Shy waves and radiant smiles, floating dust and mosquito flies, eyes only half shut, yet fully dreaming, precious transient encounters and loving exchanges, I move on the soils once roamed by a million elephants and now home to unshared memories of what previously had been.

Refracted rays off a blade of grass strike my eyes as I head into the wilderness, a man approaches and offers his guidance, a meal is shared but upon presentation of my questions the elder denies me an answer and claims forgetfulness. Silence, not of the sensational kind, ensues me and I am left perplexed by the size of the projected smiles and the thoughts of the possible traumas witnessed. As the timepiece ticks, I learn to admire the skill and will of the people of this land to let the water run off their backs and sweat flow down their brow; for dwelling on the past shakes the chance of being fully immersed in the present and makes the future seem like an unreachable but low hanging fruit.

How did a mortar and sickle come to represent something so fluid? a land with so many contrasts In mannerisms, income and devotions. This land with its picturesque, serene and sometimes overwhelmingly beautiful landscapes has me in a state of comfort, in a state of stability, in a state of not needing to think, in state of reflection, appreciation and love. A land that has seen atrocities, just like its cousins, yet has very little, if anything, to say about it. This land has accepted its past and truly implemented the philosophy of being present, and casually strides onward. It has momentarily taken me with it.

I drift away from this land and look back at her with the desire to hold her closely like I would a child and rub her back softly against her vulnerable spine, let her know that she is appreciated and she is strong, let her know she has been seen and she is loved, let her know she has been heard and she is appreciated… a tender kiss to her temple and a gentle smile to reaffirm all that has been said. I hope to see you again.

“Write the unpleasant events that happen to you on sand and carve the pleasant events that happen to you on stone.” – Arabic proverb