The Dilemma of the Gobi Desert
SHCC, Issac Fung, Fiction: Group 3
I
n the rolling sands of history, where time is still and whispers are heard, there is a legend, a
myth, that the arid land of the Gobi Desert will awake from its slumber and awake to become
a fertile land, where trees will grow and birds will sing. Time will freeze in this earthly
heaven, and the blessings given will be plenty for all. A snatch of this heaven rolls by in the
misty clouds of tomorrow. A flower blooms and blossoms. A tree grows. A pervading aroma of
sweet honey in the river of milk wafts in the morning air. This is the vision of Gobi frozen in the
passage of time.
This heaven, where there is no past and future, only exists in stories and myths. It is absurd
to create such a utopia. If time stops, there will be no memory. A world of an endless today,
where each animal, plant and cloud has a day to prove itself, and no more. This is a heaven
where everyone dies and where everyone is reborn at the same time. This perfect world exists
simultaneously across the plane of time. It is a desert, yes, but at the same time it is a utopia.
Beings choose whether to live in a harsh world with the essence of time, or whether to live in a
perfect world without memory.
In the utopian Gobi, where everything is lush and green, birds fly around, collecting twigs for
nest with their mate, unaware that they have done this hundreds of times in the yesterdays which
are lost. Each squirrel embarks on a crusade for nuts, not knowing that he had already done it
millions and millions of times on the days before today. But the past does note exist. Memory has
stopped. An endless perfect today continues in this heavenly Gobi, a perfect moment frozen in the
glass case of history.
And there is another Gobi. It is a desert: harsh, unyielding, dry and bitter. Little survives in
the wasteland of this rapidly growing desert. The extremity of the weather has claimed many a
life in the past. This is the slumbering giant, the Gobi which has its good dormant inside it, and
its evil raging on the surface. The ones who do survive will suffer. However, time is in motion
here, allowing beings to live in truth, and not false happiness.
Which Gobi is better? An endless perfect today, or a harsh life of the past, the present or the
future? In the perfect utopian Gobi sentient beings are not awake, living with no meaning and
memory. They are happy, but their happiness is not in motion. In the barren Gobi Desert, the
beings live a harsh life, but they remain creatures of dignity, living their lives with purpose.
This is the dilemma of Gobi: To live like the slave but have autonomy of self, or to live as the
master but ignorant of themselves?
In the border of the utopian Gobi Paradise, a camel has made his choice. His decision is made.
He took one last look at the place he had never known, and walked out. Out he went from the
frozen block of time, stepping into the current of time-fluid, fast, and unyielding.
The camel found himself in a barren wasteland. The weather was dry and unyielding. But the
camel knew he had made the right choice. For he now possesses one thing: himself.
Stepping out cautiously, he ventured forward, eager not to become trapped in the frozen
utopia. He made a step, then another. He was overjoyed. The sand may be barren and dry and full
of rocks, but at least he remembered that he was going somewhere. He experienced something that
he never knew he had felt before: happiness.
