Adrift (2019)
A collection of writing from my time away in Marrakech, December 2019.
The first day in Marrakech was a peaceful one. Sat at the balcony in this cool, calm breeze at 6:30pm. It is the evening call for prayer. The voices and sounds are beautiful, particularly in this setting. It is one which I have longed for since summer. The sky; a ravishing of reds, oranges and pinks flown together in these clouds. The sunset is an intense flux of orange, with little compliments of blue. Under this gazebo at the top of the balcony we are surrounded by numerous pastel coloured buildings, each accommodating people enjoying the calm evening. This is the sky we must save, one that we can’t ever let go of. The distant voices and sounds of traffic carry the communal voice of prayer. These emotions are exhibited all around us. They will always remain in this breath of wind.
The birds that sing in the early evening also dance to the call of prayer. The light which casts shadows is what warms the heart. The city is so vibrant and busy at the centre, with the markets heaving with buyers and sellers. The sun glows the vibrant colours of fruits to quench our thirst. As you walk in the alley-ways outside the centre, the rustling sounds quietened. The air is cool and the sunsets which take place emit a mixture of various blues, greens and ambers. They are magnificent and irreplaceable. Yet something seems amiss. Are we forever lost by reliance upon the past?
I had a slight rush of anxiety and it was only when I looked up into the night sky with the scattered stars that I emerged myself with relief. The beauty the night holds sends you into a state of insignificance. We are so small and I became in awe with the world we are placed in. It completely diminished the worries and turned them into nothing.
Has there always been this angst built inside? Sometimes it feels like there is constant watch and judgement. The world we live in echoes this. Is it a sin to hope and believe in a certain life that forgives? Or do we leave it to our children who have the chance to be better than us? The only place one can be at peace is the vast desert or the deep sea, with our futile attempt to reach the sky.
What is it about water that attracts the soul? The convergence between land and river, solid beneath liquid. It is compelling. The days of our youth, escaping to the rocky rivers, inheriting the spirit of the landscape. There was a presence of something in-between the two elements. Perhaps we pass away through the river. We speak to the river. It carries our words. Where? Does it matter? Its destination is the heart of another. The journey purifies the spoken. A stream of words in melancholic waves, in hope it leads back to ourselves with something warm.
The young boy, so happy and free with not a care in the world. Roaming the gardens with a view of the mountains. Adoration met with immediate envy at the innocence of a young soul. To be free of angst. The playfulness of a child is the biggest rebellion against a cruel world. One which the adult should aspire to learn.