Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Till The Camel Reaches the Sea

The scene is not strange to my eyes anymore. The scene kept repeating since years. Still there is that particular strange day that puzzled me. He keeps promising that we will reach the sea. I am still hoping to see the sea, although I realized from the very first day that he took me from the oasis that we are walking in circles. He takes his watch for a compass. Anyway, what can we expect more, from a man, with a big hole in his marine hat through which a boucle of tortuous hair dances to this desert wind funnily. I was just weaned from my mother when he chose me to accompany his journey. He calls me a "ship". I am still waiting to see the sea he promised me so that I can see other kind of "ships" as he said to me once. He told me many things during those passed years. He told me once about somebody named "Freud", and kept talking about an "Iceberg" and an "Unconscious". An "Id". Well, in English they call us, Camels and all other animals, by "It". And I can assure you to a degree that we, Camels at least, have nothing but an "Id", and we have nothing called "memory" cause, all what is in our brain is, memory. Future doesn't worry us much, cause we got no "Great Expectations". In our memory, nothing erased, nothing forgotten, we live as we dream, we dream our life. So the scene that kept repeating every night, that scene that the owl told me later it is called "The Captain's Memory", is not strange to me at all but, but that don't means that I understand it. Repetition doesn't merit understanding.

Why should his memory be so strange? And why that particular night he woke up shouting at the owl with those meaningless words? Well, here is the story to you, and to me too, hoping in the future we can decode those symbols of this vast desert, until we reach sea.

The scene begins every night, when the captain decides that we sleep, to complete our journey the coming day. Just as he take off his pierced naval hat, the anchor that is embroidered in the front of the hat, starts to separate, getting bigger and bigger floating in the air, and "DOOM!", it falls deep into the sand. The captain starts at that particular moment to snore very strangely and funnily. An owl wakes up from his head and fly to a nearby hill. Then an anvil, a hammer, and plenty of nails appear. The nails, one by one, stand on the anvil, the hammer falls on them. Crooked, the unfortunate nails fall on the ground. A tortoise then appears from his head always yawning and complaining from the useless clamor of the "iron tools" as she seems to call the anvil, hammer, and nails. I don't know if she includes the anchor in her term. She never speaks to me. The tortoise always walks slowly to a deep green lettuce head that I always miss finding it before the tortoise head to it. It seems that the lettuce head appears as the tortoise head to it and starts biting it slowly and chewing. I like the calming sound which almost declares the end of the scene. The end of the scene for me, at least, cause I usually fall asleep on that calming sound of the tortoise eating the lettuce head.

But the problem was that particular day when I woke up at the captain's sound yelling at the owl in the middle of the night: "Fly and catch those Rats!! Fly and get me rid of those Rats!!" It was the middle of the night and it wasn't the time for the owl to go back into the captain's head so she started to fly anxiously not knowing which way she must go. I failed to see any rats nearby. The hammer stopped in the middle of its work opening his mouth astonishingly. The tortoise turned her face from the lettuce head and was gazing the captain calmly but still chewing slowly. The captain yelled at them all: "Why you are playing Seek-And-Hide with me? Why?"

To my surprise he fell asleep again. When the morning was about to come, they all, except the crooked nails, went again into his head. He woke up. And we started our journey again. The crooked nails always stay surrounding us in the morning but the captain never cares. It is me, after all, who got to step on them, with the captain above my hump.

The scene repeats itself, without the captain's midnight turmoil and yelling. But I am little more confused that I used to be in my oasis where I was born. I started to have a future to care about, a great expectation to see the sea. I started to think about that "Freud" the captain told me once about. I started to think about what happens when I fall asleep. What can get out from my camel head? Do I have an ID? A Camel's ID? Do my memory plays Seek-And-Hide with me and erase my dreams?

Hoping to find some answers, meanwhile, I'm still hoping that we reach the sea, someday.


TheCunningRunt said...

Sami, thanks for stopping by my photo blog, though I marvel that you ever found it!

Your writing reads like an intriguing incarnation of Garcia's Magical Realism. I hope you intend to expand this bit into something significantly larger, it'd be well worth reading.

saminkie said...

Thanks dear friend for your visit and your kind words. I visit your blog since long thanks to an American friend who likes your blog too. Glad that the net gave us the opportunity to communicate. Thanks again for your encouragement.