heard her husband’s call. “Don’t keep me waiting on the bed”. Love for one lust for another.



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