"The Shadows" was written in 1987 and originally published in Farsi in 1991 in a northern California Persian publication. Perhaps because of its abstract nature back then I liked it a lot and still have a soft spot for it. In the subsequent posts you will find "The Shadows" in both Persian and English. I hope you enjoy it. Share your thoughts!

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‍“The Shadows”

I close my eyes…not sure if I am awake or sleep!

I find myself in the middle of an unknown desert. Not that I have visited so many of them!

There is no vegetation and as far as I can see, for miles and miles, sands, like a beautifully weaved Persian rug, covers the earth with delight and I can’t help but to admire the work of mother nature in this so lonely place.

It is early in the morning.

What time is it?
Does it matter?
When you are in a space with no borders and no other soul to speak with, time has no relevance nor it has any consequence.

In a far distant I see shadows moving slowly as a unit while forming a gray wall. It is difficult to project their direction but they are there, not a mirage and not a figment of my imagination.

Sun is rising and more and more I feel its warmth. There are no clouds visible and like an abstract painting where images would want to jump out of their frame and create motions, the brightest of blues, hugs the sky and wraps itself around me!

If there are no clouds, where do those shadows come from?

Yes, it is hot but why am I shivering?

Drops of sweat begin to roll down my face. They seem to be in a rush to navigate over my forehead, use my eyelids as a bridge to cross over the eyes, inspect the face and reach out to my chin for a deadly fall, however; instead of feeling the heat, I am cold, really cold. I begin to wonder around.

How did I end up in this desert?

Like a puppet whose strings are being pulled into different directions my feet and hands dangle and move out of control in whatever routes suit them well. Walking aimlessly, I close my eyes and decide to run. It doesn’t matter which direction as the earth beneath my feet is flat and sand’s soft surface feels like satin.

This must be a dream, should I wake up or maybe I am awake and this is just a delusion!

I hear noises afar and open my eyes.
Their noises.

The Shadows now look organized and like a disciplined Roman regiment are synchronized and marching toward me. The front of the pack displays a straight arrow sharply pointing at me.

What are they trying to gain or want from me? Does it even matter?

Sun is in her noon position and the desert heat is most vigorous. There is an odd light hot breeze. The puff of air slaps gently and brushes my face as an if a reminder is needed that I am in an unknown or perhaps an alien deserted land.

Despite the heat, my heart is ice cold and almost frozen. I put my hands in my pockets to save them from the heath outside and my inner cold.

The march is on and as the gray wall nears I see many individual shadows with different heights, shapes and sizes gesturing widely and getting closer and closer. They are no longer organized. Some of them are sitting on chariots with no charioteers and others riding on horses with no legs!

I make a decision and turn away from them. The sounds of squeaky wheels and heavy breathing are getting closer. Just for a moment I want to turn back and stare at their unmarked faces but an uncomfortable fear overwhelms me.

What if I knew their identities?

Carried by the wind, their voices are audible yet confused and in apparent commotion.

I continue to run…

Eyes wide open, my feet compete with each other to see which one could get the better of the other and the entire body hustles more intensely. The out of tune sound of wheels of chariots are now moments away from me.

Why I am not tired or exhausted? Perhaps for years and years I have been preparing myself for this marathon, for this moment.
My heart beat slows down.

As far as my memory recalls, I have always been running away from the challenges of life. There is no way to explain such coward habit but when difficulties of life, like these shadows, close up on me, the mode of operand has been to pack up and run away!

Sun is still shining. Surprisingly, rather than blood boiling in my veins, blood cools off and makes me cold.

I stumble as my foot tangles on a rock and fall into the sand. My body is out of control and in pain yet my spirit has no sense of hurt or distress. My spirit and I observe the injury and witness the physical pain as if we are watching a short movie where we have no part in it and are sitting in the audience absorbing the moment.

An idea crosses my mind. I pick up a few rocks so that I could fight the aggressive shadows that are just a few steps away. For some odd reason, indeed totally unrelated to “now”, my best friend’s words of wisdom rushes through my mind:

“It is a strange society. As soon as we meet someone our first curiosity is not about what type of a human being the fellow is? Is he kind and helpful to others? Does he respect his own and other traditions and cultures?...

No, regrettably the first questions are what does he do? How much income? What kind of car is he driving?...”

Why these words and why now rush through my mind?

I am really tired; not physically but mentally. I feel I still could run for hours and hours. Most of us are experts in running away from life’s difficulties and have earned Ivy League degrees in this subject.
My spirit is also tired, mind is spent and with no desire to run-away from anyone, most of all the Shadows.

I slow down to a full stop, to cool off. The Shadows also stop.
They are here and it is time to face them. I feel relieved and have
no complain to meet them. I don’t know who they are and why they have followed me this entire day but I reckon that I must know each and every one of them. I shall soon find out!

I stare down to my wet clothes as the sweat has mixed up with sand and dust.

Enough running away…

It is time to look back and fight the Shadows.

I turn and surf all their faces as they have lined up in front of me. Faces of lost souls, looking frightened and as sacred as I felt moments ago gazing at me.

Are they waiting for my next move?

Those rocks are still in my pockets. Yes, indeed it is time to fight the Shadows. We can’t forever runaway from those shades of darkness that stalk our lives and hunt our minds.
Sun is setting, however; I am no longer cold and my body feels strong and mind is fully alert.

As I look at the horizon, a new cloud of dust is approaching, this time in white color, organized neatly and a new set of noises could be heard. Now what?

Dozens of faces like mine, with strong legs and determined minds, are running toward me, toward us. Are they here to assist me in fighting the Shadows?

The enemy line is cracked and at first individually and then collectively the Shadows run in opposite direction.

Along the way, on foot or knees, they leave their chariots and legless horses as a defeated army would. For the first time in my life the Shadows are running away from me.

Not so fast; we need to catch and fight them!

My new friends and I capture each and every one of the Shadows. We put our hands around their necks and press hard until their shades melt into thin air and disappear with no trace to track.

Once again silence rules the desert. Sun has set and the day’s warmth is replaced with the fresh breeze of night.

***

I walk resolutely and purposefully in the new darkness while enjoying the tranquility of twilight. The sky is lid with moonlight yet there are no shades or shadows marching or staring at me. That fear of unknown, hunting and captivating me for so many years has evaporated and is now gone forever.

The shadows of my life have left the station, have left my station…

My eyes are heavy.
I wonder if I am still sleep or have been awake.

Kaveh Mahjoob
San Francisco, 1987

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