Ponderings on the Gobi Desert
Diocesan Boys’ School Secondary Division, Brian Wong, Fiction: Group 3
I
t was once said that when the darkness of one’s heart thoroughly consumes the pureness of
the human body, a new ruler shall rise upon the land of mighty China. Perhaps it’s true, he
smirked, as he pondered on the plains of the Gobi Desert, awaiting the decisive battle that
would surely come soon.
It was a surprise for a few at the time that he, as bold as he was on the battlefield, came from
such a pitiful background. After his father died of poisoning, his family was deserted by his clan,
living his early life in contemptible poverty. Yet, bravery can only be shown in those who were
unfortunate, climbing up the social ladder served an easy deed for one as heartless as he was,
stepping on the backs of his followers just made the job even easier. In no time at all, he is well
known for his character that puts him above all others––his unfeeling that inspires fear in the
heart of the enemies.
He starts to wonder if the life he led had not been as it was, could he still have triumphed and
ruled? For after all, it was fate that took away hope, forcing this mask of indifference and cold-
heartedness onto him. It was ironic that while fate treated him as unfair as life could be, he could
not have succeeded without bearing the prejudice of destiny. Yet at the same time, how could he
simply agree to the statement that fate governs all, while he himself was the living proof that his
choices in life changes how life turned out! Whether the outcome of life is discerned by fate or
choice, was a question that definitely posed a strong headache for this killer of many.
For one to have been known to be so strong, he considered himself to be weak. Weak in a
sense that he once had emotions, had believed in the trueness of heart. “It was a shame, a pity,”
he would say when asked by his people after conquering China, “that I lacked the determination
to kill my own half-brother earlier. If only I had triumphed over my personal sentiments, I would
have owned this piece ofland years ago!”
One might ask if he had any true friends or companions on his perilous journey to be
adictator. Sure, he had a wife anda few children, but whether he truly cares for them is another
question. Power of the kings past and present come from acknowledgement by the people, he
thought, having a family, then, must serve the purpose of showing off his social status as a ruler!
It was to his utmost belief, that he had given up humanity and friendship long, long ago.
Memories of the past suddenly began to float up to the surface of his mind. There once had
been a man named Jamukha he barely remembered. He was lifted above others by him for reasons
he could not seem to recollect and thus, gained tremendous support in military power. As the
saying goes, with power comes ambition, Jamukha decided to revolt against him but failed in
the end. With this betrayal, he lost another piece of his heart, his innocence flowed further and
further away from the river bank together with his sore memories.
His forehead started to bead with sweat. Maybe it was the harsh sunlight, his thoughts started
to become mingled and distorted…
Naivety kills. I should have learnt this lesson long, long ago.
To be obsessed, to be sincere, is your ultimate death; to be separated from your emotions, leads
to your triumph. When can I ever grasp this simple yet true concept?
For a while, I have believed in the pureness of heart. One is true to what he shows and that
