Nadia of the
Nile
This is a story from a long time ago,
A time when I was young and not so very old,
I was in the midst of a journey from Beirut to
Tehran,
I had stopped in the desert to rest for the night,
It was cold, it was freezing,
Not a soul could be heard,
I was singing to my camel and putting her to sleep,
Rest was imperative, as from our destination we were
still far.
Suddenly out of nowhere a voice awoke me with a
start,
Do you mind if I could spend the night in your
caravan?
To this I enquired, ‘What name do you go by?’
And then she replied, ‘I am Nadia of the Nile,
I was robbed of my tent in a skirmish by the town,
The wind, it is biting, and I am chilled to the
bone,
I think I am injured and can’t carry on.’
I then told her she could spent the night in my tent,
But I secretly kept a sword by my side,
For you never know,
When the enemy is behind your back,
Being the host,
I then gently asked, ‘Would you care for some wine?
Your injuries are deep,
It might get better with the tincture of Iodine?’
And there I was kneeling and tending to her wounds,
There was as shard that was entwined in her back,
Even as I eased it out gently I knew it did hurt,
But from her side not a sinew did twich,
She continued to sit motionless with her clenched
her jaw,
Without a sound she just gazed into the fire.
On her these wounds of war didn’t seem like
aberrations,
They fit perfectly as a part of a beautiful whole,
With a body so graceful and green eyes so watchful.
With a body so graceful and green eyes so watchful.
In our mirth, we talked and we talked and conversed
through the night,
It was cold, it was freezing,
And not a soul could be heard,
And we drew closer and closer until we were one,
But then as I was drifting into a slumber,
She told me she would depart by first light.
I don’t remember the time,
Except a kiss on my cheek,
She mentioned she was leaving and thanked me for
everything,
And then she waited till I fell back asleep.
In the morning when I awoke,
I wasn’t sure if it was a dream,
But when I looked around; and I found my things gone,
I knew they had been stolen,
By Nadia of the Nile,
Except my camel now sitting,
With a look so benign.
Beside me lay my empty trunk,
Inside was a note pinned to the front,
It read, ‘I am indeed sorry for what I have done,
My story was true,
And I have no doubt that you saved my life,
Unfortunately I was paid not to leave you alive,
Last night when I came I was in too much pain,
And by the morning light I knew I would never be the
same,
I knew I couldn’t kill you,
And I promise you’ll never see me again.’
I wept for my loss but thanked God I was alive,
I knew I was lucky for she didn’t get what she
desired,
The papers, they were tied to the foreleg of my
camel,
And those in my trunk; they were counterfeit,
But this I did realise that she’d probably have to
die,
The fakes that she had obtained, they weren’t worth
a dime,
And those who had paid her would slay her in their anger.
I cried for I knew it was because of me she would
die,
And if I were dead she would still be alive.
Mukund Palat Rao
(August 8, 2011)
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