* * *
Sighing, I guided him downwards to where the forest began its stretch, and watched his eyes
widen at the greenery before him. The boy picked up Taana, a wild onion, and drank his fill from
a spring nearby. After drinking, he climbed the Saxaul, poked at the leaves of the Convolvulus,
ran around the shrubs, and stopped at the sight of a little village.
He ran to the nearest hut, and knocked. A woman wearing a dress and a sort of towel around
her head answered the door, and said in Mongolian:
“Why, hello! A shepherd, aren’t you? Where are your sheep...” The boy cut her off tersely with
“I lost my sheep. And why do you think that this is such a nice place, anyway?”
The woman laughed, and answered “Many years ago, I was a girl, tired of being beaten, tired
of my parents, tired of my life, tired of everything. When the Mongolian circus announced that
they would be having a tour around the world, I jumped at the chance of escape. But it was all a
lie, they turned out to be traders of slaves. They lied to me. In the dead of night, I ran away, to
here, where I live now.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.” The boy said flatly.
“I cannot give you any answer, my boy. But look at the place around you- The beauty people
see in the desert are different, as yours will be. The desert will be hurt if you don’t understand
what it thinks, what it brings, and what makes it so special in the first place. “ The woman smiled,
whilst the boy had pure confusion etched on his dark face.
People like me, I thought, I am not actually that much of a loner as I think. This woman was
likable, I guess. There are people on my side, thinking that I am beautiful. If that is what the boy
could think of, if only he knew...
“No, no, no...NO!” The boy screamed in his sleep. This had happened for many nights, it pained
me to see him suffer. Since the talk with the woman, he started to come to terms with his life with
me, but he still longed for his family, and refused to befriend me.
Maybe I should take the first step.
I whispered in his ear, of the animals I tend to, of the springs that rush through my veins,
of the mountains and plants that made up my body, of the sand dunes turning golden under the
bright sun...Yet, he still screamed:
“Have mercy on me, I don’t want to die alone here, I want to see my mother and my father,
and to be away from this terrifying place!”
Shaking my head, I bid the animals to come to him, and commanded them to make the boy
comfortable in his sleep. Their intelligent eyes glittered with an understanding, and they began to
bleat, call, hoot, and produce every sound possible, their voices blending into a harmony, which
the wind joined in.
I watched, awed, as the boy smiled in his sleep.
4 Years later...
“Thank you.” The boy began “Dear the Desert, you might not be able to hear me, but thank you
for making me comfortable, thank you for relieving my nightmares from years ago. Thank you for
everything. Staying here, for so long, I realize that you were not as intimidating as you appeared
