The Traveler, travels to the farthest distance to experience something new -- to see something out of the ordinary, far beyond any imagination. The Traveler is like a singer who wishes for stardom and sings a new song. And after it is sung, the singer feels lonely. It is an everlasting and inherent loneliness, the cure for which is to write and sing a newer song.
The Traveler travels the farthest distance, crossing the seven seas, not knowing that at each crossing, he alters something in the depth of his soul.
Thus, the Traveler started his travel. He became sick of the ordinary. He became bored with unproductive sounds. He became infuriated with frigid songs and started to look for newer songs. He began to look for a new garden, an outlet to free his thoughts and to confide in it of his deepest secrets. He traveled far away as if he wanted to forget his past, and to start a new beginning. Although, The Traveler wanted to forget his past, he was not ashamed of it; he made it a torch to light the darkness of his future.
However, the Traveler changed. His soul changed. He became more aware of the silence and the sorrow that accompanied him since his birth, and he started to think about the oppression he lived under. Back then he did not think of such things. Back then life was harsh and mechanical. No time to reflect. However, that the Traveler transplanted himself in a new land, now he has more time to reflect and think.
The Traveler sits under a Palm tree and finds shelter under its shade from the heat of the summer’s sun. He sips a glass of lemonade as the sweat trickles down his forehead and cheeks when a white bearded man appears to him. The Traveler both stunned and elated, for the figure looked comforting and reassuring. The young man spells what is kept inside of him and tears come out of his eyes. The wise man looks at the Traveler with Kindness and asks him: “What ails you son?” The Traveler, shivers, and squints his eyes as tears about to come out of them and with a coarse chocking voice he replies:
“There is a transparent, paper-like wall I want to penetrate but I cannot go through or conquer. I struck it numerous times, and it felt as solid as steel. I gather my strength, I run, I jump and strike it with my shoulders with all might, but I cannot tear it. I cannot penetrate the wall.
I gather my strength.
I jump.
I strike.
Then, I feel numb.
I touch the wall, it feels like steel.
I look in the mirror.
I look at my face.
And I see
bewilderment and sorrow
Then I hear an echo directed at me,
"Frightened and a coward.
Frightened and a coward.
Frightened and a coward."
My body trembles,
And I hear deep silence.
I look at all directions
And whisperingly, I thank the Creator
That I am alone.
The echo repeats,
"Frightened and a coward,
Frightened and a coward,
Frightened and coward."
I become bitter.
I become enraged.
I go ablaze,
And feel a flood of broken emotions.
Suddenly, I acquire audacity
Like never before,
And I shout as loud as I can.
"I am not afraid.
I am not a coward."
The echo replies and says:
"Indeed you're afraid and a coward."
The wise man leans forward and looks The Traveler straight in the eyes, and softly says: “Conscience makes cowards of us all”. The Traveler looked at all directions, looked at his own reflection in the nearby pond, then looked at the wise man and shouted:
"Where is conscience?
Where is the conscience?”
And as tears fell off his cheeks he kept on going and said:
“I'm sick of this life.
I'm sick of this fear.
I'm sick of these chains.
I'm sick of these shackles.
I'm sick of everything.
I feel that I am a captive.
I like to be free.
I like to be free.
I like to be free.
Voices chase me
They echo in my head
And they hound me
. "Who am I and what the essence of existence, and what I want from my life."
The Traveler looks at the wise man and with a remorseful and weak voice and begins to say:
I ride a boat driven by a merciless wind.
I ride a boat driven by the storm.
I ride a boat that follows the current.
I am sick of the storm.
I'm sick of the current.
I'm sick of the wind.
I like to sail against the current.
I like to face the storm and the squall.
I like to race the wind and the rain.
I wish I knew the essence of my soul.
I am still a stranger in a strange land”
The Wise man asks The Traveler: “Then what is the solution, son?”
Al-Gharib answers:
“I wish I were a monastic monk.
I want nothing.
Not a treasure.
Not a palace.”
The Traveler suddenly halts and slows down, he whispers:
“Oh…. I live …a...fallacy. . . “
Then, The Traveler looks like he suddenly acquired a high level of insight and enthusiasm. A glimpse of hope comes through his dark and stern face. His eyes relax, he wears a smile and he looks at the wise man and says:
“Today, I proclaim I am opposing all the rules
I will sail alone,
Opposing all currents,
Opposing the wind and;
Facing the storms.
I will sail against the wind and the storms”.
I will sail against the wind and the storms”.
