Thursday, August 2, 2007

Syuib's Qalam

"You will follow the Caliph even to the Icy North."

And he repeated that twice, to make sure I understood that.

"Even to the Icy North"

Of course I agreed. Anything for the respected Caliph. Why I'd even be flattered to just be in charge of keeping his shoes safe whilst he attends his Isha'a, let alone be given the task to follow his personal Dawah journeys and record them in my writings.

"The path will be long and perilous, but that is why we chose you Syuib. You and no other"

Why? Because I am the infamous Syuib, the wandering poet, part time writer. It is not my writing that fascinates them. It is my will and constitution in my creativity, through hard times and under constant danger, will I be able to record every single event in detail. And that is why I'm chosen. Others will break and falter in battle, writers I mean. Me, I was taught the quill by my mother and the sword by my father. I fear not battle, I long for it. To see the Caliph wield his spectacular forked sword would be spectacular. Why I'd write many poems describing his grace.

"Refrain from battle, focus on your stories. The Caliph has his bodyguards, you just worry about your poems."

By the prophet's beard, that's what I was born to do.

So begins my journey with the Caliph. We travel by camelback through the grassy plateau, west, towards the setting sun. The message has to be spread, the world must know, and I will follow them as they bring it to the ends of the land. Only Allah knows how thrilled I am with this.

I just hope the western tribes aren't too hostile with our party. We may come in peace, but we also come well prepared.

"Have you got your Quill and parchments ready Syuib? " asked the Caliph.

"I have my Lord. Forever light to record our journeys." said I.

"Then let us ride now. The sun is near to set and the winged beasts of north will come out at night. My stomach is empty and we must make camp soon. Will you follow me Syuib?"

Our camels start to gallop, leaving our oasis city, towards the setting sun. My gut feels as if jinns are tickling it from the inside. I smile to the Caliph and ride side by side by him. His bodyguards ride further up front.

"Even to the Icy North my lord. Even to the Icy North. "

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